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Thursday, October 10, 2013


It was after lunch time, the mood in the office building of Maroka Financial Services was a laid back one. The air conditioner whirred slowly as some of the employees chatted in low voices over their cubicles, some finishing up on their lunches, some were trying to get some work done, get themselves in the mood for work and avoid being caught up in the lethargic feeling that usually enveloped one after lunch time. One man who seemed to have failed at this was Masedi, he was sitting slumped on his chair, his feet placed lazily on his cubicle desk which was littered with office stationery and official looking documents. He was a man in his mid-thirties, unusually tall and had a bulging stomach that was a result of his binge drinking and eating, his eyes were small and calculating.
‘Mas!’ a sweet voice said penetrating his thoughts rudely. He slowly opened his eyes and saw Maria, his boss’s beautiful secretary standing over him. He smiled shyly getting into an upright position; she always made him feel like a goofy teenager, like he was back in high school all over again.
‘Yes Maria, how can I help you?’ he asked staring into her beautiful bulging brown eyes. He always got lost in them, that was if he was not staring at her bountiful bosom or her pear shaped bottom, he had masturbated to the thought of her countless times, he had even thought of her when making love to his wife. He usually felt guilty afterwards but would do it all over again after seeing her at work, it is not like he was cheating, he thought guiltily.
‘Mr Maroka wants to see you in his office.’ She said softly a thin smile on her face; her brown skin seemed to be glowing.
‘Ok, tell him I will be with him shortly’ he said his smile revealing his stained teeth. He stared transfixed as she walked in between the cubicles back to her station; he sighed heavily and followed her. 
As he approached Maria nodded to tell him it was alright to go in. He knocked once, opened the door and walked in. Marvin Maroka’s office was large, a white Persian rug dominated the majority of the tiled floor, the walls were painted in a dull grey colour, a book shelve full of books with various topics occupied one wall, a revolving leather chair was placed behind a huge mahogany desk that was littered with official looking papers and envelopes. Maroka was sitting his chair turned towards the window. The view of the central business district and the greater part of Gaborone from the fifth floor where they were now was magnificent. Masedi stood routed to the spot, he never could get used to the view from Maroka’s office.
‘Do sit down Masedi, we don’t have all day.’ Said Maroka curtly without bothering to turn and look at his visitor. Masedi pulled a chair and sat down, he then waited. Maroka and Masedi sat in silence for a few more minutes. He turned his chair to face Masedi, he was a short pot-bellied man, his receding hairline and grey hair told his age, a few wrinkles could be spotted from his determined face. His skin was two shades away from being classified as blue-black. His violently white teeth gave him a creepy expression, especially when he attempted to smile.
‘What is it that you do here Masedi?’ he asked, breaking the awkward silence. Masedi looked at him surprised, with good reason; he had been working for Maroka for over half a decade now, he clearly cannot claim he does not know what he did.
‘Well sir I am an assistant to Mr Mavenda who is a corporate services advisor. We are the team that are in-charge of offering business advice to our clients, we come up with models to turn around companies in the dark and we make models to sustain a good financial run.’
‘How do you think that’s going?’
‘We are currently experiencing problems holding onto clients, mainly because business consider our services an expandable expense, everyone is worried about spending money unnecessarily and when they come up with strategies to slim down and survive in the current climate consultants like us are the first to go.’
‘You are a very intelligent man Masedi, I will give you that.’ Said Maroka standing up from his chair and standing by the window, watching out as ordinary people went about their business outside ‘When companies start thinking they do not need consultants I end up with employees who have nothing to do, I begin to realise just how much I am spending unnecessarily too. Do you get me?’
‘I am being let go?’ he asked surprised.
‘Yes son I have to, a lot of your colleagues will be without a job tomorrow too, the HR department is finalising the details as we speak. I decided to do this myself because I value your commitment to my firm; I know the kind of employee you are.’ He said pushing a brown envelope to Masedi ‘I personally wrote you a letter of recommendation, the envelope also includes a cheque with five month salary as your severance.’
Masedi just sat and said nothing, for he did not know what to think or say. Anger just ran through his blood.
‘You are a talented man; you will have no problem finding a job once the economy has calmed down.’
He stood up without saying a word and left, envelope in his hand. As he stepped out of the office Maria smiled at him and said something he could not hear, or maybe he did but was choosing to ignore. He walked through the familiar cubicles like some sort of zombie, oblivious to his surroundings. He packed his belongings into a box and walked out amid a few curious stares, he held back tears.

