Kalaki’s corner: dreaded Professor Clueless Cluo

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‘Come and sit down, Kalaki,’ she said, as she stood up from her desk, shook my hand, and pointed me in the direction of a plush green leather armchair. Then she hobbled towards her well-stocked cocktail cabinet. ‘What can I get you to drink? I know you like a drop of brandy.’
     ‘A double Klipdrift would do me fine,’ I replied.
     ‘We can do better than that in the minister’s  office,’ she cackled. ‘How about a double liqueur cognac? I’ve got a lovely twelve-year old Marie Antoinette here, how about that?’
     ‘That’ll do fine,’ I admitted.
     I was in the office of the Minister for Controlling the Poor, the dreaded Professor Clueless Cluo, a little wrinkled old woman, about four feet tall, but precariously  balanced on a pair of six inch high heels and wearing a miniskirt.
     She came back with the bottle and two elegant cut glass tumblers, put them on the walnut coffee table, and settled herself into the other armchair. ‘Well, Kalaki,’ she said, ‘are you still trying to see the funny side of life?’
     ‘Is there any other side?’ I laughed. ‘Take that nice big bottle of Marie Antoinette, for example. How can it be legal to sell a large amount of brandy in a big bottle, but illegal to sell a small amount in a little plastic sachet?’
     ‘So that’s why you’ve come,’ she laughed, ‘You want to know why I banned tujilijili.’
     ‘Of course,’ I said. ‘As the President-for-Life of the Zambia National Union of Brandy Drinkers, I am very concerned that this constitutes an attack on the poorer members of our great union, which has always stood for One Zambia One Drinker.’
     ‘My dear Kalaki,’ she sighed, ‘you’re way out of date. Times have changed since independence. Nowadays, we who are privileged to rule have a duty to control the terrible excesses of the lower classes.’
     ‘You mean the working class?’
     ‘Much lower than that,’ she said, as she took another swig of her cognac. ‘They drink so much that they can’t work.’
     ‘I rather thought,’ I said, ‘that they drink because they can’t find work. It gives them something else to do.’
     ‘Don’t be silly,’ she laughed. ‘There’s plenty of work, but they can’t do it because they’re always drunk. That’s why we’re having to bring in the Chinese.’
     ‘Half a minute,’ I said. ‘Let’s get back to my original point. There has to be some consistency in the law. According to the law, neither selling alcohol nor drinking alcohol is illegal. So how can it be an offence to sell a small amount in a sachet, but not an offence to sell a large amount in a bottle. Surely the larger amount is more dangerous?’
     ‘You’ve missed the point as usual,’ laughed Clueless Cluo. ‘The lower classes can’t afford a big bottle for twenty-five pin, so they have to buy small sachets at one pin each.’
     ‘So banning tujilijili will keep the lower classes sober?’
     ‘Exactly,’ she replied. ‘Help yourself to another drop of Marie Antoinette.’
     ‘Thanks,’ I said, as I refilled my glass. ‘But your policy still allows the ruling class to get drunk, and mess up the country horribly!’
     ‘We who are privileged to govern,’ explained Clueless Cluo, ‘are of course more educated and civilized than the lower classes. We know how to control our drinking. Besides, we don’t have to work with our hands or control machines, so it doesn’t matter if we’re not completely sober.’
     ‘The work of the upper class is just to sit and think,’ I suggested.
     ‘Exactly,’ she agreed. ‘We have to think how to control the poor and improve their miserable lives. And such elevated thinking needs imagination, which is much improved by a drop of brandy. In fact, it was only after drinking a full bottle of cognac that I came up with the marvelous idea of banning tujilijili.’ So saying, she tottered over to the cocktail cabinet to fetch another bottle of Marie Antoinette.
     ‘But you seem to have changed your party policy,’ I said. ‘During the election campaign you were giving tujilijili to the unemployed so that they would vote for you.’
     ‘Obviously we couldn’t give them jobs before we got into government, so instead we had to give them tujilijili to keep them happy.’
     ‘But now you’re in government, you still haven’t given them jobs.’
     ‘Don’t be dull, Kalaki. I’ve already told you that we have to get them off the tujilijili before they can be fit for employment. Nobody wants to employ a drunk.’
     ‘I know what you mean,’ I said sadly, as I took another gulp of the excellent Marie Antoinette.
     But all the time we had been talking there was a growing noise outside, and suddenly the Impermanent Secretary appeared in the doorway, bowing and clapping his hands.        ‘Please, Honourable Professor Doctor Madam Minister Sah, there’s a mob at the gate!’
     ‘What’s wrong with them this time?’ she shouted.
     ‘Madam, they say they’ve got no tujilijili!’
     ‘Send in the police to sort them out!’ ordered the minister.
     ‘Please Honorable Professor Minister,’ he whined, ‘it was the police who confiscated all the tujilijili, so now they’re all drunk!’
     Clueless Cluo staggered unsteadily to the window, and raised her glass of cognac in the direction of the distant protestors. ‘No tujilijili? she asked sarcastically, ‘then why don’t they take Marie Antoinette!’ So saying, she fell off her high heels, flat on the floor. Out cold.
     I turned to the Impermanent Secretary. ‘Splendid idea!’ I said. ‘Go and deliver Marie Antoinette to the crowd!’
Courtesy of http://kalakikorner.blogspot.com/

