New Salisbury Herald
Salisbury, Rhodesia. Issue no. 4


A regular, if somewhat irregular, chronicle of news on: The Rhodesian Government in Exile

  • Parliamentary Debate - the Ugly Truth of it all

    A Special Report by Correspondent Paddy McAllport Pettifog Sr.

    Sapa Rooters

    Our correspondent has managed to lay hands on the official minutes of the most recent parliamentary debate of the RGiE, and in view of our motto to serve only the interests of the public we are hereby printing some of the most sensational passages. Mind you, we won't complain if it boosts sales of the NSH as well... Comments in parentheses are an attempt to convey the actual atmosphere of the meeting!

    Subsequent to lots of banging with a hammer on his table, and a short delay while a new table was fetched for him, the Right Honourable PM declared the meeting open, the bar closed, and ordered all those who were not serving the interests of the RGiE in general to leave the bar. Another delay ensued as all the MPs filed out and had to be fetched back again, the PM explaining with some exasperation that he had NOT said "all those who were not interested in being served". To mollify the rebellious MPs he declared the bar open again.

    The debate then got under way:

    PM: Gentlemen, Ladies, and er... [casting a murderous glance at the opposition hopefuls seated close to the door] others. We are gathered here to debate whether or not to break with established African tradition and actually permit an opposition party to take its place in the hallowed halls of Government... well, in the bar, anyway. We are, after all, a democratic institution, free speech for all, right to one's own opinion and all that claptrap that my esteemed British colleague Blair keeps rabbiting on about. Now, my feelings on this subject are...
    Min Bantu Affairs: Point of order, sir, I need...
    PM: Look, shut up, no-one said you could speak yet...
    Min Bantu Affairs: But sir, I must just point out that...
    PM: For God's sake, belt up, you'll get a turn later, maybe. Now where was I? Oh ja, we are democratic and must listen to what the people have to say. Well, [casting withering look at opposition hopefuls picking noses] everyone who's got something worthwhile to say, that is.
    So, opposition. Do we allow it or not?

    At this point one of the opposition hopefuls named Zeus Bung-Bungee stands up and clears his throat loudly.

    Zeus: Sah, as a descendant of the original phonetechnicians who built the Great Zimbabwe Trade Centre, I would like to say...
    Min African Affairs: Oh sit down you glorified repository of [censored] from a camel's [censored]. We haven't decided whether to allow you to even be here yet, never mind regurgitate all that [censored]... Besides, you didn't build the bloody thing (glaring accusingly at Zeus), you bloody broke it...
    Zeus: I must object to this callous dismissal of...
    Min African Affairs: Oh jeeze, go and do it outside, will you, we don't want your verbal [censored] spattering all over the floor in here!
    Min Defence: [regaling opposition hopefuls with baleful stare] Bomb 'em all to hell and gone, I say, blerry nuisances.
    Min Gastronomy: Yes, there's an idea. What's the point of an opposition, anyway? They never answer your questions, never tell you anything, worse than the blooming Israelis, they are...
    PM: Gentlemen! Ladies! Look, that's not the democratic way, and besides, we haven't stolen, I mean been given, enough bombs to do the job properly yet.
    Min E-Warfare: Don't need 'em, do we now? Just give me a Pentium 4 and an ISDN connection, and I'll wipe 'em away with electrickery!
    Min Defence: [muttering morosely] Real bombs are more fun...
    Min African Affairs: [standing up threateningly] How about I just arrest the bugger? I'm still the law around here...
    PM: Gentlemen, please. To get back to the subject...
    Min Defence: [wistfully] Well, if we can't bomb them, what have we got all those bombs for...?
    Min Something or Other: May I make a helpful suggestion at this point...
    PM: [suspiciously] Who the hell are you?
    Min Something or Other: I'm Minister of Something or Other.
    PM: [enquiringly] Oh yes? What exactly?
    Min Something or Other: [patiently] Something or Other, Sir, and I...
    PM: [getting exasperated] Yes, well, you'd have to be, wouldn't you, or you wouldn't be here, would you? Spit it out, man!
    Min Something or Other: No, no, you misunderstand, I actually am the Minister of Something or Other...
    PM: I should bloody hope so! Question is, of what? [suspiciously] You didn't just sneak in here for the booze and the wimmin, I hope?
    Min Defence: [lost deep in thought] It's that whistling sound they make as they go down, nothing quite like it, don't get that with a bloody mail bomb...
    Min Something or Other: [plaintively] I need to know what my duties are, now that I'm Minister of Something or Other...
    PM: [rapidly losing it] Well, if you can't remember which portfolio you were given, don't look at me... You have to pay attention at elections, you know, just because you get a bunch of votes doesn't mean you automatically get to be a minister of one thing or another.
    Min Something or Other: No, Something or Other, actually. There's a big difference, though one thing can lead to another in an election...
    Min Defence: [lost even deeper in thought] And then they go... KA-BOOM...! And there's guts and brains and entrails all over the place...
    Min African Affairs: [musingly] I think I WILL just arrest the bugger. Solve all our problems in one go.
    Min Something or Other: [hopefully] I'm also the Deputy Sheriff, actually, does that help?
    PM: [decisively] Ah, now we're getting somewhere! That's settled then, go out and shoot somebody, or buy some rope for your car bumper, or something, and stop ballsing up our parliament.
    Min Health: Gentlemen, I feel we should be doing our bit to prevent Aids in our country. Now if all the girls go and...
    Min Sport: [waking up suddenly and pricking up ears] Go-Go Girls? Here in the bar? I second the motion!
    [General hubbub and pounding of tables as all ministers rise to their feet to third, fourth and fifth the motion. Zeus flees the room in desperation with the Sheriff in hot pursuit. The Min of S or O mutters something that sounds suspiciously like "Screw you guys, I'm going home!" and the first day's debate on the future of the new Rhodesian Empire comes to a successful close...]