The drive home was surreal; he did not believe he was the one who drove the car home. As he approached the parking lot of the apartment building he saw his fiancĂ©’s black Kia Cerato parked. He smiled cheerfully; he knew she was the only person that would make everything better at such a time. He parked his metallic silver 2012 Volkswagen GTI next to the Cerato, walked around it whilst rubbing his hands over it, without a job he could not afford the payments, it would have to go, he kissed it lovingly and walked into the apartment building, leaving the box in the car, rushing to go share the news with Katlego. The elevator was out of order once again, he smiled weakly, as if his day could not get any worse, he thought. He sighed painfully and began the climb to the third and final floor, it seemed like an eternity but he made it. The door was unlocked and ajar, music blared from the radio, he walked in and closed the door behind him, and the living room area was deserted.
‘Baby, why are you not at work? You won’t believe the day I had…’ he said over the music.
‘Baby!?’ he said walking into the hallway towards the bedroom, a shirt was lying on the floor, he picked it up, it smelled like cheap perfume, it was not his. He left it there and proceeded cautiously, he dared not believe what his mind was telling him, a blouse on the floor, it was hers, shoes, hers and a man’s also lay on the floor. The door to the bedroom was slightly ajar, he stood there and watched, horrified by what he was seeing. Katlego was butt naked and on all fours, a huge dark coloured man rammed her from behind, she was moaning and writhing, the smell of faeces wafted through the air.
‘I thought you said anal disgusts you’ he said as he opened the door, she screamed, a scream between enjoyment and shock, the huge dark coloured man also pulled out and let out an awkward yell.
‘Baby I can…’ Katlego blurted as she crawled on the floor looking for something to wear.
‘Who are you?’ the dark coloured man asked in a funny accent after gaining some composure, his penis still standing to attention.
WHO AM I?’ Masedi bellowed ‘WHO AM I!?’ he walked towards him and punched him in the face, his fist hurt, the man stumbled but regained his balance and threw a punch too, Masedi dodged it and kicked the dark coloured man in his exposed penis, Katlego shrieked as he continued to kick the naked man after he fell to the ground ‘IN MY OWN BED! IN MY OWN BED KATLEGO!?’ the naked men rolled blood all over his face. Katlego pulled him from behind; he struggled with her for a few seconds before throwing her on the bed and slapping her. He turned around and found the naked man on his feet a lamp on his hand, he threw it at Masedi and it caught him on the face, he lost his balance, the naked man kicked him whilst he was down. As the naked man executed a kick he grabbed his leg and pulled him to the ground, he took the damaged bed lamp and hit him in the face. The naked man let out a scream of pain and fell by the door. As he stood up to attack him some more the naked man made a run for it, he followed him into the living room area and watched him stumble out of the door. When he went to the door he saw the naked man tumble down the stairs and run out onto the parking lot. He went back inside ignoring the stares of the neighbours who had stepped out of their homes to witness the spectacle; he slammed the door and went to the bedroom. Katlego was still on the bed covered in a sheet and wailing loudly.
‘Mas I am sorry!’ she said in between massive sobs.
‘In my own bed Katlego?’ he asked fuming ‘how could you?’
‘Im so sorry.’
‘Sorry you got caught?’
‘What is it? Was I a horrible boyfriend to you?’ he asked over her sobs ‘ANSWER ME!?’ he shouted and pulled her from the bed and threw her against the wall, she fell to the ground crying painfully. He looked at her pitifully ‘When I come back I should find you gone, pack your stuff and leave, I do not want to see you again, leave the keys to the car I bought for you. You WHORE!’ he spit on the floor and walked out angrily.
