If you’d never heard of His Majesty’s Government of Nepal, you’ll never hear of it! It met its demise the other day. However, you might just about have seen the name in passing in your junior school Geography lesson.
If you’d never heard of His Majesty’s Government of Nepal, you’ll never hear of it! It met its demise the other day. However, you might just about have seen the name in passing in your junior school Geography lesson.
It is that small enclave sandwiched between the giant countries of China and India, and lying under the uneasy watch of the Himalaya Mountains.
‘Uneasy watch’, because that poor little nation has never known peace since her independence in 1768. It was then that it reverted back to its monarchical rule, a rule that existed uncomfortably with a reluctant bedfellow: the rule of hereditary premiers.
In 1951, the Nepalese monarch ended the rule by hereditary premiers and established his own strong hand. However, in 1990 the clamour for reforms forced that hand and the monarchy was strained to introduce multiparty democracy.
Before that democracy could take its first faltering step, a Pachandra (‘the fierce one’) took to the bush, in 1996, to form an insurgency that made sure that the wretched country was consigned back to its nightmares.
Pachandra (Pushpa Kamal Dahal) and his Maoist insurgents have terrorised the peasants of Nepal since then, until a few weeks ago when general elections handed them a majority win.
You remember also, of course, the miserable news of a crown prince who killed 10 members of the royal family, including the king and his queen, and then took his own life in 2001.
King Gyandera, assuming power after the massacre, dismissed the prime minister and his cabinet the following year, and exercised absolute power.
However, demands for reforms forced him to re-instate a prime minister who, in turn, formed a four-party coalition government in 2004.
This see-saw farce went on thus, with the king dissolving government and declaring a state of emergency in 2005, and imprisoning party leaders.
Again, mass protests organised by a seven-party opposition and the Maoists made him allow parliament to reconvene.
In 2006, a peace accord was signed between government and the Maoists, and an interim constitution was promulgated.
In 2007, the Maoists were allowed to enter parliament. This year, parliamentary elections saw the Maoists clinch a resounding victory.
For now, the monarchy lies in limbo, shod of all its royal largesse. When the ink dries on the final version of the constitution, will the monarchy have a place in the Republic of Nepal?
While waiting to see, let’s pray that this hapless nation finally knows peace. As for King Gyandera, he could as well ‘do a K.K. V’: go and cool his heels in some foreign land and get his ‘Muzehe Benz’ to send yearly missives of good wishes to ‘his subjects’.
I know some kings who don’t even dare enjoy that privilege, and are content to have temporary havens in any willingly hospitable country!
In fact, I have it on authority that one such monarch is voraciously sampling the cleanliness and tranquillity of the most organised city in Africa.
King Sebasinga, the self-same royal that I refer to, is currently holed up in the precincts of Kigali City. Just like the country of Nepal, the unfortunate monarch has never had a peaceful sleep. It has not helped, of course, that most times he is scared crownless by mere mirages!
In the early 1960s, for instance, before his umbilical cord could even dry, Sebasinga (so called as ‘father to all Basinga’) was whisked to the neighbouring country of Tanganyika from his kingdom of Gisaka, because of his ceaseless, infantile shrieks.
It was learnt later that, even as a noble tot, he was scared senseless of the Parmehutu spear-wielders and Belgian helicopters that were said to chop off the heads of the so-called ‘tall tribe’.
Still, before he could settle down for school, in the mid 1960s, he sneaked off to the northern Ugandan town of queerly-named Boroboro, on the strength of rumours that the army was going to take over leadership of his adopted home.
This scenario re-played itself out in Uganda, whereupon the now-teenaged Sebasinga scampered over the borders to Ethiopia in the early 1970s, then to Kenya in the 1980s and yet again to Rwanda here, in the 1990s.
I remember espying his royal presence at the Gatuna border on my way to Kigali, as he did what he called ‘security reconnaissance check’ before venturing into Rwanda!
He did gather the guts in the end, but hurried helter-skelter to South Africa when a rumour circulated that the génocidaires of Rwanda were organising for a forced, armed incursion back into Rwanda, from D.R. Congo.
He must have got wind of the recent foreigner attacks in South Africa even as early as that, for it was the road immediately again for him, bound for Ethiopia for a second time.
The now-aging monarch is here yet again, God knows for how long! Why can’t he take a leaf from some royals on this continent, take a bevy of beauties and settle for a majestic life of peaceful procreation?
If even that sends a shiver down his imperial spine, H.M. Sebasinga could follow the wise example of a certain Majesty from down south who came visiting, some time ago.
Upon encountering Guhonda, the silverback seasoned in matters matrimonial – having a bevy of upward of thirty beauties under his nuptial belt – K.M. III wondered loudly as to what the barrel-chested gorilla preferred as his diet.
"Bamboo shoots,” explained the puzzled, local gorilla tracker. Turning to his aide, K.M. III is said to have exclaimed: "Cut me a bundle. For planting at home!”
Whispers reaching me reveal that the bamboo forest is in bloom, and that the royal harem is set to multiply fourfold, from thirteen!
Contact: ingina2@yahoo.co.uk