General Chiwenga poured himself another glass of Glenfiddich and raised his glass to the small number of officers sitting with him in front of the TV. I think we can congratulate him on another successful birthday. he said. But will we need to get him another term next year?
This inner circle had grown smaller, because no new officer had joined it since 2010 and a few had left it in the normal course of events.
Should we make another new constitution? muttered one. Hardly necessary replied Chiwenga, hes there and thats all that matters. Nobody expects him to still run around the way he did when he was seventy, or even to go to banquets. Theres plenty of old film of him talking and welcoming foreign dignitaries in case anyone has doubts about his health, but the last election campaign was difficult. Too many journalists were saying they couldnt find anyone who had heard him make a live speech.
Yes, hes there and as long as we look tough, nobody will want to remove him, said one officer, and the rest murmured agreement as they sipped their whisky. After all, hes not going to die on us, and that was all we ever had to fear.
They all raised their glasses to that and sat back while they waited for the ZTV News.
For indeed they did not need to fear that he would die on them, because he had done that years before.
As he aged, his public appearances had grown less and he had become more careful of his security, which put more barriers between him and the general public, so by the time he passed to his reward hardly anyone outside his inner circle had seen him in the flesh for over a year.
The inner circle, apart from the military commanders in this room, included only his closest family, one or two non-uniformed party officials and, of course, the indispensible Angolan guards. For the past few years the guards had been selected, not only for their ignorance of Shona and English, but also because they were deaf and dumb. Security was complete.
Nobody outside that circle needed to know that when the dreaded event occurred, a team of deaf and dumb Chinese taxidermists had been rushed in secretly to embalm the deceased leader.
When they marched around him to his throne at Heroes Acre or at party rallies, the top commanders and essential guards formed such a tight cordon around him that nobody else saw that his feet didnt touch the ground. On such occasions, he did sometimes raise a fist, but not even the police chiefs could see which Angolan was pulling the string that worked that trick.
As for the rest, there was all that old film to show on TV and fool the masses.
The officers sat back to enjoy ZTVs crowning touch to the annual deception. But what was happening? He was seen on the screen giving one of his most erudite speeches, and turned for a moment to his left. Amai Sally was seen beaming up at him.
A cry of alarm broke from every mouth in the room, Heads will roll for this! growled one, but it was too late. They could already hear the soldiers laughing as they deserted the nearby barracks. Within minutes came the sounds of cheering and dancing in the streets. The commanders, left without a Commander-in-Chief and now without soldiers to command, scrambled desperately to escape.
Post published in: News