It is with some bemusement that we interrupt our festive frolicking to make an exceptionally unplanned post. This results from the remarkable headline on the front page of le Mauricien yesterday, describing Dr Munisamy’s complaint to ICAC against certain “VVIPs”. What is most astonishing is the fact that the newspaper has broken ranks with the others to publish this “news”, which in fact was made known to all the media ten days previously.

Somewhat less surprising is the fact that no other newspapers followed suit this morning and so far only Radio Plus has sought an interview with Dr Munisamy. Hence the title of this post. After all, how else can this bizarre behaviour of the so-called “free press” be explained, unless it is in reality the “freemason press”? What is ironic about the general non-publishing of newsworthy press releases from our blog is that it lends credence to Dr Munisamy’s criminal case against the Co-missionary (position) of Police, the Prime Minister’s Orifice and the Three Ass-pair-ants.

Is this the perfect example of an honed gaol? Okay this pun on “own goal” is rather weak since “honed” – meaning “sharpened” – is more appropriate to Bob Marley’s small axe, used to cut down a big tree than a “gaol” – meaning prison. “Honed” could also allude to the guillotine used to decapitate the corrupt elite in the French Revolution. While we do not generally condone the use of capital punishment, it is often appropriate in cases of treason and moreover the guillotine is widely accepted as the most human method of execution. It also makes for a quite gory public spectacle that would surely be a deterrent to potential kleptocrats, would it not?

Bob Marley was the inspiration of our beloved seggae singer Kaya who died in police custody in February 1999 after a rally calling for the legalisation of marijuana, organised by the political party of the treacherous Rama Valayden. Soon after, his compatriot, Berger Agathe, was murdered at point blank range by a bullet fired by a cowardly policeman. This sparked off riots by the Afro-Mauritian community that raged for three days against the symbols of Vaish hegemony, which, incidentally, the recent proposals for proportional representation are designed to firmly entrench. Near the end of it, Prime Minister Navin-chunder Ram-ghoul-ham came on state-owned television to announce that the protestors had “tarnished the island’s reputation” and would therefore be “severely punished” (reference). They have been persecuted by the police, particularly the ADSU, ever since.

After the London riots this year, parallels have been drawn with the Mauritius’ worst ethnic conflict since independence. In the words of the the author of an insightful article in Le Mauricien:

I suspect that that section of the population is still among us – poor, disenfranchised and alienated from many of the core institutions that make up civic society in the country. The malaise that they felt in 1999 has not disappeared in the last decade – it is certain that it is still bubbling away. Indeed, the stories in the Mauritian daily newspapers are vivid proof of that. Pretending that all is well in the society arc-en-ciel is but doing very little to tackle social inclusion. It’s like putting a sticking plaster to stem the flow of blood from a major severed artery.

The young pretender to the crown of King Creole and his head-banging gang of thugs, better known as “Kid Kreol and the Coconuts” have done precious little to improve the lot of the genuine poor during their time in the Ministry of Social Integration. Indeed, the globe-trotting son of Sir Gayton Duval’s estranged wife, preferred to party in the carnival city of Rio de Janeiro, rather than risk being lynched in the slums and ghettos of the disadvantaged, disenchanted and disenfranchised of Mauritius’ shamefully secret, persistent pockets of poverty.

The silent cry of the self-chosen people has not gone unheeded. “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice” was an oft repeated expression of Dr Martin Luther King Jr. Another Doctor Who is a Time Lord and hastening the day of reckoning. A Great Prophet, pbuh, once proclaimed about each corrupter of the youth: “It would be better for him if a millstone were hung around his neck and he were thrown into the sea, than that he would cause one of these little ones to stumble.” To the son of the evil godfather of the nation this fatwa is issued: “You have been tried and found guilty in the Divine Court of Justice. As above, so below.”

Jah Rastafari!

Lyrics:

Why boasteth thyself
Oh, evil men;
Playing smart
And not being clever?
I said, you’re working iniquity
To achieve vanity (if a-so a-so)
But the goodness of Jah, Jah
I-dureth for-I-ver

So if you are the big tree
We are the small axe
Ready to cut you down (well sharp)
To cut you down.

These are the words (oooh ooh ooh, oooh)
Of my Master, keep on tellin’ me (ooh ooh ooh)
No weak heart
Shall prosper
eh! And whosoever diggeth a pit
Shall fall in it, fall in it
And whosoever diggeth a pit
Shall fall in it (… fall in it)

If you are the big tree, let me tell you that
We are the small axe, sharp and ready
Ready to cut you down (well sharp)
To cut you down.

(Ooh ooh ooh, oooh)
(To cut you down)
(Ooh ooh ooh, oooh)
(To cut you down)

These are the words
Of my master, tellin’ me that
No weak heart
Shall prosper.
And whosoever diggeth a pit
Shall fall in it, uh, bury in it
And whosoever diggeth a pit
Shall bury in it, uh (… bury in it)

If you are the big tree,
we are the small axe
ready to cut you down
to cut you down.

If you are the big big tree
we are the small axe
ready to cut you down
to cut you down.

[Note to editors: The term “franc-hoes” is not an abusive reference to the predominantly racist white community in Mauritius, but rather is a full frontal attack on the apron-wearing, trowel-brandishing irregular French “franc-maçons” of the dodgy lodgy known as la Tripe Espérance (find out more here). The adopted symbol of the Hopeless Intestines is the three anchors which should obviously be prefixed with a “w”. Also note that “hoe” is both a garden implement and a homophone (nothing to do with homosexuals) of the US street slang corruption of “whores”.]