After The Elections, The Britannic Prime Minister Calls An African Country Called “Z”

By Milton Allimadi

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[A Very Short Play In One Act. An Entirely Work Of “Fiction”]

The Call Came Through. It had taken a bit longer than the President-In-Waiting had hoped. But here it was, finally.
Now they would deal with the nasty Old Man once and for all. He will never steal elections again. Idiot! Rumors of his imminent death had come and gone. Year, after year, after year. He just keeps waking up. 

He had refused to act like an Old Man. He had been sitting on the same chair, which he too wanted, for 30 years now. This would be the last time. He was sure of that. His friends overseas would not stand for it. They promised to help him get the chair from the Old Man.

He sat down on his comfortable new chair in his study and he motioned for all his aides to leave the room, except for Tippu-Tip, his Principle Private Secretary. The man who knew all the secrets. Then he cleared his voice and took the call.

The familiar voice of his overseas friend was so re-assuring. He had been very annoyed by these so-called “Observers” from the African Union and SADC telling him to accept the results. Thank God the whole world always accepted the words of White people more than the words of mere Black people.

The Old Man had barred White observers. Imagine that! How dare he!? Why who would run the world without White people?

Morgan, talking into the phone: “David, David, my brother! He has done it again. The election thief! I think we must teach him a lesson this time for good. The sanctions have not worked. Elections have not worked. We must move to Plan B.”

David: “Well Old chap. First of all, how are you out there Old chap? Jolly well? Jolly well?

Morgan: “Jolly well indeed my brother. Even more Jolly if we remove this cancer on ‘Z.’  I think we must act quickly while things are still hot. The Americans are in an aggressive mood. They are restoring democracy in Egypt by force. We need something like that in ‘Z.’ I am sure our brothers in Botswana will help. We just need some British commandos. I know my people. The old man’s soldiers will run when they see White commandos (Laughing, loudly). How does this plan sound?

[There is silence on the other end of the line]

Morgan: David, my dear chap are you there?

David: Oh, yes, old chap, I’m here, jolly well, jolly well.

Morgan: Okay so what are we going to do about this cancer on ‘Z.’ The cancer of 30 years. He is making you big countries like Britain and even America look foolish. What are we going to do this time?

David: Well, Morgan……that’s what we need to discuss.

Morgan: I am at your service. I adore and respect Britain and her Royal Majestic Highness the Queen. [He smiled widely when he said the word ‘Queen.’] If you were to tell me when I was a boy that I would one day grow up and even shake the hand of the queen herself, or to have her Majesty’s Britannic Prime Minister like you to be telephoning me, I would even say ‘you must have your head examined.’ [He laughs again delightedly]. What is our plan?

David: Morgan, old chap, we are gonna have to do things a little differently this time.

Morgan: Yes! I agree Britannic Prime Minister!

David: Please, Morgan! David will do just fine. Now listen, things are going to change a little.

Morgan: Yes, I agree! Plan B is the only solution. [He was glad that Her Majesty’s Britannic Prime Minister was thinking along those same lines].

David: Now mind you, you will still keep your retainer okay? Her Majesty’s Government never abandons loyal supporters.

[There was silence from Morgan. The Britannic Prime Minister must have had a slip of the tongue. What did he mean by ‘Still’? Were they going to just give him a huge lump-sum?]

Morgan: Did you say ‘Still’ David? Old chap?

David: Why yes, of course Old chap. You will never ever want for money.

[Morgan was now a bit confused. Why was this fellow talking about money and not about how to remove the Old Man? Perhaps he meant money to bribe a few Generals so they could take care of business?]

Morgan: You mean money for officers? [He whispered into the phone when he said ‘officers.’] It will have to be a lot. They made a fortune in Congo.

David: No Morgan, I meant money for you. I’m afraid we’ve decided to try a new approach with the Old Man. But you will always be taken care of.

[Morgan somehow did not like the tone of David’s voice. There was a sort of finality in his voice. When he said ‘we’ve decided..’  he could sense that he, Morgan, was not part of the ‘we’ve decided’]

Morgan: David, David, David…..is something wrong, old chap? We are almost there you know. The Old Man just needs a little extra push.

David [Raising his voice for the first time]: Extra push!? Morgan her Majesty’s government has been at this since 1980 and the bastard, excuse my language, I mean the Old Man as you call him, is still there and he’s now 89 years old; who would have thought!? Do you know how many fortunes were lost all these years? For all we know he could be there for two more Presidential terms! How long did his father live anyway? I thought your sources in ‘Z’ Intelligence Services told you he would never return alive when he went on that Hawaii vacation. It turns out it was a real vacation after all, eh?

Morgan [He is quiet for a few seconds. He sees that it’s all slipping away. All these years of hard work. Risking his reputation. At one point he had even said he would take the farms away and return it to the people the old man had chased out of the country. He had never been spoken to in such sharp language by any of the Britannic Prime Ministers. Not Tony. Not Gordon. And certainly, not even David, until today]

Morgan: David see what the Old Man is doing to us? We are on the same team.

David: And what team is that?

[Morgan is silent]

Morgan [After pause]: What about me?

[There is no response from David]

Morgan [In a hopeful, almost desperate tone]: Old chap?

David: For Chrissake cut out the Old chap mumbo-jumbo for a minute. A decision has been taken. We can’t afford to lose any more mining and farming and construction deals to the Chinese and the Indians and Brazilians. I can tell you the Americans are on the same page. We are going to have to work with the Old Man, no matter how much we detest him. We have a nation to take care of. Families to feed and clothe. British families. As I said, you will not want for money.

Morgan [He can barely believe what he is hearing]: David what are you saying? We have been fighting this cancer together for all these years. Why surrender now when we have the Old Man trembling —

David: Trembling!? The Old Man just won by 61% and you did much poorly than last time. I’m afraid this was your last stand….

Morgan: David, but after the results were announced Britain said the elections were not credible. Even the Americans said the same thing….

David: Morgan, for Chrissake, after fighting him for 30 years we are not going to just turn around and say ‘yes he won the damn elections fair and square!’ We have to ease out of the picture…..

Morgan: You, or me, ease out?

[There was a long pause with no response from David]

Morgan: But David you said you would always be with me. I thought I had your Britannic words. We —

David [Interrupting]: No, Morgan, from now on it’s ‘you…’

[Suddenly Morgan feels a very strange sensation. He begins to laugh. Then he starts laughing uncontrollably. Tippu-Tip looks worried and he thinks his boss it beginning to lose his mind].

David [In a concerned tone]: Are you okay Morgan? What do you find that is so funny?

[Morgan does not answer. Just the other day, a lovely young lady had barged into his office and accused him of abandoning her. He had been too busy. What with the election up coming, he had told his aides to show her out the backdoor. He told her he would contact her after the election. Now, suddenly, for some reason, listening to the Britannic Prime Minister, he knew a little bit how that girl must have felt. David was giving it to him].

Morgan: David, Old Chap?

[No response]

Morgan: Are you there Old Chap? David? Old Chap? David? Old Chap? David? Hello? Hello? Hello?

[Then Morgan heard the door click. He turned around to see. Tipu-Tip had just walked out of the room. Where was everyone going?]

In a nearby resplendent mansion called State House, a thin dark-complected hand picked up the phone which had been brought into the room by an aide.

The owner of the hand speaks in elegant English into the phone: Hello?

David: His Excellency the President?

The Old Man: I have been waiting for this call for 30 years. I accept your unconditional surrender…..