  • The All African Olympics

    A Report by Special Correspondent 'Bush' D. Wella

    Winner Feels Devalued

    It all began to go wrong before it even began at the First All African Olympics today. Early this morning hundreds of enterprising Tryathletes gathered for the first event of its kind, the Central African version of Hawaii's Iron Man, known in these parts as the Tryathlon. It was 6.00 a.m., two hours before the official start time, when the race began. Competitors have to complete a gruelling course. First the 20 metre dash in the new Olympic Short Of Course pool outside Chililabombwe, then a cycle into town, followed by a long run to the new African Unity Stadium designed by the famed Shona architects of Great Zimbabwe a thousand miles to the south. The new stadium is an exact replica and stands proudly at the edge of Chililabombwe, beside the football ground.

    Before the race, competitors were taken for an early morning game viewing trip. Organisers had hoped to teach competitors about nature and conservation as part of the Games. How they must rue that decision?

    As the Tryathletes lined up along the muddy banks of the Kafue river this morning, two things happened. First, a convoy of Zimbabwean troops approached, headed from Lubumbashi to Chililabombwe for some soccer, a few scuds and some hookie-hookie. They sang chimurenga songs, remembering their victorious ZANLA mission missions, and knew that diamonds were a girl's best friend. They saw the assembled athletes and waved. "A Luta Continua!" troops in the lead vehicle shouted, thinking this might be Angola. Then the ZBC Sports helicopter flew over.

    Troops in the second vehicle thought those in front were shouting "Alouette!" and opened fire, raking the treetops with thousands of rounds. We counted 14 RPGs going over our heads as a dozen reporters sheltered beneath a fallen teak. The convoy sped away at top speed, 15 m.p.h. When I got up I found the river bank deserted. My ears were assaulted by a cacophany of splashing. The race was on. Early. And in the wrong place. This quiet little backwater on the Kafue was known locally as Hippo Pools.


    Later, after lunch at my hotel and a change of underwear, I managed to catch up with the winner as he hopped across the finish line in the Stadium of Rocks. The young man, Sixpence Nomoluzi, told me what had happened.

    "Maiwe! That was too hard!" he said with typical African understatement. "Today I change my name please? These organisers they were useless. No-one is giving us enough briefs" he complained, reminding me of my own predicament. "They not even saying 'on you marks, get set .....'.