He drove around the city until it was dark, he just drove, the rage in him failing to subside. When he was tired of driving around he drove to a bar on the outskirts of the city, he walked in and ordered a whiskey double, gulped it and ordered another. The alcohol ran through him, making him feel even worse, he drank, and drank and drank. A soft tap on his shoulder an hour later shoved him from his dark thoughts. He turned around.
‘I do not want any trouble I just want to drink my liquor in…’ He said before falling dead silent. Maria was standing there, dressed in a tight tank top and tight denim pants.
‘Hi Mas! What are you doing in these parts?’ she said sitting next to him.
‘Drowning my sorrows.’ He said.
‘Oh! I am sorry I heard what happened. Are you ok?’
‘I will be fine, its not like we were married?’ he said gulping what was remaining of his whiskey and motioning the bartender to bring him another.
‘What!?’ said Maria confused ‘I was talking about you getting let go.’
‘Oh, that, no I am over that now.’
‘So are you and Katlego having trouble?’ she asked a concerned look on her face.
‘If by trouble you mean a big black man tearing her anus apart the yes, yes we are having trouble.’ He wiped tears from his eyes with his sleeve ‘Can I buy you a drink?’ he added as an after-thought.
‘ok I guess.’ She said ‘I am sorry’ she added putting an understanding arm around him.
‘And to think she always said anal was disgusting, making me feel like a pervert for wanting it, turns out she just wanted it from her big black man.’
Maria shrugged, not knowing what to say. She gulped her drink silently for a minute or so before saying ‘If she cheats on you it means she does not deserve you Mas, you are one of the nicest guys I know.’ He felt a little embarrassed, he did not know why.
‘I gave her everything, went out of my way to please her and her overbearing family and this is how she repays me? I proposed to her, does that not mean anything anymore Maria?’
‘It means a lot, she just did not get it, and she never deserved you if she failed to get what it meant to you.’ 
‘I mean I never cheated, not even once. Granted I have fantasised about you when I made love to her but I never slept with you did I?’ he said without realising what he was admitting to. Maria opened her mouth to answer but fell silent, a rush of excitement had ran through her whole body at the thought of Masedi thinking about her in a sexual way, he had always acted aloof in the office, almost awkward, she had known he had a serious girlfriend so she had accepted him and her would never happen.
‘I mean I should be given a medal for being faithful.’ He said staring into her eyes ‘Your eyes are beautiful, I have always wanted to tell you that. I think now that I am single I can tell you that without feeling guilty.’
Maria blushed unnecessarily.
‘Last call, we are closing.’ The bartender said.
‘Where are your car keys? You cant drive, lets call you a cab.’ Maria suggested.
‘I am fine, I can drive’ he said standing up only to collapse to the floor. Maria tried rousing him, he had passed out. With the help of the bartender she carried him to his car, put him on the passenger seat and strapped him with a seat belt. She then drove to her home. She dragged him into the bedroom and stripped him to his boxer briefs and helped him onto the bed, she undressed, left only her underwear on and got into the bed with him, she spooned him, his body was warm, his heart beat slow, she smiled to herself when she remembered the number of times she had fantasised about this happening, she was going to take good care of him, she thought, she was going to love him more than anyone ever had done, she loved him, she had loved him for months now. He mumbled something and drifted back to sleep, she listened to his heartbeat until she too fell asleep.   

