As usual our conversation had drifted into politics and the ripple effects it was having on the nation. This particular evening, perhaps because of a lawyer in our midst, we had zeroed in on the infamous Section 65.
We were really having a go at it, examining, in our inebriated wisdom, the merits and demerits of the Section. Then out of nowhere, we heard a voice, “Mmmm…”
That drew our attention, as I’m sure it was meant to do.
The man responsible for the pause in our conversation was sitting on his own several stools away from us. He took a long sip from his glass and continued in Yaolised Chichewa, “Bingu is spending sleepless nights because of Section 65.”
He paused and took another long sip, and knowing he still had our full attention, he went on, “But we’re only at Section 65! So what do you think will happen when parliament reaches seventy five? At a hundred I’m sure he’ll have a heart attack.”
We couldn’t help ourselves. We burst into guffaws of uncontrollable laughter. In fact, I nearly chocked.