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A contract, what is that? We do not have that where I come from.

Well, it is an agreement…more or less. See, everything is a contract. Conversation is an oral contract, hence the ‘he said -she said’ tiff and tough that most humans have when rumours are spread. We always have to refer back to the ‘loud mouth who could not shut it’ contract. A bus ticket is a contract. All receipts are contracts unless the Shah Man writes that all goods once sold are not returnable. Returnable can be returned, like you. You can be returned. You are returnable. Non returnable cannot be returned even if the plastic water jug has a round bottom instead of the flat bottom on the picture on the box that it came in.

What use is a round bottom water jug? The water will spill. It has to be flat. That should be returnable not non returnable.

See, Shah Man has rules. You cannot get the jug out of its precious package until you’ve bought it. But you trust the picture on the box. It shows a flat bottom. What is on the box is what is in the box. At least that is what is expected.

An agreement. A bus ticket. A returnable receipt.

Sometimes the receipt can be non refundable. Not always non returnable.

An agreement. A bus ticket…

And? Go on, complete the list.

A returnable receipt. A refundable receipt. Non returnable receipts and non refundable receipts are not contracts.

No.

But you said all receipts are contracts on the sixth sentence of your  first non italicized paragraph, didn’t you?

Non italicised. Kill the 'z' in your non italicizied and replace it with an 's'.

Okay, take two. But you said all receipts are contracts on the sixth sentence of your  first non italicised paragraph, didn’t you?

 Oh.

You did.

Bury  that. There is another contract, a silly one that controls everything for some big-big-big-big-very big- oh so very big people.

Tell me about it

It was proposed and most of the ruralyans and urbanyans voted ‘yes’ for it. Now some of us like to call the aftermath, the New Constitutional Dispensation, three words too many for the morning after a document that carries itself adequately in one word; the constitution. You know, if you sit on an arrow for the split of a second, before your ass is perforated and really think about it, using ‘new’ makes it seem like the country is a spoilt little Aryan boy who howled and puffed for a new box of Lego bricks and like the boy, we dismantle, arrange and then dismantle the pieces into whatever form we please.

What is this thing?

The Aryan thingum person thing?

No, not that thing. The other one. The constitution.

The constitution is in fact a binding social contract between we the (very many) people and they (the very few people) that govern us. This contract has a number of acceptable terms, one of then requiring both parties to give Ceaser his bag of gold.

Who is this Ceaser?

A dead man

And the bag of gold?

The governed man does perform his part of the contract and everyday, month and year he puts his pennies in a bag and drops the same bag at the tax collector’s feet. He then uses the little that is left after remitting to feed his family. Sometimes it is so little that when he goes to the shop to buy a pack of maize flour, the price tag shocks him into buying a Kshs. 48 packet of milk instead. That way the baby will feed and the next day he will use the Kshs 100 left in his pocket to go and earn another Kshs. 48 for the baby’s milk. His wife will not eat.  Neither will he unless they inconvenience the next tax paying relativeyan or decide to have a tab at the shop. The latter option means perpetual debt and the tax paying shopkeeper will never see the day when the tab is paid in full instead of in insignificant installments.

I am slowly understanding. Make it faster for me.

The other biting party to the contract sees what the hand that feeds it is doing but the famous monkey psychology works in reverse here. The monkey does see the man throwing peanuts up the tree but the monkey refuses to throw the diamonds down the tree. Why? Because he is special and he, his family and friends are something similar to an endangered species. If he sacrifices some diamonds, his family will lack bananas to eat and water to drink. He will also not be able to pay the installments of what he owes the money lending, Sherlock Chimpanzee Ltd. Sherlock Chimpanzee Ltd is an establishment that deals in mistresses and master dong boys merchandise.

Mistresses and master dong boys merchandise?

Apartments, holidays and cars the size of a circle made by five kindergaten children, Fuck Me shoes and loafers plus migraine coloured clothes.

Colored?

No, coloured...with a 'u'.

Okay, noted. There is a disparity in there...monkey or  two.

Yes, you guessed right, his responsibilities are hardly similar to those of the other party but the monkey believes that the moment he pays Ceaser, his dignity, fundamental freedoms and rights will be infringed. So, the monkey will not 'technically' throw anything down the tree.

What can the other party do to fix the monkey in a good spot?

Cut down the trees.

Return me. You found me somewhere. Take me back.

Alright.

Linda Musita © 2012

 Note: I had to. I had to write some prose. Copyright terms and conditions apply, mess and I kill you with a bucket of water and a lot of toothpaste. Yes.