Sunday, September 15, 2013


From previous posts readers of my blog would know this is a topic that excites me a lot. I have previously written about blood-sucking teens and lunatics who eat people’s intestines.
The story today is shocking and gruesome, almost funny if it was not so mind boggling. Maun Senior Secondary School, which has had its fair share of troubles over the years has come into the headlines again! Bad timing for the Ministry of Educations and Skills Development just after having to contain situations in other secondary schools, Moeding and Ledumang. 

Students got the shock of their lives when they came to class on said day, parts of a dead dog were left in classrooms, on the teacher’s desk,  messages written in what is believed to be the dead dog’s blood in two classrooms. The message apparently said they were going to kill five girls from Maun Senior Secondary School they proceeded to say they are going to ‘lick her (teacher’s) pussy’ (I know right!?) and cut off her head. The police believe the dog was slaughtered on the scene. Understandably ten students from that class absconded from class the following day. 
Pic courtesy of The Voice FB page 
Then after all this caused a scare the culprit struck again pinning a dead snake on a notice board with a note which warned about not being taken seriously, saying more was to come and apparently concluded this warning with the words ‘Fuck God’.

According to GabzFm the Ministry of Education Skills and Development believe this to be the acts of students keen on disrupting the preparations of the final examinations just like last year when eight classrooms were set on fire.

As expected Satanists have been blamed for this act by the majority of the population, I find this hard to believe, I do not want to believe it. Needless to say you have to give it to these motherfuckers for originality and an overactive imagination. I can only imagine having to tackle down a dog, and killing it, I mean SERIOUSLY!!?? Who thought up this idea? Satanists do not kill people, for nothing atleast, they are obsessed more with control and possession. Threatening to kill five girls is just something Ted Bundy would have done, so these guys should have claimed to be serial killers, we would have believed them. They lost the plot at ‘licking’ the teacher’s vagina, this just goes to prove they are a bunch of under-sexed adolescents, again why would someone intent on forwarding Lucifer’s mandate be hung up on cunnilingus? Realize that the culprit brought god into all of this as soon as people started talking about Satanism. His statement talking about ‘fuck god’ was a ploy to spread fear. In all of this I do not think they realize just how serious a threat to kill a person is, the ramifications if they get caught. The theory that they might be former students might also be true, it’s a real possibility. I am just overly disappointed in a Ministry of Education official who upon briefing the media blatantly said this might be ‘satanism’. How does he expect the students to behave upon coming upon such information? It will surely spread mass hysteria he should have known better.

 One thing is clear though; there are some pretty disturbed souls out there. Truly disturbed!    

Thursday, September 12, 2013


The suburban neighborhood of Balestown looked lifeless under the glare of about a hundred street lights scattered strategically next to every homestead. Lopang walked briskly towards the high-walled concrete structure that was the fence of Letlhabile Manor. After days of surveillance he knew he had to be at the west side corner when the security camera placed on said wall was facing the other direction. As the security cameras changed position every thirty minutes they created a blind spot that lasted for a mere twenty seconds. He put on his balaclava and jumped over the concrete wall into the back yard. He ran silently towards the swimming pool area, which he knew had no cameras. He stood by the pool for a few seconds regaining his breath. He walked catlike towards the garage door which he knew was not connected to the home security alarm system. He jerked it upwards and slipped in effortlessly. James Letlhabile’s beloved all black Range Rover was parked inside, next to his wife’s bright red Mercedes Benz CLK class drop top convertible. He took a quick glance at his wrist watch, 0200hrs, he was making good time. He walked stealthily towards the door leading into the kitchen. He punched in the security system pass-code and just like that the system was disarmed. This was certainly his easiest job to date, he thought as he walked through the kitchen to the door that led into a spacious and properly furnished living area. To his immediate right was a set of stairs he mounted carefully towards the main bedroom. He stood in a dark hallway that led to his desired destination. He passed two bedrooms on the way to the main one. The main-bedroom had its own security system, he knew this also. He punched in the pass-code like he did the first time, the system disarmed and he walked in. The bedroom was huge; in the middle was an equally breathtaking bed. The bed was covered in all purple bedding, matching the drapes. A shiny chandelier hung loosely on the Sistine Chapel inspired roof. An expensive looking white rug covered the majority of the bedroom. Directly ahead he saw what he was looking for, a family portrait hung firmly on the wall opposite the door. Mr. and Mrs. Letlhabile seated and smiling awkwardly, their three children standing behind them, properly groomed and smiling care freely. He took the painting down and smiled smugly as a safe appeared. He did not know the combination to the safe but since it was not electronic he could open it. He put his back-pack down and removed a small battery operated drill. He continued to drill four precise holes around the locking mechanism. The locking mechanism was weakened; he pulled a small hammer from his back-pack and hit the lock with precise and calculated force and with a small click the safe opened. Piles of official looking documents were stacked at the bottom of the safe. He looked for what he came for and saw it, a brown envelope neatly tucked behind bundles of hundred pula bills. He took the money also and shoved it together with the envelope into his bag. He closed the safe and retraced his steps. He opened the bedroom door and walked into the hallway. He stopped dead on his tracks, his heart pounding, sweat dripping from his face making his balaclava wet, a man was standing on the other side of the hallway, and he looked equally shocked to see him too. They stood for a few seconds staring at each other, no one prepared to make the first move. Various pieces of information ran inside Lopang’s head then, questions he could not answer. His employer said there would be no one in the house. The security guard was stationed at the gate of the manor but it was metres away. That’s why he had decided to come unarmed; this was a simple retrieval job. Who was this man? What was he doing here? The stranger was dressed in blue denim, a green sweater and white tennis shoes, pretty odd choice of gear for a thief, surely he knew the owners of the house and obviously the stranger knew Lopang was a thief, the balaclava gave him away.

