Smoothy’s Puppet

By Baba Galleh Jallow

Smoothy sneezed and sneezed again. At the sound of his boss’s sneezing, Goorlam Jigenla came rushing in, sniffing and snorting, saying ‘bless you, bless you’ and complaining of a terrible cold he had just caught. This was a common sight at Seesugi Enterprises. The staff had become so accustomed to the automatic reactions the boss’s every action produced in Mr. Jigenla that they no longer expressed surprise at his antics.

Dr. Halimba Dufidaw, alias Smoothy, the managing director of the famous Seesugi Enterprises, had a whole lot of very loyal staff and servants. There were the likes of Bra Yappa, whose cardinal characteristic was a chronic inability to understand simple English, but who was famous for his persistent expositions in English of the excellent qualities of Dr. Dufidaw. As one of the co-directors of the communications department at Seesugi, Bra Yappa poured out endless pages in praise of the great boss, always with the aid of a dictionary. It did not matter whether his grammar was correct or not. What mattered was that he heaped as many praises on the boss as he possibly could without choking the very paper itself.

And there was Bra Nyaata, whose function was to serve as Master of Ceremonies at the many galas organized in honor of the gallant Smoothy. Bra Nyaata, who had to pause and think of what to say next after every sentence, had grown adept at thinking and saying whatever he thought or knew Smoothy wanted to hear. It did not matter whether what he said made sense or not. So long as Smoothy’s head bopped up and down in appreciation and his face glowed with oily contentment, Bra Nyaata would go right ahead and have his noisy say.

Then there was one of the most famous staff at Seesugi Enterprises, the gallant and flamboyant Bra Netetu. Bra Netetu was only interested in one thing: to be near the seat of power and authority at Seesugi Enterprises and partake of whatever dry crumbs of glory dropped from the big man’s table. His function was to vehemently assent to whatever Smoothy said and vigorously deny whatever anyone else said that was not in line with Smoothy’s personal philosophy of Never Down. It did not matter whether what was said was the truth or a bunch of lies that made you hold your nose and run away. What mattered was whether it was in line with Smoothy’s infallible philosophy of Never Down. If it was, it was true. If not, it was a lie. Case closed and sealed.

But none of these or Smoothy’s many other loyal servants came anywhere close to the level at which Mr. Goorlam Jigenla perched in relation to Smoothy’s personal pleasure. He was so loyal to the boss that he always declared that he loved the boss more than he loved himself. When Smoothy complained of heat, Mr. Jigenla would fly into a frenzy and start sweating profusely. When Smoothy complained of cold, Mr. Jigenla would immediately start shivering so hard that his teeth loudly clattered in his mouth. When Smoothy complained of a mild headache, Mr. Jigenla would start weeping and moaning, holding his head, tears running down his cheeks, asking to be given an overdose of paracetamol. When Smoothy got annoyed about something, Mr. Jigenla would fly into a tantrum and loudly weep and wail and furiously knock the walls and pull his hair. And when Smoothy said he was happy, Mr. Jigenla would laugh so hard that he would cry. He would bend and double over and roll on the floor in blissful glee. And when Smoothy expressed disagreement with someone, Goorlam Jigenla would challenge that person to a debate and call him fool and a useless species that must not live. An eloquent speaker, Mr. Jigenla would loudly extol the undying virtues and endless glories of the great Mr. Smoothy and call the person a useless wisp of air that was trying to fell a giant tree. He would speak in parables and remind the pretentious brat of the rat that thought he was an elephant and thus got himself into mortal trouble. No wonder Mr. Jigenla soon overshadowed all of Smoothy’s loyal servants and won himself the honorable and immortal title of Smoothy’s Chief Puppet. And he was so extremely glad to be given such an honorable title. That was what he lived for.

When they thought of it, some of our common townsfolk loudly wept and blew their noses and drank some water to cool their throats. Then they would sadly shake their heads and wonder what had become of our little town, why the world was so upside down.