VOILA! This week we could have finally cracked the Da Vinci Code.
And I know I am not the only one who has been wondering why Mokhosi Mohapi has remained, for donkey ages, in an acting capacity as Lefa’s chief executive officer.
The Informative this week inadvertently gave us clues to the puzzle — the job is simply too big for him.
Of course the heading was quite revealing: “Mohapi too big for admin”.
There he was, as reported by the paper, sulking like a baby over a broken toy after he was told not to poke his nose into administrative issues during Vodacom Soccer Spectacular matches.
In fact, the paper said he was so “sombre looking” at one match that he “did not want to talk about it”.
Of course, like children do after a little nudging, he talked.
“I was told by my bosses to cease assisting in Vodacom activities, especially in terms of administrative stuff during the game,” Mohapi revealed.
“I am not in a position to say who instructed me but I am not surprised as there have been many other incidents pointing to me being put in this position.”
Scrutator, as inquisitive as ever, checked what “administrative stuff” was there to do during Vodacom Soccer Spectacular matches.
The “administrative stuff” includes providing team sheets and helping distribute free T-shirts courtesy of the sponsor.
So is it any wonder then that Lefa bosses are reluctant to confirm him as substantive CEO?
But wait a minute.
Our football could still do with hyperactive people like Mohapi — of course not as CEOs.
Akere we need people who ensure balls have enough pressure and that corner flags are in place before matches.
I say so because those aspiring to be real CEOs know that their job is not to refuse to speak to the media.
It’s only airheads who believe that by refusing to talk to certain media houses they will be fixing those newspapers.
They, in fact, will be refusing to be accountable to taxpayers who make sure they wake up every morning, bath, have coffee, drive to their office and do nothing to improve our football.
But you have to understand the kind of man we are dealing with if you want to appreciate the crisis that has befallen our football.
Although Mohapi is not entirely to blame for the mess, he has certainly had a hand in it because of his refusal to grow from being a mere clerk into a strategic manager who is capable of implementing policy.
Instead he has busied himself with petty issues like running around the stadium with team sheets.
But wait again.
Mohapi can be very serious if he wants to.
For instance, he must have been dead serious when he threatened to rearrange a reporter’s face for merely writing about his incompetence — something which has become as clear as a goat’s behind.
Then a few weeks ago he became serious again and wrote a notice informing his colleagues not to speak to the Lesotho Times because the paper was writing “rubbish”.
Can you imagine a whole acting chief executive of an organisation funded by taxpayers banning a newspaper that the very same taxpayers rely on for information on how their money is used?
Little wonder he is still acting.
Sooner rather than later Bollyhood and Nollywood will be knocking on his door.
Perhaps Mohapi is a good man after all.
He has not pretended to have grown old enough to take care of the big chores that chief executives should deal with.
Scrutator is looking for ideas.
I’m sorry if you think I’m full of myself, but I’m so used to thinking of sophisticated plans when I want to make money.
But I have since realised that you don’t have to come up with a Machiavellian stratagem to dip your hands into the National Manpower Development Secretariat’s coffers.
So, you see, just give me the daftest idea you can come up with and I will return from Manpower with my pockets brimming with moolah as Americans would say.
Of course the idea doesn’t have to be as complex as proposing to flush toilets or expectorating on behalf of the staff at Manpower, as the infamous department is widely known.
I don’t have to worry about entering complicated contracts.
For the record, just last week the Manpower boss admitted that for the past three years they have been paying millions to middlemen they did not have contracts with.
It’s just saying what service you can provide and, pronto, taxpayers’ money is wired into your account.
How about telling Manpower that you sell air for students to breathe?
Or that you can supply dictionaries once they have expired?
Or that you have a chicken that lays eggs with three yorks each?
Or that you have a machine that bends bananas?
Don’t think too hard, dear reader, because Manpower buys anything from everyone and everywhere.
Ke ikana ka ‘mé oa ka, I will never be poor again thanks to the very generous Manpower!
By the way I should say hearty congratulations to Manpower for staging a very long circus that can easily make it into the Guinness Book of Records.
Incompetence, ineptitude, hopelessness, ineffectiveness, you name it — it’s available in abundance at Manpower.
It’s really a miracle that the department has not collapsed because of the overload.
In any case, that “overload” — having been there for too long — should be rotten by now.
It smells bad.
Now the stink has diffused throughout government corridors.
And I’m sure the pong is so intoxicating and stupefying that even the powers-that-be do not have a clue anymore about how to deal with Manpower.
Those who smoke matekoane call the effect that drug has on passive smokers “crossfire”!
Because if they were not intoxicated by the stench wafting from Manpower, our rulers would have long dispensed with it.
It’s unfortunate that there is no mechanism to measure incompetence.
But as innovative as I am, I would say by now Manpower’s dung has certainly filled Mohale and Katse dams.
And they keep churning out the manure with impunity.
Someone pass me a hankie!