‘Who are you? What are you doing here?’ the stranger croaked.

Lopang remained silent, calculating, trying to find an escape route.

‘Spike! Spike! Whats taking you so long? lets go.’ another voice came from below.
The stranger looked exasperated, his partner had given his name away, and their advantage was diminished.

‘Spike! Spike!’
A few more seconds later a set of footsteps sounded on the stairs as the second stranger walked up.
‘Whats taking so…’ he paused in mid-sentence as his eyes rested on Lopang, dressed in all black and clad in a balaclava, light from the bedroom making him even more mysterious as he stood resolute and firm in-front of the door. Lopang realized the new stranger, shorter that his counterpart, dressed in a floral shirt and Levi’s black denim, was holding a pistol. Spike as he was called was also armed Lopang realized, a gun was carelessly strapped to his belt. A few more seconds of silence followed before the short one realized something that changed the dimension of the already awkward stand-off.

‘Look, behind him, a safe. He has already opened it.’

‘Give us the money from the safe and we will let you go’ the one called Spike said, putting his hand on his gun, caressing it, looking to intimidate Lopang. Clearly he was the leader of this motley crew, thought Lopang who chuckled lazily. The money meant nothing to him, he could give it to them, his job was the envelope, but he knew small time criminals, he used to be one, they knew he had seen their faces, knew one name, they knew a lot of money was at play too, there was no way he was walking out of this house alive now.

‘How do I know you will not kill me right here, Spike?’ Lopang asked daringly saying his name with emphasis to show him he knew something about him now.

‘You will just have to trust us.’ The one called Spike said brazenly.

‘Oh really!?’ replied Lopang lazily. ‘Forgive me for not trusting the word of a house burglar.’

‘Enough of this Spike! I say we kill him and take the money.’ The short one blurted angrily raising his gun slowly. A heavy click sound alerted Lopang that the weapon was ready to go to work. He took three brief steps backwards and shut the door just as quick. He was trapped. He knew he had only one way out, they had only one way in. He strapped his backpack carefully to his back and walked towards the closet, surely a man like James Letlhabile owned a weapon of some sort. He ransacked the piles of boxes placed on the foot of the closet but found nothing of use. As luck would have it just on the upper case front he saw a hunting knife placed safely next to a beautiful hunting rifle, .375 Ruger. He took the hunting knife and placed it inside his pocket and paused to listen, silence. What were they doing? Had they left? He took the rifle and observed it, a case on the closet shelf had only one bullet left in it, and he silently cursed. He loaded the rifle, switched off the light and assumed a crouching position behind the bed, he waited. He could hear them talking softly on the other side but could not make out what they were saying. They knew he was unarmed, and was trapped, so they would come in blindly, he thought. He had the advantage surely. These were not strategic criminals, he thought, who robs a house with so much security without covering any of their recognizable features? These are small timers, lucky he had disabled the security system before they came in, or else his mission would have been ruined. He put his finger to the trigger and waited, the rifle aimed towards the door.  

