My MCP friends, colleagues and pals are trying hard to separate individuals from the organization. Sticky-taping the realities of a cruel MCP…
I can not forget, in 1991, at Mzimba Boma. I had just passed my PSLC Exams; off to St Patrick’s Seminary in Rumphi. About a week before departing for school, we had to go to the boma for shopping of some kind. There was one bus to the boma early in the morning and one in the late afternoon back toward our home.
We finished our shopping in time and we were in time for the bus back home. It was a hassle to get your space. As we approached the bus, “the MCP red army” was all around the bus and were demanding a party card for each entrant into the bus. My dad argued that I was young, very young, to belong to a political party. I was 15.
The red army would have none of that sense. They insisted we needed to buy 2 party cards. My dad insisted on a NO. They roughed him up a few times threatening to throw him out. My dad calmed down. He turned to me and said “son, I’ve no money for 2 party cards. So I’ll just buy mine and I’ll leave you here. Whatever happens to you, God knows.” I trembled, I shivered. I melted like a ton of bricks had just unloaded on me. He paid for his card and into the bus, he disappeared. It was real. I started to sob and I cried. After some moments also, I felt a beckon on my shoulder; it was an elderly man, also grappling with the red MCP army, pointing me to the back bus window direction. I saw my dad frantically beckoning on me. I rushed there and he quickly instructed and threw the MCP party card unto me. “Go, go, go, he said. Show them the card and come in. If they ask you, tell them a wellwisher has bought it for you”. It worked without questions. The sight of a party card blinded them. In, I went. On this front, as they say, the rest is history. Those people in red MCP youth league regalia were not as smart after all.
But there is a front that still haunts me so much. As my drama was unfolding, there was a pregnant woman also having the MCP drama of her own. She had a party card, but she didn’t have one for the ” person” in her womb. She only had transport money back and she was insisting to go in and she was rightfully angry. Two of the people in MCP red regalia whisked her away. They literally lifted her away. I never knew, and never will, ever know what happened to her. She was gone. Where,? I DO NOT KNOW. I stand here wishing to know, but, will I ever know?
That was real life under the MCP regime. People saw worse. People lost everything including lives for some.
I find it hard to separate the individuals from the organization when I recall this incident? Or is it these two incidents.?
And about elders being dipped in mud for most flimsy of reasons, I also do recall some, especially during youth weeks.
MCP, new wine in old bottles or old bottles having new wine? Whichever the case the organisation is MCP.
Taken from Isaac Cheke Ziba’s wall