Indeed Malanding. Thank you for the reminder of Galleh's notes. I am very
much aware of the perceptions. The same perceptions that brought you to the
conclusion that nature is partly to blame for human predilections. I have been
able to discern that Galleh shares the symptoms of malaise by "orders from
above". It is obvious that there are orders from above in dictatorships. A
further review of the "above" could reveal more than just the notion of Phantom
purveyors of order. Yahya could very well be oblivious to some of the orders
and he could very well be the source of some of the orders, but one thing we
can be certain of is that Yahya DOES have influence on mitigations regardless
of the source of the orders. Yahya must then determine how to process the
affects of those orders for his own sake and for the sake of the victims of those
orders. This idea pre-supposes a lapse of time and intervening events
between the execution of the orders and the dawning of the affects and the lives of
the orders themselves. It will be an enormous enterprise to create a problem
for oneself and labour to devise solutions or mitigations thereof. Sound
minds and bodies are immune to such inurement. Iterative identification if you
will, with a view to yielding value as life on nature's stage goes on.
Malanding, consider that Nature is a grand stage and humans (dictators and
all) are actors on that stage. The existence of the stage is a given. It is
the processes on stage that determine the ware of humans. And they continue to
exist in nature like swans on a lake or a flotilla of barges.
Anyhow, I do recognize the impressions and the extent of their values. I
recommend a book by my friend Ray Anderson: Mid-Course Correction; Toward a
sustainable enterprise: The interface model. Chelsea Green Publishing Co. 1998.
Masoud. Haroun Al mutawakkil. MQDT. Darbo.
In a message dated 10/10/2007 6:37:30 A.M. Mountain Daylight Time,
[log in to unmask] writes:
Haruna and others. Perhaps you may find solace in re-reading this piece
from Baba Galleh Jallow. It may not have all the answers as it will take
a while for us to find the silver bullet for Gambia's current state of
affairs.
I will add that, one of nature's tragedies is human beings cannot
function without a leader, be it a devil or a messiah.
Malanding
-------- Original Message --------
Subject: Conspiracy Theory (All's well that ends well)
Date: Fri, 6 Jul 2007 12:51:42 +0000
From: Baba Galleh Jallow <[log in to unmask]>
Reply-To: The Gambia and related-issues mailing list
<[log in to unmask]>
To: [log in to unmask]
Conspiracy Theory (All's well that ends well)
By Baba Galleh Jallow
Around 10am the next morning, the door to Moses Mijofa's cell creaked open
and a state security agent asked him to please come with me Mr. Mijofa.
Moses was drenched in stale sweat, his face was swollen and his head
throbbed from a very long sleepless night of mosquito bites and the horrible
stench of stale urine mixed with a faint smell of dry feces. The floor of
the tiny, oven-hot cell was dirty and dusty as hell, with dark stains of
what looked like dried blood. There was neither mat nor mattress. He
couldn't bring himself to lie down on that nasty floor. He preferred to sit
up all night, tapping and whacking away at the vicious mosquitoes,
occasionally covering his nose with his sleeve to keep off the horrible
stench, and dozing involuntarily on and off.
The security man escorted him into a small office at the edge of the huge
building covering most of the grounds of state security headquarters. Inside
the small office stood a lone desk behind which sat a small man in a black
felt hat and dark glasses. The small man looked up as Moses entered the room
and motioned for him to sit down. The security agent stood behind him.
"Moses Mijofa," the man behind the desk said, as if he was addressing the
papers before him. "Two things. One, you have been charged with seditious
libel against the state and the people of this country; seditious libel
against His Excellency the president and head of state; conspiracy to commit
treason and treasonable felony against the legally constituted government of
this republic; and intent to destabilize and disrupt the peace and
tranquility of this country. We need you to write a statement explaining why
you should not be considered guilty of these crimes. You must know that
anything you write will be used against you in a court of law.
"Two, after you write your statement, you will be granted self-bail but you
must report to this office every morning at 8am until the date of your
appearance in court. Failure to do so will result in a revocation of your
bail. At the same time, we are holding on to all the documents in your
briefcase - your passport, ID card and everything else in there. So, here is
a pen and the forms for your statement. After you finish writing your
statement, you will sign your bail bond and will be free to go for now. But
you must report back here at 8am tomorrow morning." He looked up at the
security man who had escorted Moses to that office and said, "Vulture, sit
here with Mr. Moses and have him sign the bond before leaving." The small
man got up and walked out. Vulture took his place at the table and Moses
Mijofa started the tedious process of writing his statement. At least he
knew he would be let out shortly and then he would demand an explanation.
