YOU have got to feel a little sorry for Higher and Tertiary Education minister Jonathan Moyo, though.
guest column: NGONI DZASHE
I mean, for a man of his travelled intelligence to be backed so far up a corner that he has to flip back to his pre-school literature collection to find inspiration in hard times from The Adventures of Robin Hood, is kind of adorable, if you think about it.
It’s not to discount or digress from the fact that, maybe, just maybe, he ought to have taken a little bit more care of the “hard-earned taxpayers’ dollars”.
I am told even the government has barely enough to spare, let alone allegedly steal from.
These days, civil servants’ salary dates are erratic.
One would think a whole professor, pregnant with enough criminal intellect to allegedly make Zanu PF votes inexplicably appear in ballot boxes for more than a decade’s worth of elections, would have enough brainy chutzpah to cover his tracks if a few hundred thousand United States dollars started disappearing from a fund he was entrusted with.
As a kid, I once stole two fistfuls of sugar from the kitchen cupboard dead in the middle of the night.
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An hour later, my sweetened dreams were rudely interrupted by thorough belt swings and a bucketful of cold water.
Apparently, I had left a track of it that led straight to my bed.
But having also read a few books at creche and being no dummy myself, I collected the few wits one can master at 2am in the morning and used the underlying theme in the story of Rapunzel to calmly ask if they knew that my elder brother had sneaked in a girl from next door … and I was left to rest in relative peace, thanks for asking.
What the above story is desperately trying to make you understand is that there always greater crimes that you should always focus on before you lose your minds on the little, more innocent ones.
In any case, and I hate to say this, but some of you, comrades, are a murderous, tribalist bunch, sometimes.
If you can gladly be taken for a ride here in Harare, why can’t the people of Tsholotsho be handed rides, too? I mean, a few hundred thousand dollars buys a few bikes (for purely empowerment purposes) and you start pointing fingers at others’ pointy heads?
We have all been clowning around since 1980 just to keep you entertained.
What’s a circus act without a few bicycles, comrades?
