You put too much pressure on me. Unlike you, and you know I can't handle it.
I'm on edge. Quit with the superlatives. I handle the normative better.
Thanx anyway for the undue pressure. Take care men. You know for the life of me,
I couldn't figure out why our president personally tours the offices of the
SOS to see if they are keeping good house. I understand how he may feel the
need to protect Gambia's assets but I think Yahya burdens himself inordinately.
I expected that task to fall on the lap of a clerk at the Facilities and
Maintenance division of the Works and Infrastructure SOS. I just don't get it.
Yahya is too big for inventory of facilities. I will discuss this matter with
him when next I speak with him. Anyway, God bless Galleh.
Haroun Masoud. Keep the satires coming. They offer enormous opportunity for
reconnaisance and sobriety. MQDT. Darbo. Al Mutawakkil.
In a message dated 11/2/2007 1:03:16 A.M. Mountain Daylight Time,
[log in to unmask] writes:
The best shortest story I have ever read. Quite a style there Haruna.
Congratualtions!! And thanks for sharing.
Baba
>From: Haruna Darbo <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Gambia and related-issues mailing list
><[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: Re: Animal Farm Reloaded (Part Two)
>Date: Fri, 2 Nov 2007 01:27:24 EDT
>
>
>Galleh, what are you doing up so late? I thought I could sneak in and out
>without notice. Men!
>
>I must say though that I love these satires you share and you have a knack
>for our pleasure. I thank you for sharing. Allow me to share a story with
>you:
>
>He is from Calcutta. Uttam Das.
>Has been all his life.
>Satinder comes to join him
>As she does intermittently
>Only this time she declares its for good.
>
>Satinder shares there was a Tsunami
>In Bombay.
>And Shawkat escaped the Tsunami
>He made for the hills
>his colleagues in the Bombay guild
>All drowned to join us in Calcutta.
>
>Satinder promises to share a story.
>She squats, legs folded
>In the air of a Talube.
>Her flute raised, the maestro hums
>Uttam glanced at me
>the notes had wafted in the monsoons all year
>in the air around Calcutta.
>
>In Calcutta, we make the mould.
>For the folks in Bombay.
>Discouraged, Satinder uncoiled.
>as the adder recoils back in the burlap.
>On Jaaraama.
>
>Easy Baby boy. Haroun Masoud. MQDT. Al Khairawan. Darbo that is!!
>
>In a message dated 11/1/2007 11:01:43 P.M. Mountain Daylight Time,
>[log in to unmask] writes:
>
>Animal Farm Reloaded (Part Two)
>
>By Baba Galleh Jallow
>
>Oh yes, Napoleon the pious pig had become a great goat-lover over the past
>several years. Muriel and other local goats were not very much in favor;
>but
>a new species of goat had surfaced in Animal Farm from other surrounding
>farms, and had been particularly favored by Napoleon, and for good reasons
>too. These goats had exceptionally long beards and had the peculiar custom
>of wearing either oversized gowns or strange animal skins with pieces of
>mirror and cowry shells stitched to them. They profess great spiritual
>knowledge and power and put themselves at the service of the superstitious
>Napoleon. These goats professed an uncanny capacity to see into the future
>and to smell out Napoleon’s actual and potential enemies long before they
>even thought of harming the great pig. Every night, these medicine-goats,
>after a long day of feasting, drinking, and stoking Napoleon’s fat ego,
>would retire to bed with strange objects such as lizard tails, frog
>carcasses, boar teeth, pieces of dry feces, and small animal horns under
>their pillows that would help them scan the distant horizons of the future
>for the great pig. In the morning, they would all meet with Napoleon and
>tell him which animal to be wary of, what sacrifices to offer, on which
>day
>not to venture too far, and a host of other warnings and advices all
>geared
>toward the eternal protection of the great and benevolent pig. They also
>told him that he must personally take control of all local animal
>structures
>because there were some strange rumblings at the local level that might
>cause him some unease.
>
>But whatever they did and whatever powers they possessed, these long-beard
>and strange-clad goats could not help Napoleon against making the lower
>animals so angry that they would fart near his house, sing only
>half-heartedly, poop on his doorstep in the middle of the night, or
>whisper
>vicious things about the pig who thought he was a god. Neither could they
>protect Napoleon against the birds who deliberately shot small balls of
>shit
>at Napoleon’s mansion and sometimes on the back of his grand boubous,
or
>the
>chickens who made it a point every dawn to litter Napoleon’s front and
>backyards with hundreds of droppings. The chickens also made sure that
>they
>dropped a few eggs here and there all over the yards. The appearance of
>eggs
>at Napoleon’s doorstep every morning was quickly proclaimed as another
>sign
>of Napoleon’s esteemed status in the divine scheme of things. The
>droppings
>were of course ignored and surreptitiously removed. “You see,â€
>Squealer the
>Dealer would announce every morning to the traditional assembly of
>animals;
>“Eggs are now falling from the skies to show you that our beloved
leader
>is
>indeed a favorite of the high powers above! So rejoice, O ye wretched
>animals, for ye have been blessed with a miraculous leader!â€
>
>It was one of these long-beard and strange-clad goats who advised Napoleon
>to beware the animals of the red forests and all their talk about animal
>rights and the rule of law. These red animals, this particular goat had
>told
>Napoleon, were a bunch of thieves and liars who were hatching a mammoth
>plot
>to drive him out of animal farm and have him replaced by some lowly animal
>of no consequence who would then be compelled to dance to their red tunes.
