In the African Politician’s DNA
The ability of human enterprise is limitless. Generations keep pushing boundaries. Every couple of generation considers the previous ones primitive. Quite markedly generation preferences change over time. Yet human beings have remained the same. Any evidence of change, it can be said, lies in the perceived enhanced abilities of humanity. Today, humanity has managed to break physical boundaries by establishing a virtual world. With a mobile phone in your hands you can hold an instant conference.
In a classic case of miscommunication, Tham, a best office performer known for attending to his tasks aptly, texted his wife. Tham worked every day the week producing magnificently for his firm. He finished writing his text message and hit the send. His boss, standing in front of Tham, was calling for an impromptu conference late in the day. On the other end his wife Monica was at home attending to her newly born child. She flapped open her phone. The message read: ‘this guy at the front needs to be shot; but I left my gun in the drawer.’ It was meant to be a joke about his boss.
The wife headed for the drawer and confirmed the pistol right in the middle of the drawer. That is the time she heard her baby, in need of comfort from her, cry. The she heard some movement at the front door. She remembered the message she had just read about someone at the front. She tip toed to the front door, raised the rod and, as her husband had demonstrated at the shooting range, fired. On the other side of the door she heard a thud. She, almost simultaneously, let out a cry that attracted the neighbors. An unconscious, unidentified adolescent male lay by the door. The police managed to capture his fingerprints before he died.
Monica, unable to bear the crime of murder, was overcome with grief and unable to describe the chain of events. The king invited Tham to make his submissions. His voice quaking with fear of the judgment that lay ahead of him, he gave his narration.
“I was referring to my immediate boss who was waiting for me in front of my office.”
“Can you read for us what you wrote,” bellowed the king.
Trembling like a reed, words coming through his teeth, Sam read slowly: this guy at the front needs to be shot; but I left my gun in the drawer.
“Whatever that meant.” The king was visibly angry.
“I was jokingly telling my wife to deliver me from my boss who was delaying my going home to her.”
“Who was the person who got shot?” It was evident that the king was not entirely buying the story.
The alleged, buried unmarked, thief who was shot remained unknown for lack of a litigant.
A decade down the line in 2006 unidentified male fingerprints, and DNA was traced to a prominent family of an African politician.
“It is in their blood.” A blogger commented.
Two questions remain unanswered. One, what sort of sense made Tham talk of someone at the front of his family home when he was quite remote from his home? Two, how could a joke go too far?