An Introduction: The context
Today is April Fools Day and many on this day are certainly going to fall victim to cheap Fools day pranks. And today in this column, in the true spirit of the day, we go for freaks, laughter and light-hearted banter.
In most countries, Fools’ Day falls on the first day of April. Fools day received its name and prominence from the custom of playing practical jokes on this day—for example, telling friends that their shoelaces are untied or sending them on so-called fools’ errands.
Although the day has been observed for centuries, its true origin remains unknown.
There are variations between countries in the celebration of April Fools’ Day, but all have in common an excuse to make someone play the fool.
Dear reader, kindly note that the word Fool in this piece is used in the context of Fools Day. The word “fool” in this piece s not used literally in its derogatory and pejorative sense but is applied in an intellectual sense of abstraction.
In this piece, and in the context of the day, I use the word “fool” flippantly to refer to our very own human repository of clownish and thespian tendencies that he has exhibited mainly through polemics, poise and deportment.
Each country, family and community has its own pranksters. But our own clown as a nation is dressed in royal robes and Zimbabweans know him by his various acts of omission and commission, some of which have been met with mirth and derision.
The idea of Fools or clowns at the palace dates back to British culture during the Elizabethan times. As captured by English playwright William Shakespeare in his popular plays, the King himself was not expected to be the clown.
But the palace had to have a clown or a court jester, then known as a Fool, whose task was to provide comic relief to the serious and vexing issues of State that were often transacted at the palace.
But in our case, it is the King himself who has become the court jester. The King has become the clown, in what others regard as having led to the bastardization and cheapening of the reverence often associated with the highest office in the land.
I have previously written that when a clown occupies the palace, he simply turns it into a circus. Indeed, when a clown occupies the palace, he does not become a King. He simply turns the palace into a circus because by tradition, clowns don’t run countries or kingdoms.
Though he has in many ways reduced himself to a clown, Mnangagwa is not even equivalent in prudence to the Fool in Shakespeare’s King Lear who spoke sense and pricked the King’s conscience.
Our leader, His Excellency, is a typical clown of cheap amusement in the mould of Launcelot Gobbo in The Merchant of Venice or Gratiano in the same play who was reputed to speak “an infinite deal of nothing.”
Gratiano’s mate, Bassanio, said of his friend that his reasoning was as valueless as two grains of wheat in two bushels of chaff which one may spend the whole day searching for, yet when you find them, they are not worth the search.
So too is the case with our royal Highness.
ED’s tragic legacy of dry humour
Fools are associated with the month of April. Tellingly, in April 2023, ED sought to give a public lecture in math and told a bemused nation that when one wants to write one million in figures, they should start by writing down six zeroes, a comma and then the figure 1 (000 000, 1). For our dear President, that is how you write a million in figures.
When he said this, we all knew that the clown had occupied the palace.
In November 2021, at the launch of some scholarship at State House, the leaked video of our visibly drunk Palace Fool strutting his comic staff at the podium was the clearest evidence yet that a clown had occupied the palace.
In the epic circus optic, his trademark scarf was not strangling the neck as usual. In its place was an unknotted, dangling pink neck-tie that hung loosely across the old, creaking alabaster shoulders while on his face lay a sheepish, stupendous grin that betrayed a vacuously blank mind as two aides held his outstretched hands.
The aides were seen accosting him to what looked like a reluctant podium that appeared not too keen to host one so highly inebriated!
A prudent Royal King should never himself play the Fool and be the object of raucous laughter. But when the leaked video of dishevelled and visibly drunk royalty was circulated widely across the country, some of us knew that a clown had occupied the palace.
At one point while in the middle of a public delivery during Easter holidays, unaware that he was on a live microphone, ED was heard asking his aides whether Easter was the time when Jesus was born or died. He didn’t even know whether Easter was the commemoration of Jesus’ birth or death and loudly asked his minions for guidance right in the middle of his speech.
Some of us knew then it was all because a clown had occupied the palace.
Only recently and in widely publicised videos, he appeared unaware that passenger train services had collapsed in the country. Neither did he appear to know that the country’s stadia were not fit for purpose and that the country’s national soccer team had to “host” its home matches outside the country.
It all showed that a court jester had occupied the palace
At one time, after officially opening a mortuary, he said he had placed his hand inside and felt that the temperature was OK as it was very cold. He added, with a smile, that he would give a prize to the first bereaved family to use the mortuary:
“ Ndakaisa ruoko rwangu maitonhorera chaizvo . Kana watanga kupinda ndinomupa mari.”
When he made this public promise to reward the first bereaved family to use the mortuary, some of us knew it was all because a Fool had indeed occupied the palace.
Nobody but a tragically epic clown could crack such a dry, gothic joke.
At one time, he told despondent Zimbabweans to avoid meat if they could not afford it. He instead urged them to settle for cheaper relish such as vegetables and potatoes. He hollered like a tout: “Idyai murivoooo nemapotatooooo ”
We knew then that the clown had occupied the palace.
At the height of the Covid-19 pandemic, our royal Fool drunkenly exhorted every Zimbabwean to get vaccinated. He made his public statement while smiling sheepishly:
“Jungwai . Munhu wese anofanira kujungwa ”
The Fool had indeed occupied the palace.
At one time, our royal court jester said the government would arrest anyone whose house was found with roaches and other creeping insects:
“Tichasunga munhu wese ane musha une mapete ”
The clown had definitely occupied the palace.
When Zimbabweans complained of high prices of goods and services, our royalty urged them to equally hike the prices of whatever they were selling themselves, adding that those who had no price to hike should hike their own trousers and pants:
“Kana usina chokukwidza kwidza bhurugwa.”
The Fool had indeed occupied the palace.
Upon his return from the COP26 summit in Scotland a few years ago, where his minions appeared with trolleys laden with whiskey bottles, our court jester, with the unmitigated exhilaration of an impressionable teenager, told a shocked nation that at long last he had shaken hands with then US President Joe Biden and then British Premier Boris Johnson.
A rookie in the world of diplomacy, our royal clown naively expressed gratitude that the two leaders had smiled back at him when he greeted them:
“Ndakavakwazisa vakanyemwera.”
The clown had indeed occupied the palace.
Fellow Zimbabweans, be wary of yet another April Fools’ Day prank from the usual royal suspect. Only that our royal court jester, just like the Fool during the Elizabethan era, does not wait for April 1. He doles out his pranks and hilarious bangers every other day!
Luke Tamborinyoka is a citizen from Domboshava. By profession he is a journalist and a political scientist. You can interact with him through his Facebook page or via the X handle @ luke_tambo.
Discover more from Nehanda Radio
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
