Anthills of the Savannah - Chinua Achebe [76]
“When your fat civil servants and urban employees of public corporations march on May Day wearing ridiculously undersize T-shirts and school-boy caps”—Laughter—“Yes, and spouting clichés from other people’s histories and struggles, hardly do they realize that in the real context of Africa today they are not the party of the oppressed but of the oppressor.” Applause. “For they are the very comrades who preside over the sabotage of the nation by their unproductivity and fraud, and that way ensure that the benefits of modern life will ever remain outside the dreams of the real victims of exploitation in rural villages.” Mixed noises.
“I hear some of you cry Opposed! I like that! Let me substantiate. I never make charges without substantiating.” A few cries of Fire!
“Indeed I will fire! Let’s take the Electricity Corporation of Kangan as one example out of many. What do we see? Chaotic billing procedures deliberately done to cover their massive fraud; illegal connections carried out or condoned by their own staff; theft of meters and a host of other petty and serious crimes including, if you please, the readiness at the end of the day to burn down the entire Accounts and Audit Departments if an inquiry should ever be mooted…” Loud laughter. “This is not funny you know…” Don’t mind them! said a loud-voiced young man on the front row, frowning severely at his ticklish neighbours. “To blame all these things on imperialism and international capitalism as our modish radicals want us to do is, in my view, sheer cant and humbug… It is like going out to arrest the village blacksmith every time a man hacks his fellow to death.” Loud laughter and applause, catching even the severe young man off his guard. “Shall I go on? No! I will say simply that these people are not workers by any stretch of the imagination. They are parasites, I tell you. And I will not agree to hand over my affairs to a democratic dictatorship of parasites. Never!… Now what about students? I should really be very careful here as I am quite anxious to get home safely tonight.” Explosion of laughter. “However, truth will out! I regret to say that students are in my humble opinion the cream of parasites.” Redoubled laughter. “The other day, did not students on National Service raze to the ground a new maternity block built by peasants? Why? They were protesting against their posting to a remote rural station without electricity and running water. Did you not read about it?” The laughter had died all of a sudden. “Perhaps someone can show me one single issue in this country in which students as a class have risen above the low, very low, national level. Tribalism? Religious extremism? Even electoral merchandising. Do you not buy and sell votes, intimidate and kidnap your opponents just as the politicians used to do?” The applause was beginning to revive now, albeit far less robustly. “Are you, as you should be, more competent than those of our countrymen and women not nearly as lucky as yourselves on whom we have squandered our meagre educational resources? It took an hour to start this lecture because a microphone could not be found… I walked up to this dais exploding groundnut shells under my feet all the way. So what are we talking about? Do you not form tribal pressure groups to secure lower admission requirements instead of striving to equal or excel any student from anywhere? Yes, you prefer academic tariff walls behind which you can potter around in mediocrity. And you are asking me to agree to hand over my life to a democratic dictatorship of mediocrity? No way!… Now, don’t misunderstand me. I have no desire to belittle your role in putting this nation finally on the road to self-redemption.