A few minutes later the door to the bedroom swung violently open. He pulled the trigger and felt the power of the rifle reverberate through his chest. A heavy thud on the floor followed the loud deafening crack of the rifle, footsteps followed immediately retreating. Lopang took this opportunity and moved as fast as he could towards the door. The one called Spike lay on the floor; he had caught him squarely on the shoulder. He writhed on the floor his gun a few metres from him. As Lopang approached him he rolled over towards the gun, took it with his working hand and before he could fire Lopang had planted the hunting knife on his neck with fatal precision. He struggled for a few seconds as Lopang held onto the blade firmly, he stared into his eyes as the lost their spark. When he was certain he was dead he removed the knife and wiped it on the dead man’s pants and placed it back into his pocket. He took the man called Spike’s gun and smiled, it was his favourite; a 9mm, Baretta M9. It was heavy, and even on his gloved hand it was warm, Spike had fired a few shots. He wondered briefly if the security guard had heard the gunshots. If he was sleeping he might have missed them. Even if he did he would probably wait for back-up before attempting to approach the house. The hallway was deserted; the short one was nowhere to be seen. He walked carefully onto the hallway, silent as a cat. A shot rang from the stairs, quickly followed by another, they both missed. He crawled back into the bedroom and took cover behind the damaged door.

‘YOU ARE NOT WALKING OUT OF HERE ALIVE!!’ the short stranger shouted.

‘I was not counting on it.’ Lopang said, more to himself than to the short gunman.


Lopang rummaged through his backpack and found it, a flash light. He took it on his left hand, gun on his right, and walked onto the dark hallway once again. He walked as quietly as he could for a few metres, then like before shots rang; he bent a bit to dodge the oncoming bullets and switched on the flash light. The light did as expected it blinded the opponent and he shot blindly, Lopang aimed the gun carefully and fired, he hit him on the chest, twice. The short man’s gun fell on the stairs as he tumbled down violently. Lopang walked down the stairs quickly, he knew he had to leave the house as soon as possible, a quick glance at his wrist, 0355hrs, he was way behind schedule. He took the short man’s gun then walked past the living room area and into the kitchen. He walked into the garage and went past the swimming pool and over the wall. He walked towards the street and saw it, a lonely looking car parked a few meters away from Letlhabile Manor, the getaway car of the two retards. He walked towards it and realized thankfully that someone was sleeping in it, their getaway driver probably. He walked to the side of the car and pulled at the handle, it was unlocked.
‘About time too, what took you so lo….’ The driver said before being silenced by a heavy punch that knocked him out. Lopang muzzled the short man’s gun and used it to shoot the driver in the stomach multiple times. He then placed the two guns and hunting knife neatly on the lap of the dead driver. He opened his back-pack and scattered some of the money he got from the safe on the passenger seat and walked away into the still morning air, removing the balaclava in the process. Another job completed, albeit messily.   


Tuesday, August 6, 2013


As you read this from your office desk, your tablet or your phone you have probably heard the news, celebrated or cried, we do not know; comrade Mugabe has against all odds clinched victory in Zimbabwe’s latest elections, a landslide win that left poor ‘Changirai’ winded and throwing around words like ‘null’ and ‘void’ blah blah blah. After 33 years of ruling Zimbabwe and literally turning it into a barren patch of land Mugabe is still ridiculously popular. Congratulations are in order to the almost 90 year old phantom! Whoever said a man that old is not fit to rule simply has never met Gabriel Mugabe, senile? Nah! That old chap is as fit as a fiddle, sharper than most. I could go on and on about him but the truth is ‘a win is a win’, whether you cheated or not. That brings me to the bone I want to pick for today, Robert Mugabe’s arch nemesis Morgan Tsvangirai, who for the third time against the same man has come out the loser. Really!? 3 times?

