On a vast fruitful farm in a Southern African nation,
a young boss addresses his long-serving servant whose
several relatives are poor, frustrated, landless and jobless.
The farm worker has raised eyebrows about a pampered,
peevish, ungracious and bigoted group set to live abroad.
“You’re not moneyless and leaderless? You’re stress-free.
(Smiling sarcastically). That’s the sweetness of freedom.
How many years now since attaining independence? Wow.
You can’t join our special group destined for the US. NO!
Take a good look at yourself! You’re not being ‘mistreated’.
Right? You’ve got your brothers here from other African nations
with whom you get along. Solidarity! We’ve our own, too.
Be happy. Is this not what you voted for? Are we in power?”
“But Baas, we live in shaky shacks and violent townships,”
reminds the old man. “Boy, you’ve your black leaders, right?”
