Tears Ayuen: I AM AN MP

I’M AN MP

I’m an MP, an elected MP

Constitutionally, I represent my people

I’m their spokesperson

I raise their issues

I’m a law-maker,

An examiner of the work of the government

I check out how it spends taxes raised by my people

I contribute to debates on national issues

I receive Constituency Development Funds,

 I’m in charge of how and what to spend it on

As its name suggests,

The sum is meant for development,

For the betterment of my constituents’ lives

It’s usually a large amount

For building healthcare centers,

Strengthening security,

Establishing schools

Building road networks to connect my constituency

With its neighboring areas

I’m an MP, an elected MP

I know that

Whenever a constituency has good road networks,

Better health clinics and schools for children to go to-

Or in short, if I spend the CDF well:

Workers work;

Nurses nurse

Traders trade

Teachers teach

Farmers farm

They gather good harvests

Granaries get filled up

Everyone eats enough food

Starvation emigrates

Men take pride in their brand new pot-bellies

Women develop big buttocks,

Just like my wives’

Surpluses are sold

 Local trade prospers

She winks and purrs

And beckons to the private sector

Investors come kneeling, begging

Factories come smiling

Smoke emitted by manufacturing

Companies is seen afar off

As you approach my small town

Employment opportunities call my people out

By their nicknames:

“Gutakalthi, Poni, Jacksee, Gatluak, Ukel, Wani

Come and work here. Please don’t turn down this chance

It comes with a lot of benefits;

Medical cover for you and your family, car, house allowances,

Free scholarships for your children up to university”

No doubt, living standards improve

Every face wears an infectious smile

Only few fall sick

Mothers give birth safely

To bouncing babies

Infant mortality goes on leave, permanent leave

 Babies develop cheeks the size of their buttocks,

Yep, healthy kids!

Maternal mortality hits the road

Girls and boys go to school

They study uninterrupted

Before leaving campus;

Some become athletes, international footballers,

Singers, dunkers

They graduate

As doctors, bankers, geologists, environmentalists

They work for international organizations

The likes of ICC and the World Bank

The cycle is broken,

A new page is turned;

No more cattle rustlers

Violent crime rate drops

Bandits confess and repent

Child abduction disappears

Forced marriage becomes history

Ethnic hostilities go missing

But who cares about the CDF anyway?

Who amongst my subjects knows what it is for?

Who knows when it is released?

Who knows how much?

Who follows it up?

Who knows when the last one was released?

Did anyone question me

Over its spending?

Does anybody really bother to know whether I’m actually engaged in

Any of the projects I propose?

The ones I get approvals from the parliament?

Could it be journalist?

This country’s reporters?

Ha ha ha ha ha ha

Do they really know anything?

I don’t think they are typical reporters

What do they know?

I do watch them

 No passion

No interest

I think majority are in the media business

Because it’s the only job that has presented itself to them

Only few try though

None of them has ever unearthed

Any of the greatest scandals my comrades and I commit

I think they just bluff,

Pretending to be rough and tough

There’s a one boy-journalist that wears dreadlocks

I do spot him during official functions

And in the streets collecting vox pops

He wears his pants below the waist

Traditionally, journalists are official enemies for folks like me

They are snoopers

But can this one, the pant-sagging type be of any harm?

Does he have what it takes to watch out for?

I don’t think so!

I’m an MP, an elected MP

My subjects are politically blind

I call them mere voters aka political customers

They’re still innocent, naïve

They are valuable during elections only

I sometime pity them

They flock to freedom squares,

 In the scotching heat of the sun,

 Lips dry as bone,

Hunger engraved on their faces

Longing to listen to speeches from an MP

An MP that promises heaven and earth

Poor electoral materials!

Now that I got my hands on the funds,

What do I do with it?

By the way,

My youngest wife, Cherryl Ogutu nags me, non-stop

She is a pain in the ass

 She makes me sick

She “hi honeys” me for a car

She claims her friends ride harriers

Why not her, an MP’s?

She is sending me to grave

I must cancel this early journey to grave

I’m going to buy her Toyota Wish

I’m an MP, elected MP

My Land Cruiser is old

And my neighbor, Jacob Chol Kur

Brags about his new Hummer

He thinks he is ahead of everyone

I am buying a train!!

Oh I’m forgetting

I’ll add extra floors

To my 6-storey commercial glass building in Adelaide

My custodian, Soleil Eshoud just called me

He has hired a contractor

A done deal

Election Day comes in few days

What do I do?

Wait a minute

I got an idea

In my previous tenure;

I erected a grass-thatched mud structures

As Forget-Me-Not primary school

 I also cleared three dirt roads

Now, I am going to buy chiefs and elders

 Something that will keep discussions running smoothly

Cartons of Red Horse will do

 They will drink away suspicion of any kind

2 cans each

And they begin to sing and praise my name

Before they depart crawling, retarded

I’ll ask them to

 Allocate a land for constructing a health center

They can’t hesitate show me the piece of land

I sketch the premise

Enclose the area with barbwire

No, with bamboo poles

Barbwire is costly

Order excavation of foundation

Election is here

Oops! Sorry

I’m “re-re-elected”

…….to be continued

By: Tears Ayuen

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