>Their description of this lowly animal cost many an innocent animal their
>lives. For whichever animal fit the description of this pious goat was
>made
>to disappear, accused of planning to overthrow Napoleon, or otherwise
>effectively neutralized. This particular long-beard and strange-clad goat
>also told Napoleon that he must befriend the leaders of the animals of the
>brown forests. He must, Napoleon was told, particularly look out for a
>leader whose eyes were squinted because he was one animal who could help
>him
>fight the treacherous animals of the red forests. And so Napoleon had
>picked
>Mr. Squinteyes of dubious fame as his favorite colleague and friend among
>the league of animal leaders. Mr. Squinteyes was a vehement critic of the
>red animals and professed a philosophy that sounded very much like a
>combination of Animalism and Pigism combined. Moreover, Mr. Squinteyes
>ruled
>over a very wealthy forest with lots of milk and apples, Napoleon’s
>favorite
>foods. It was on account of the ceaseless pouring of milk and apple-aid
>into
>Animal Farm that Napoleon had grown so fat that he could hardly raise his
>paws.
>
>That Napoleon, Squealer, Napoleon’s dogs, his black cockerel and all the
>other pigs were greatly enjoying themselves had become clear as daylight
>to
>the lower animals. Napoleon had grown so fat that he could hardly open his
>eyes and spent most of his time sleeping in Jones’ comfortable bed,
>while
>Squealer directed farm affairs. In addition to ‘Animal hero, first
>class’,
>‘Animal hero, second class’, ‘Animal hero, third class’ Animal
>hero all
>classes’ and the Order of the Green Banner, Napoleon created and
>bestowed
>upon himself many other gallant decorations and titles, all of which he
>wore
>on his many public appearances. In addition to his titles of The Great
>Leader Comrade Napoleon and Savior of the Animals, Napoleon now took on
>the
>additional titles of Gallant Benefactor, Grand Master of Wisdom,
>Benevolent
>Guardian of the Lost, and His Excellency And Most Royal Highness Dr.
>Ratahal
>
>Bemutoye of Miracle Tree Fame, Commander of the Faithful and Raiser of the
>Dead. He insisted that on every public appearance, first Squealer and then
>Kokoliko the black cockerel came forward to address him with all his
>gallant
>titles and make mention of his divinity, his heroic deeds and his
>decorations before his hallowed name itself was pronounced to the unworthy
>ears of the lower animals. After the battle of the Windmill, Napoleon had
>also bestowed upon himself the honorable title of Lord Chancellor of the
>Chequered, as a mark of his gallantry and patriotism.
>
>Not even Moses the raven, who never tired of talking about the mysterious
>Sugar Candy Mountain hidden beyond the distant clouds, failed to see that
>Napoleon had become worse than Farmer Jones. Clearly, Farmer Jones did not
>change the rules at every turn to suit his personal needs; Farmer Jones
>did
>not drink so much beer and make so much merry as Napoleon did now-a-days;
>Farmer Jones never claimed divine and miraculous powers; and Farmer Jones,
>in spite of all his vices, did not have all the long-beard and
>strange-clad
>goats of nearby forests flocking to his feet to serve as medicine-goats.
>Like Benjamin, Clover, and Minimus, Moses the raven could not fail to see
>that Napoleon now considered Animal Farm his very own personal property
>and
>the animals nothing less than his personal slaves. They had heard him say
>that he held the title deeds to Animal Farm and all the animals that lived
>within it. Over and above everything else, they had seen him contradict
>all
>the rules in the books and all the promises he had ever made by trading
>with
>humans, sleeping in beds, wearing Jones’ flamboyant tails and ties,
>walking
>on two legs, and wearing colorful ribbons to his tail, among many other
>outrageous extremes. Eventually, they had seen him abolish “Beasts of
>England†the anthem of the anti-Jones rebellion, and change the name
>Animal
>Farm back to its original name, the Manor Farm and then to Nap’s Farm.
>Thus,
>it was from Manor Farm to Manor Farm to Nap’s Farm. The wheel of
fortune
>had
>gone full circle for the lower animals and in spite of themselves, they
>increasingly saw through the gross inconsistencies of Comrade Napoleon and
>his fellow pigs. Happily, Squealer had grown so fat that he was fast
>losing
>his honey-coated voice and could now only croak “Lort Naple is the
>beastâ€,
>a
>mispronouncement for which he once received a hard slap and a sharp rebuke
>from one of Napoleon’s top dogs.
>
>Unhappily however, some of the lesser pigs and animals had absolutely
>mastered the art of puppetry, their sole occupation in the course of time
>being always to be there when Napoleon delivered his flamboyant
>exhortations
>on the virtues of sacrifice and squealing and shrieking and clapping and
>crying ‘poleon! at every word. But there were also many angry animals,
>and
>these expressed their disgust at Napoleon in every imaginable and
>unimaginable manner. Yes, the weak also have their weapons; and when the
>powerful set out to oppress them, they must remember that the weak also
>have
>their weapons. So sang the birds of Animal Farm. No help from goats!
>
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