The world was pretty sure this time Morgan Tsvangirai would win, I mean why would Zimbabweans vote for Mugabe? Why? No one stopped to wonder what would happen if he lost. Before the elections he was pretty sure he would win, he said so, a few hours into the counting he came out to call the elections a sham. A farce he said. A joke he implied. Little does he know he is the joke…Morgan Tsvangirai’s biggest mistake was taking the bribe that was a unity government, letting Mugabe blindside him, making him fall asleep in chauffeured luxury vehicles whilst he diligently planned his next stint in the state house. Morgan Tsvangirai became so comfortable in a position designed mainly to keep Mugabe as president he forgot he was supposed to be pushing him out.
The big fat joke that is Morgan Tsvangirai then did the biggest mistake of actually thinking he would win an election in Zimbabwe, that Robert Mugabe would lose and just stroll into the sunset hand in hand with Grace looking forward to retirement, what a chump! Mobutu Sese Seko is popularly known to have remarked surprised after one African president had lost an election ‘How can you lose an election? That's stupid!’ basically asking why anyone in their right minds would lose an election they organised? something Mugabe has grasped admirably especially since Tsvangirai nearly stole his beloved Zimbabwe from him in 2008. The other reason Morgan Tsvangirai is a joke has to be letting Mugabe stand for another election. I mean really!? The man has 33 years of ruling under his belt; he has no business standing for another election. He had his fair share of the pie, Morgan Tsvangirai should have took those Unity Government documents and pissed all over them right there and then. He had momentum after the 2008 elections, everyone knew he had won, he should have never agreed to be bribed, granted people died after those elections and Morgan Tsvangirai had to flee in the middle of the night to South Africa but he had the upper hand, Mugabe knew it, the world knew it only Tsvangirai seemed oblivious to this. Zimbabwe needs change, a new president, as long as Mugabe is standing as a candidate in these elections no one but him would win, it’s a given.

Morgan Tsvangirai is a joke for thinking SADC and AU would come to his help. SADC screamed even before the elections started how they were ‘Free and Fair’. SADC is a joke, just like Morgan, all they do is hold meetings and admire each other’s grotesque bellies made so by the innocent people they rob of freedoms each year. The joke that was Jacob Zuma out there congratulating Mugabe, smh. Atleast Merafhe had the decency to come out and call the elections a 'circus'. The AU watches as Africa implodes and smiles like its supposed to happen, they would rather back the power hungry dictators of this continent, they have always done so, we cannot trust them to solve shit. Tsvangirai is a joke for hoping these utterly useless organisations can come to his aid in handing him Zimbabwe.

Tsvangirai is a joke for letting Mugabe put him in a corner. A joke for asking the people of Zimbabwe to now ‘do what is necessary’ is he asking people to go into the streets in a Jasmine Revolution like campaign? Is he expecting people to lay their lives on the line for him and his incompetent MDC? As far as evidence suggests Morgan Tsvangirai’s road has just ended, he needs to hand the baton to someone who would take Zimbabwe to where it needs to be. We are done pitying ‘Changirai’. He does not deserve our sympathies, he has himself to blame for everything. How can he be so unprepared? So outfoxed? So frustrating.         

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

You Win Van Persie. You win!!!

I woke up today to my daily routine, brush my teeth, have some heavy breakfast and watch the news. To my shock the headlines ruined my morning, severely so even. Manchester United had demolished Aston Villa to claim their 20th league title, disgusted, i learnt Robin Van Persie had scored a first half hat-trick to give Manchester the title. To understand my reaction you need to have read this , my disgust at Van Persie joining the red half of Manchester from my beloved Arsenal. 

Disgusted and as hurt as i was i could not help but admit it, Van Persie won, in every way you can think. Not only did he join a club that gave him his first domestic title, he will finish the season as top goal-scorer and eventually will be voted the PFA player of the year given these heroics come at a time when voting has just commenced and Luis Suarez decided to tank his prospects in a moment of utter madness. Van Persie scored three goals and handed Ferguson a trophy. The sad and embarrassing thing is that since Manchester United claimed the title in the Villa game they would be given a guard of honor at the stadium they play at next, which will be as luck would have it The Emirates. What a way to stick it to the fans! To the team he described as 'unambitious'. 
The fans at the Emirates should not even bother booing Van Persie. He has won. We lost. Its as simple as that. We might feel betrayed by what he did but we cannot sit here and pretend he did not just achieve what he said he wanted. 
You win Van Persie. You Win. :'''(