    "Before coming here to Zambia for this Olympics Tryathlon, I was reading about these things. You know, is swimming then cycling then running, so we were thinking this is very dangerous place for swimming. Water is too deep to stand. Nobody is telling us about new pool there in town!" It was enough to make you cry.

    "Also, nobody is telling us about stutting gun. Maiwe! Is very powerful stutting gun they fire. Everybody is jumping in water straight away and start splashing plenty plus plus. Then is coming hippopotomooses. Oooh, maiwe! And some corocodoles also. They tell us about them at school."

    "Anyway, is O.K. When I'm getting to other side of pool in fifteen seconds, I'm thinking 'Sixpence, OK, this was pretty armless event' then suddenly I'm noticing that Sixpence is completely armless. Mebbe it was corocodole, I don't know."

    Dripping blood still, this new young King of the Track told me of his surprise when he realised that two other competitors had made it to the other side of Hippo Pools.

    "Now we find plenty trouble caused by Zambia disorganisation. After swim, next is bicycle ride, but no any bicycles anywhere. Mebbe they forget, is pretty useless these Zambians - that is why before now all those Northern Rhodesian peoples are leaving going living in proper Rhodesia. Anyway, no bicycles, so we going looking looking. Sixpence is lucky. Finding Lobels Bread Boy who is not looking, so I'm pinching his bike chop chop and heading for town."

    "Now Sixpence is leading race. But not so fast. Nother one competitor, is from Jo'burg, is carrying Tokarev. He's carrying out daylight bike-jacking,stealing bicycle from old madala in next village. Suddenly Sixpence is being overtaken by man on Raleigh Three-Speed. Also I'm finding very difficult steering Lobels bicycle. Is hard for anybody, but now both my arms are being left behind. No chance for Sixpence to win . Mebbe I get second place, eh?"

    He shrugged, indicating a degree of resignation. It's a common emotion among Africans. Then his face lit up.

    "But race not finished yet. Mr Jo'burg Tryathlete is having plenty problems in front of me. Tokarev is make A.D. and is getting front wheel ponctch. No way to fix that so I'm overtaking on inside. As I pass I'm shouting 'Iwe! Try Athlone Garage!' to him. Now I'm leading, but cannot steering so I leave bicycle and start running."

    As I helped medics staunch the flow of blood from his shoulder wounds, I had to admire this man's fortitude.

    "Well, you've achieved an incredible result here today, Sixpence. Watching you hop across the line on one leg, both arms missing, was an emotional moment for us all. Tell ZBC Sports viewers how you lost your right foot."

    "Ohhhhh! Enza mistake, Baas! Schtupid! When I was leaving bike I'm noticing everybody coming from bushes stealing bread, tyres everthing. I was too frightened. I could not think straight anymore. Sixpence is deciding to taking shotcut." He rolled his eyes backwards in a gesture of stupidity.

    "Big mistake, taking shotcut through bush here. You see, those wovvets from Zimbabwe farms, they are coming here too in Zambia now, looking more things to break. I'm running very fast through farm because no any more fences here to slow me down. Then I find why. I'm getting right foot caught in wire snare. 'Tchsheeeep' my foot is gone because I'm such fast tryathlete. So now I'm hopping mad, determined to win, you see me getting here, Champion Ironman Sixpence."

    We were interrupted as officials carted him off for the medal ceremony.

    Later, as the sun set over Chililabombwe, we spoke again. Proudly wearing his winners medal, an old thrupenny coin on a piece of string, worth a million Kwacha, he leaned forward and sipped his beer though a straw. I reminded him that he had talked of changing his name.

    "Of course! You see this medal? How can I be called Sixpence, All Africa Olympics Try Athlete Champion? No, from today Medem will have to call me like this - 'Tickey, Iron Man! ' "

    Tickey! Even in darkest Africa, that's just half a Sixpence!



    Shot putter Kharm el Jokky from Morocco was buried this morning without having made a single putt. The North African champion was just starting his first practice round Monday, in preparation for the Olympic Pitch and Putt contest, when he was shot by poachers on the practice green at Royal Lusaka Golof Club.



