It was a random attempt to play puppeteer with an inferior mind incapable of grasping the simplistic lingo my piece was engraved in. like the predictable robot he has turned himself into, I watched as he created a rant of fiction on my “supposed sexuality”. Unfortunately, I chose the profession of an engineer and the passion of a writer, else my psycho-analytical skills would have sent him to a mental rehabilitation center to recover from his many traumatic experiences as a child (and maybe even as an adult). I will however not waste another Friday on “his royal nyurradiness). My lines are better spent working on progress rather than the retrogressive spirit of an obviously disturbed man who needs more prayers and less lecturing. I will however add that any time I can spare five minutes and notice his immature attacks in all their gloating glory, I will be back.
On to more pertinent issues, my question goes to this week’s lucky winner! NAWEC, wai yen! Naka la fa hortehkoor nii?? Maneh NAWEC, naka la fa tehpehkoor nii?
Many people have lamented that an attack on NAWEC is simply an attack on futility. I have been on NAWEC’s case since I can remember and they have been playing this game of musical chairs and Christmas lights ever since. The people aren’t angry with our Energy Champions. We are simply confused and in need of some urgent explanation. How NAWEC has changed from the Champions I came home to in 2008 to the uncontrollable mess we now have around us is a mystery waiting to be solved. I strongly believe another black cat has walked into Generator number 6…or maybe we should expel the number 6 from the power plant completely. Number 6 bi jigut nju! 6 is definitely the devils number! I need a reminder on the number of weeks that were announced for “scheduled maintenance”. Was it four, or six, or twelve or? Wai yen wakh si sehn mbirr jot na nak. Over the last two months we have had to almost literally beg for power. The street lights go off whilst you’re driving on the highway, traffic lights do not blink, food in the refrigerator goes bad, appliances get blown to bits, candle-light dinners are the only option and the worst bit, the heat is here!!
Tangorr bi ku chi deeh sis en borpa lai kopu! Man maa kor wakh! Ningena sohorr! Wai yen yena anjaan! It’s mosquito season in a few weeks, poto-poto season soon to follow and we have to deal with your inefficiency? At least let us know what’s going on. I am sure it will be much appreciated. I am sick and tired of the extreme power cuts. In fact, this article is penned in frustration as I watch the battery power of my borrowed laptop change to 6%. Your plans to delay this publication will fail! The devil is a liar!
Fajara madness
If you live around the Fajara vicinity, you will notice that NAWEC is not the only entity that has lost its mind. The youth have lost theirs too! All you need to do is take a walk down Kairaba Avenue, past Sabena Junction towards the newly opened Chop Shop fast food joint (yes cheap publicity I know) to see the line of mentally disturbed people chatting with the shadows. What has become of our young people? Is it drugs? Is it genetic? Is it doff-dofflu beh doff? You know a specific society has totally lost it when the sane people know all the crazy people by name. These are people we went to school with; shared books with; shared our dreams and ambitions with. What happened to them?
I guess the myth that madness was just for the poor and needy has finally been confirmed as nothing but a myth. Now there’s a new disease we’re all sharing. From the dirty and ragged mad to the nicely clothed and well-spoken mad, our streets are filled with them.
The madness is not restricted to the “Hoja Doffs” of our generation but to well-educated young men dressed in three-piece suits, “bagging degrees in duffel bags and cash in treasury carts”. I cannot be blamed for sporting a wandering ear that can’t help but overhear the most ridiculous of conversations. In fact I have been willing to encourage such conversations as they mostly tickle my brain cells.
I was privy to a conversation (to which I was not invited but was audible enough to entertain) where a suited gentleman almost claimed to “own the world”. I am not one to kiss and tell so I will restrain from giving personal details. However, as the conversation ensued and “suit-guy” continued to gloat about his millions of dollars in some bank and how easy it was for him to reach out to the greatest people of our time, he was interrupted by a Senegalese gentleman who had most certainly gotten sick of his bigotry. Apparently suit-man was one of the many men “proving champion” in this small nation of ours. Di wakh wakhi doff melni deka bi ken werrut. Wai tamit nju fi werr barri wunj deh.
So we have men “proving champion” and women falling for the bait. It’s a cycle of fakeness and desperation that never really turns full circle. At this year’s Rhythmic Vibrations one of our highlights was a performance on this same issue. It is not a fallacy that men have promised women mansions when they do not even have a pot to p*** in. I guess castles ARE built in the sky. Deka bi denj buga lu yomba torrop.
World Cup Fever
Talking of proving champion, I remember a few years ago how excited we were with our “darling baby scorpions” and their various performances at regional and international level. How fast time flies eh? The last time we had our football fiasco I penned an article damning the many (or few?) that had landed us in the mess we found ourselves. Now it’s different people, same mess! I had promised myself that I would not even spend a minute discussing the issue but as the World Cup looms, I am reminded of how the madness that roams our Fajara streets is even more present in our football.
A young talented nation is deprived of the opportunity to at least prove itself in the bid to play international simply because we are yet to even put our house in order. It’s not rocket science! One mistake after the other! First it was the MRI saga and now poor administration in matching documents with previous information. Cheating is only an option when one is smart enough to make it work. If you know you’re going to get caught, then why bother? I’ll keep my opinions to myself on the matter, lest my words be misinterpreted to be unpatriotic. However, that a few people would hold an entire nation ransom for either not understanding the rules, deliberately ignoring them, or not being able to solve the “simple matter” (if their words are anything to go by) without all the fuss it has been accompanied with is a grave sin that should be punishable by flogging. Du chahaan deh.
I believe I have overstayed my welcome on the Standard Newspaper for today because I can feel my finger itching for trouble. I’ll take a pause here, take a few deep breaths and hope my words do not fall on deaf ears. Ba benen yorn, Wa Salam.
By Latirr Carr
TGBA
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