Outside the headquarters of the state security service Moses Mijofa hailed a
taxi and headed for the Ministry of National Intelligence. As he came
through the front door the secretary looked up and asked him what he wanted.
'I'm here to see Minister Marrtaat," he said.
"Is the minister expecting you?"
Moses told her he was expected and announced his name. The girl spoke into
the phone and hung up. Almost immediately, the Honorable Minister of
National Intelligence, Mr. Muchukat Marrtaat himself stood at the door,
holding it wide open for Moses Mijofa and hailing him hi and welcome.
"Hello, hello my dear little brother. Welcome, welcome. Come in, come in. I
was expecting you."
Moses walked through the door, the honorable minister's arm wrapped around
his shoulder.
"Sit down, sit down little brother. And I'm so sorry about last night, you
know, the inconvenience and all . . ."
"So you know about last night?" Moses was surprised and stared at Minister
Marrtaat as he walked around the huge desk and slumped into his easy chair.
"Oh yes, oh yes I know about last night. We all know about last night. I was
there at the - what did he call it - oh yes, oh yes, the chat room when the
director was asking you those questions. And you know even His Excellency
was there. Clever chap, clever chap; he was there himself . . ."
"But . . . so . . . what is all this about? I was arrested at the airport,
humiliated and locked up in a stinking cell all night. And you had assured
me that I would be just fine . . ."
"Come on, come on little brother, you are just fine. Everything is just
fine," Minister Marrtaat laughed. "You are a smart boy. We know you a smart
boy and that you will understand. You see, it's all part of His Excellency's
grand design for you. He designed this whole project for you. You are a
lucky chap boy. His Excellency likes you. He said so himself last night."
"What grand design are you talking about Mr. Marrtaat? I was charged with
all manner of crimes this morning and I will be appearing in court. I'm
supposed to report to the state security every morning at 8am."
"Oh yes, oh yes my brother. It's all part of His Excellency's grand design.
You see, let me tell you something. I have a doctorate of philosophy but I
lay my hat at the feet of His Excellency. That young man is a genius little
brother. A genius I tell you. You'll see."
"So what is this grand design you are talking about? I came here for
debriefing and orientation etc and I find myself spending the night in a
stinking cell and being charged with treasonable felony . . ."
"Relax, relax my brother," Minister Marrtaat laughed. "Listen, here is how
it works. As at now, only three people know about your mission here. You,
me, and His Excellency. He will personally supervise your training himself
because you will be reporting directly to him. Not even the boys at state
security know about this. So everything has to look real. You have been
charged, you will appear in court, and your trial will proceed and all the
newspapers will cover your story and all those so-called human rights groups
will make fools of themselves shouting out their sick lungs about the
injustice being done to you. But it's all a show. It's all a big bad show my
boy. His Excellency likes a good show and we all enjoy a good show. So after
your trial is made to drag on for as long as necessary, the judge or
magistrate will receive orders from His Excellency to throw the case out and
you will hop on a plane and fly back to your base in Europe and start your
patriotic work for your country. Does that sound like a good plan my boy? Do
you see His Excellency's point, my boy?"
Moses Mijofa nodded again and again as the ingenuity of the whole plan
struck him with full force. Yes, he would be a hero. He would still be a
hero. He would still act the radical. And he would earn lots of money as a
deep cover personal agent for His Excellency. Not bad, not bad at all.
"Well it all makes sense now, Mr. Marrtaat," he said. "It all makes sense
now. But do I still have to report to the state security every morning at
8am?"
"Oh yes, oh yes for now, for a few days at least. Remember, this is a
top-secret mission. Those boys at state security have no idea what's going
on. I just told the director last night that you should be granted self bail
but that they must hold on to all your papers. His Excellency justified his
presence there last night by feigning great anger at you and saying that he
wanted to be there personally to see you in person at close quarters. They
are in the dark and they must remain in the dark. Everyone must remain in
the dark about this project. But you will be meeting His Excellency himself
in the next few days and getting more specific details of your training
schedule. You will love the man my boy. You will love him. In fact, he has
something for you. There is $5,000 in cash in this envelope and a personal
letter of welcome from His Excellency. So go home, my boy; have a good rest
and I will contact you on this cell phone as soon as His Excellency is ready
to see you. Dies that sound like a plan?"
Moses Mijofa thanked the honorable minister and picked up the bulging
envelope and the cell phone as he stood up.
"Don't worry my boy. Be happy," Minister Muchukat Marrtaat hailed as he
reached across the desk to shake his hand. He headed for the door feeling a
strange mixture of guilt and elation. He was just fine after all. He was
just fine. All's well that ends well, he thought with a smile on his swollen
face.
_________________________________________________________________
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