Satiricus was anxious to get down to the Back Street Bar. This was his usual disposition on a Saturday evening, but this time there was an extra spring to his steps. After all the stick he’d taken from his buddies about his KFC party, today he’d be able to hold his head up high.
“How do you like my fearless leaders, Nagga Man and Rum Jhaat, solving the crisis in the sugar industry?!” Satiricus burst out, as soon as he took his seat.
“Solved the sugar crisis?” demanded Hari. “What the arse you talking about Sato?”
“Didn’t you read Nagga Man’s column, ‘Sugar and Politricks’, in the Sunday Chronic?” asked Satiricus aggrievedly.
Everyone around the table nodded.
“My leader outlined the plan he came up with, and which Pressie had the unions agree to next Friday,” said Satiricus with a smirk. “What a guy!!”
“Nagga Man mek up da plan?” asked Cappo in disbelief. “Suh who a play politricks?”
“What do you mean?” asked Satiricus truculently. “If it wasn’t for Nagga Man, the half severance woulda never been paid.”
“Budday! Da na no fava; de law seh dem shoulda get dem whole severance,” said Cappo. “Me a talk ‘bout all de jab he seh ‘e guvment fin’ fuh dem suga worka.”
“Yes, Sato,” said Bungi, who had gone and found the Chronic with Nagga Man’s column and was pointing to it. “Read da an’ tell me which suga worka get dem jab!”
Hari read slowly to the table of friends: “2,448 persons received technical training in the fields of graphic design, photography, orchard establishment, leather craft, climate-smart agriculture and book-keeping.”
“I’m not sure,” Satiricus said. “What about the rest?” he said.
Hari obliged: “Some 301 micro-enterprises received grant funding in the amount of US$421,000.”
Satiricus shook his head in disbelief, “No. I don’t think those were for sugar workers.”
“Nagga man t’ink beca’se abee bin fetch cane, abee brain saaf!” said Bungi. “He a de waan wha play palitricks!”
“I give up,” said Satiricus, holding his head. “I coulda been at home!!”
