Are you a good puncher Haruna? I can't train you then. Thanks for the kind words.

 

Baba
 


Date: Tue, 10 Nov 2009 17:58:35 -0500
From: [log in to unmask]
Subject: Re: Ground Zero - A Short Story
To: [log in to unmask]


Inspirational Galleh. It gives new meaning to the mantra: Carpe Diem, its yield reflects your desires and anguish. Thanx again Galleh for another installment in value-satire. Haruna. JC, does this look like a fighter??? If it does, I want Galleh as my personal trainer.
 

In a message dated 11/10/2009 12:53:27 P.M. Eastern Standard Time, [log in to unmask] writes:

Ground Zero 
By Baba Galleh Jallow 
Life had never been easy at Topchop Enterprises. The tradition, for those of our common townsfolk who worked there, was always to make do with available crumbs while the big shots at the top of the pyramid enjoyed their creamy fat. So it was no understatement to declare that one big turn deserved another. 
Topchop Enterprises had had a turbulent past and a critical history. In the young days of the famous enterprise, when the proverbial milk still whitened its budding teeth, expectations were that in a couple of generations, all associated with Topchop Enterprises would be happy. Expectations were that Topchop, naturally meant to cater to the needs of all and sundry, would be the golden cow that produced the endless milk. Sadly enough, such lofty expectations proved a far cry from the unpleasant reality that was to characterize the rocky evolution of Topchop Enterprises. Rather than flow or even trickle down to wet the dry tongues of our common townsfolk, the abundant milk of the proverbial golden cow was instead harnessed and funneled upwards to fill and grease the fat cheeks of the top guns above. 
As time moved forward, life at Topchop Enterprises moved backwards. As the top guns got richer, the common townsfolk got poorer. The coffers grew lean and hungry, the accounts sunk deeper into the red, the books and files gathered dust on the musty shelves, and the common townsfolk, suffering from an extended period of lethargy, poverty and intellectual drought, spent their long hot days yawning and dozing on and off while the privileged bigwigs perched at the top of the creamy pyramid grew increasingly fat and lazy, and lost all capacity for positive thought and action. They all suffered from the 'jahaso' syndrome and grew increasingly myopic, paranoid, and confused. 
So when rumors of a takeover started circulating at Topchop Enterprises, many among the holders of the hungry positions grew happy and excited. Surely, if a new management took over business at Topchop Enterprises, the long awaited creamy crumbs would start falling down to the hungry folks below. The creamy milk from the golden cow, long funneled upwards to further pump the already fat bellies of greedy moneybags, would finally start flowing downwards to quench the thirst of the living-dead below. They all hoped and prayed for the imminent new dispensation that would eventually bring them manna from heaven. 
The long-awaited event did finally take place. A group of young entrepreneurs with lots of muscle took over Topchop Enterprises. They sacked the entire top management, and set about a period of what they called "thoughtful" reorientation and reconstruction. They invited ideas from the entire staff body and set up several committees to investigate and report on what went wrong at Topchop Enterprises. It was, they declared to the excited hungry staff and other common townsfolk, the dawn of a brand new era; an era of dynamism and enterprise; an era of general upliftment and the eradication of all forms of anguish and agony at Topchop Enterprises. Even headaches were to be made a thing of the past and all would now realize their lofty dreams of long ago. It was simply going to be sabarry!
Such was the hopeful euphoria raised by the lucrative takeover of Topchop Enterprises. Now headed by the dynamic Mr. Mouthy, who was also called Mr. Dooly, Topchop Enterprises issued statement after statement outlining its famous Vision Lolu Dufidal which was supposed to turn everyone of our common townsfolk into bursting moneybags and turn our streets into golden pavements by the year never come. A self-made businessman, Mr. Mouthy alias Dooly was believed to be endowed with abundant sense and dynamic business skills that were certain to turn Topchop Enterprises into a heaven on earth, a 'primus inter negative pares', first among all the equal businesses in our little town. 
Such, however, was not to be the fate of the unhappy workers of Topchop Enterprises Things actually grew from worse to worst for the hungry workers at Topchop Enterprises. Mr. Mouthy himself, ever the enterprising business dinosaur, soon made giant strides in self- improvement. He now owned countless other businesses and billions upon billions of dollars in foreign accounts. Formerly a thin, lean and hungry character, who suffered from chronic Vitamin C deficiency and malignant Ratatoi, Mr. Mouthy soon grew fat and obese, with rotund cheeks and froggy-eyes almost covered with excess fat from the abundant milk of the golden cow, which continued to be funneled upwards at an even greater rate. So fat did he grow that his face looked like a mirror and he sometimes made funny noses without let or hindrance. 
But for the common hungry staff below, with the exception of a growing number of sycophants, life at Topchop Enterprises remained hard and dry. They wondered when another management would take Topchop Enterprises from the greedy Mr. Mouthy, alias Mr. Dooly. They were convinced that no new manager could possibly be worse than Mouthy. He was simply ground zero.


 


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