Parliamentary Debate - the Ugly Truth of it all
A Special Report by Correspondent Paddy McAllport Pettifog Sr.
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
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
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
TRYATHLON GOES WRONG
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
"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
"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 BURIED
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.
SYNCHRONISED SWIMMERS LOST AT SEA
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
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
ZAMBIAN MINISTER'S ANGER AT DISCUS SLUR
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
"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
"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.
OFFICIAL GOVERNMENT NOTICE
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.
THEREFORE BE IT KNOWN
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.
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 in pursuit of the opposition...
MEET THE GOVERNMENT!
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...
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. of Sport carrying bowl of
paraffin for lighting Olympic Flame
ZIM PREMIER INCOGNITO!
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.