    The All Africa Synchronised Swimming competition will take place tomorrow without the Kenyan team. The Nairobi based quartet, who had promised to "sink or swim with the best Africa can offer" failed to complete the 300 metre dash to shore Monday when their aircraft ran out of fuel on its way to Lusaka and ditched in the sea just off the north western coast of Madagascar.

    Their pilot, Captain 'Aikona' Hazi, who survived, is still being questioned by Madagascan police. We understand that when asked where he was going at the time of the crash, Capt. Hazi expressed astonishment at their lack of intelligence and grabbed a map from his captors.

    "We were going from Nairobi to the All African Olympics in Zambia" he stated, pointing to the northern half of a large island east of southern Africa.



    Zambia's rotund and usually jovial Sports Minister was fuming last night as he fended off claims of poor organisation at the All African Olympics. The row started when Ethiopian discus champion M.A. Siatid broke down in tears at a press conference, accusing Zambian officials of total incompetence.

    "These bloody Zamboons are completely useless" he told astonished reporters in the capital, Lusaka. "How can they expect athletes to compete properly under these conditions?"

    Siatid, who along with team mates had missed breakfast when their bus arrived an hour early at their hotel, spoke of the dreadful journey they had endured.

    "We really thought the driver was lost and that we would all miss the event, but no, he was going to the right place! My team mates all agree with Tickey Nomoluzi, Iron Man, that these Zambians are complete morons! Disorganised? These people couldn't organise a breakdown in a 20-year old Renault 4 taxi if they tried! Not even the Minister of Sport!"

    Siatid's remarks came after all the competitors had withdrawn from the Discus competition citing safety fears. This after their bus delivered all 20 competitors to the new "Haile Selassie Lives" Ten Pin Bowling and Conference Centre in the city centre.

    The official programme described the event as "All Africa Discuss Heat".

    The stalwarts of the Zimbabwean Javelin team pose proudly for the camera. This picture lacks at least 4 members of the team, as it was taken just after the event ended in disarray when spectators from a different tribe took umbrage at the thought of their traditional enemies being allowed to chuck spears all over the place and started retrieving them from the field and throwing them back at the contestants with deadly effect...



    An alert photographer of the New Salisbury Herald was able to snap this unposed photograph of the recruiting office of the new Slousie Scouts (pronounced to rhyme with "lousy") recruiters at their office in the desert. Though skilfully blending in with the background and looking much like any modern African of this revolutionary age, they aroused the photographer's suspicions. He thereupon snapped this candid shot when he thought they weren't looking and later showed it to the Min. of Information. The latter has confirmed that these men are carrying on the tradition of the former Selous Scouts, working undercover as pseudo Africans and dressed and equipped to look like any wovet who just happens to be passing someone else's farm. To the untrained eye they look like any average peaceful African wukkers and would not stand out in an average crowd of Africans. The Min. of Information has expressly forbidden any use of this photo to avoid compromising the unit, and has asked us to include it in this edition so that the general public will know which photo may not be used, disseminated or made public in any way.

    New Ministers

    Following the recent election held at the infamous Indaba Bar, at which all the ballots were declared spoiled because:

    a. None of the candidates were named by name, all wishing to remain Anonymous, and it proved impossible to locate any candidates by that name to fill ALL the vacant posts.

    b. Beer was spilled over most of the ballots, rendering them largely illegible to all but the barman, who gave up counting after three minutes when someone yelled "Drinks on Me!" and he had to go and rescue the poor chap from several ministers who were apparently in literal mood and pouring their beers over his head.

    c. The minister responsible for overseeing the printing of the ballots to be used in the capital, New Sarum, had phrased the instructions for voting in his own Scottish dialect, and everyone thought they were menus from MacDonalds down the road.


    That the Following have been duly appointed by popular acclaim, and because we said so:

    Minister of Something or Other (by his own request) - Mr. Dirk du Plooy (who will nevertheless continue to exercise his function as Deputy Sheriff)

    Minister of Gastronomy - Mrs. Delia Adams (noted foreign food critic)

    Minister of Electronic Warfare - Mr. Tim Davis

    Minister of Native Affairs (in the "broad"est sense of the word) - Mr. Rob Annandale (who received no votes, but has been pestering us for years to appoint him as something, so what the heck!)

