BIG TROUBLE IN OUR LITTLE TOWN

By Baba Galleh Jallow

Our little town was not very much noted for optimum tranquility. Generally, our common townsfolk were kind and peace-loving people and could always be seen kindly munching their cheeks as they strolled around or reflected on some issue of common concern. Once in a while though, some issue of serious contention arose, and then the heat was turned on, as it were, and everyone in our little town was thrown into a flurry of dizzying frenzy.

One such bone of contention arose when our great mayor, the famous Haji Fuuhal, suddenly passed away (RIP). No sooner had the burial rites ended than the very thorny question of who would become our next mayor arose. Now being mayor of our prestigious little town was no cheap affair. As the most prominent bigwig in our little town, our mayor wielded extraordinary power and influence and was looked up to by all and sundry. Thus it was understandable as to why the question of who the next mayor would be raised such immense controversy in our little town.

For one thing, there was no shortage of suitable candidates for the prestigious position in our little town. There were the likes of the great Smoothface Beevy, that erudite scholar of nimble wit and humble gait whose sterling qualities included not only a respectable string of paper qualifications, but also a toothy smile and manly gait that made him the number one favourite of all the prestigious ladies of our little town. The great Mr Beevy was sure qualified to be our mayor and wasted no time in making his intentions known to the town council.

Equally qualified was another erudite scholar in our little town. This was none other than the great orator himself, the outspoken Fastalk Slowy. If there ever was a man with a critical eye in a critical head with a critical mind, it was our famous Fastalk Slowly. Fast to see and fast to say, Mr Slowy was the favourite candidate for those of us who felt that the execution of mayoral duties demanded a complex combination of a fast tongue, a fast eye and a fast mind.

But the controversy did not get really serious until the sudden announcement, one fine day, that none other than the great Braveface Chickenheart himself was interested in running for mayor. His sudden entry hit our common townsfolk like a giant tornado and sent shivers of fright into the spines of the other contenders. The struggle for prominence and dominance in our little town would never be the same again, for our gentle Braveface Chickenheart was no easy guy. He pulled more strings than anyone else did in our little town and was a world-renowned expert in conspiracy theories, a field much needed in the effective execution of mayoral responsibilities. More significantly, Braveface Chickenheart was the distant cousin and close confidante of the late Haji Fuuhal himself. It was even rumoured that Braveface was the choice of the late mayor. But as we had a functional democracy in our little town, the position was open to all who qualified to contest. Soon, the town’s ancestral drum would be beaten, and the campaign proper would begin. Already though, we were all feeling the great heat, which shot up several notches with the sudden entry of the famous Braveface Chickenheart, that great man for all seasons.