Comments Closed

24 Responses to Kalaki’s corner: dreaded Professor Clueless Cluo

  1. @jigga i feel sory for you for having missed the zed drama in the last 3-5 years of jiliworld. Utujilijili is cheap/low quality brandy,gin,vodka etc packed in 50ml nicely branded plastics. I dont know if you were around when we had a similar brand called NO.1 from Malawi or just Totapark. By the way am a follower of kalaki for a long time and my favority character has been the Action man or Cycle Matter my prezdo. I hope thats the name you wanted.

    Cozmokaojr - April 19, 2012
    08:10

  2. Nkandu luo should regulate beer drinking through the councils and stop that leadership kind that bullies around

  3. @Jigga
    If you were there in the 80′s, we had something called “Totapaks”. Same same with ‘tujilijili’.

    fbwabwino - April 19, 2012
    06:49

  4. Jigga,
    Tujilijili are small satchets of 40% alcohol in a pack like a condom size. They are sold in all tu ntembas.

    Kaponda Balani - April 19, 2012
    06:46

  5. Drinkers will simply move to kachasu and buy their ‘njungulas’ which are equally cheap..

    Fenwick - April 19, 2012
    05:51

  6. Im not much of a historian but wasnt there something similar during the french revolution, big mob outside the queens palace demanding bread and the queen ( was her name marie antoinette?) asked what they want and was told bread, then she says “give them cakes”, she was later beheaded.

    man of ze pipo - April 19, 2012
    03:20

  7. Tujiliz cant be compared with pamela. the potability of it made it easy even 4 sch, pupils 2 carry it in classrooms so the ban is a welcome regardless of our political afiliation period.

    simbotwe - April 18, 2012
    20:36

  8. campaigng by uzing jili world and decampaigng by banning jili world. Find a beta solution, orelse 1 term GOVNMENT.

    kulibonesha ta - April 18, 2012
    19:25

  9. Let me rush to the wholesale and stock up my supply of my favourite spirit kick – tujilijili, sharp, sharp!

    Sober drunkard - April 18, 2012
    18:56

  10. very funny & refreshing too!where have you been? i thought i had missed your funeral!

    eagle's eye - April 18, 2012
    17:39

  11. Dear bloggers i have seen what tujilji can do especially for agriculture. Chaps are sober in the morning when they report for work. by the time its midmorning they are drunk by them. they cannot work any more and the commercial farmer has to postponed his work.Keep it up ba minister

    mtombolilo - April 18, 2012
    17:39

  12. No more pamela.To be poor is a sin. The best would ve been increasing tax on the spirits packed in sachets.

    Marino - April 18, 2012
    17:23

  13. ‘But now you’re in government, you still haven’t given them jobs.’ Need anyone say more?

    By The Way - April 18, 2012
    16:43

  14. I am against the banning because PF want to be drinking tujilijili in State House alone! Look at how Ukwa shouts at his Ministers! One would think that he was high on tujilijili or maybe he always is!

    Fed up with Ukwa! - April 18, 2012
    16:31

  15. The banning of tujilijili is a first step but alcohol selling must be regulated. We also want those chibuku packs to disappear from being sold on the streets. Chibuku when consumed in huge volumes is equally intoxicating. Opaque beer is even bottled in plastic bottles that look like maheu

    The Chief - April 18, 2012
    16:25

  16. Banning of tujilijili was one good decision PF made.Next ban street vending.Yes,we can do it

    Changing Faces - April 18, 2012
    15:34

  17. Excellent piece Kalaki! So you are back after all! About time someone took the piss on these jokers, as those state house monkeys did on Rupiah. But hey, why aren’t you doing the Post? No pun intended!

    Deep Thinker - April 18, 2012
    15:25

  18. niece one .keep it up.

    BACK BENCHER - April 18, 2012
    15:20

  19. Prof.Clues cluo…Minister of the Poor

    Evelyn Hone - April 18, 2012
    14:58

  20. Hilarious, some officers will be whining the jiliz once confiscated esp johnys.

    First Gentleman - April 18, 2012
    14:55

  21. but where have you been?
    i said it here last week that This is a direct assault on the poor people.then all mechandise sold in small quantities should be banned
    altogether.

    mbonga - April 18, 2012
    14:40

  22. Clueless indeed! what do these fellows know?

    Nonsense!

    Headman Kagoli - Monze District - April 18, 2012
    14:25

  23. Funny!!

    Annan - April 18, 2012
    14:15

  24. A good one kalaki. I ve always been ur fan .keep it up

    Kalikeka - April 18, 2012
    14:09