    Minister of Bantu Affairs - Mr. Graham Patterson (Affairs in this case not involving broads or other blokes' wives)

    Consular General for Hawaii - The Rt Hon Lord Sir Tamm, Master of the Late Gasket, Rhodesian Viceroy, Rhodesian Order of Veldskoens plus 2Bars, Island Emissary, OC Comops Pacific at JOC Hilo, Bali Raider, Kiwi Sheep expert, GSM, HAELS, and all round dashing good looks.

Editorial Disclaimer:
Contributions may or may not reflect editorial policy, mostly they will, but not necessarily so on occasion, or even in all cases. Just like girls - sometimes they will, sometimes they won't...

Letters to the editor will be accepted for publication in future issues. Please sign with your full name if expressing controversial opinions, and if resident in Zim, include directions for finding your house, where possible using old street names for the benefit of those older members of the CIO who have not quite mentally adjusted to the new order yet. A copy of your letter pasted in a front window, with a large painted arrow pointing at your front door would be greatly appreciated.

Letters for publication may be sent to THE EDITOR. All letters will be treated with the utmost, impartial, respect for freedom of speech, but we reserve the right to distort them where necessary, change wording at will, and otherwise reverse all opinions expressed in them. Profane letters will not be published, but will be placed in the editor's private collection along with any "artistic" photos of themselves that female readers may wish to contribute.

The Sheriff

The Sheriff in pursuit of the opposition...


Indaba listserv - readers can make the acquaintance of some of the figureheads behind the real people (and vice versa) tugging valiantly at the strings of the government in exile by joining INDABA. Here you can follow exciting debates, read astute comments on current affairs, order drinks, and generally get yelled at and called all kinds of interesting names if you disagree with anyone except the opposition. These are the actual people who almost went back to Zimbuggerme, nearly did a takeover, and ended up stealing the T-shirts...

Official Disclaimer

Manual recount demanded

Objections were raised recently by the unofficial opposition to the RGiE, claiming that voting for the position of Air Marshall by a show of hands was highly irregular in view of the prior consumption of large amounts of shumba in the bar. Several MPs claimed they had no idea a vote was being taken and were merely indicating their dire need to be allowed to leave the debate and take a leak. Others claimed that they were simply trying to attract the attention of the barman and that the incumbent Air Marshall sneakily took advantage of all this wild gesticulating.

A call for a manual recount has been dismissed on the grounds that no-one can recollect which hands were raised and which were clutching beer mugs at the time. Furthermore several hands have been declared invalid as a result of not being properly punched during the traditional punch-up at closing time. They cannot be validated until the plaster casts come off.

The confusion surrounding this misvote has not been helped by the somewhat bemused Army Chief bringing in trunks full of Army Handbooks for the manual recount.

The legality of the Rhodesian Government in Exile has been confirmed by the fact that it now has an official opposition party (poor misguided souls), who have set up a web site in a vain attempt to oppose our juggernaut (some hope) from regaining its rightful place at the head of our ever-expanding empire. If you are misguided enough to want to read their policy statements, or are just at a loss where to get your next laugh, you can find them at:
Zimbabwe46 's Home Page
Although it seems serious, we suspect that it's actually a gigantic spoof put on by students of the Rhodesian Empire University as an absolutely ingenious satire on African politics. So don't come crying to us afterwards and claim we didn't warn you! Be advised that if you click the above link, all kinds of inedible cookies will start insinuating themselves onto your hard drive, your name and location will be fed back to us in cgi bins, and isp fingers will start pointing, ferreting out your most intimate details and ftp-ing them onto our mainframe (Microsap taught us well). But we're a democratic government, so feel free to vote for them if you wish to risk everything you hold dear (your life, liberty, mistress, wine cellar, etc)...

Zambian Min Sport
Zambian Min. of Sport carrying bowl of paraffin for lighting Olympic Flame


The Zim Premier was snapped by one of our photographers while attending the Olympic Games, travelling incognito and accompanied by his bodyguards. Apparently our roving reporter was the only person to notice anything unusual about his disguise.

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