Gyant DaMidget’s Greatest Problem


Baba Galleh JallowBy Baba Galleh Jallow

Second Genamin Gyant DaMidget had an unusual problem, a problem that would just not go away, a problem that gnawed at his entrails day in and day out, a problem that stuck to his soul like a giant leech with iron teeth; an all-consuming problem that threatened to blow DaMidget’s head off his shoulders. Yet, it was not a problem he could touch or solve. It was a problem lodged deep in his psyche, a problem that engulfed his being like the very skin of his flesh; a problem born of his choice to be a cruel and heartless man, contrary to the nature that God intended for all human beings: Gyant DaMidget felt small all the time; he felt hollow and empty inside, as if his body was merely a shell full of air. He dreaded thinking of the common phase – windbag – because that is exactly what he felt he was: a windbag. This feeling of emptiness made him feel extremely small and insignificant, in spite of the power he wielded over No-Talk Republic, in spite of the power he wielded over his soldiers and over members of his household and extended business associates. When he sat in Sir Bodyfat Joker’s former throne, he felt like a fly on the back of an elephant, at once taller and smaller than everyone around him.

DaMidget’s inner smallness was a source of great distress for him. He agonized long and hard over the strange feeling and wondered just what he could do to feel big. Thinking that wearing giant boubous could help, he ordered hundreds of meters of expensive fabric and hired a special tailor to make him large flowing robes which he then took to wearing. Rumors in No-Talk Republic had it that DaMidget wore the giant boubous even in the hottest of temperatures to hide a human or monkey skull he always carried on his back. Apparently, the skull was also meant to help him feel at least heavy if not big. It was also supposed to make him invincible and perhaps immortal. One insider made it public that DaMidget’s skull smelt so bad that his wife always ordered him to remove it before coming to bed. It was a mark of DaMidget’s painful insecurity that he would want to jump into bed with the bulging skull strapped to his back.

The smallness problem however, persisted in spite of the vast boubous Gyant DaMidget wore. He still felt as if he was full of wind and could not really bring himself to feel intelligent or creative. He discovered that his mouth, which was unusually large, was also a good asset because it could help him fight the silence inside by making frequent speeches in which he rambled incoherently on about one thing or the other so as to feel sophisticated. While he rambled, there was a small feeling of relevance to him. But once he stopped rambling, it seemed as if his interior merely collapsed like a punctured bike tire. The sounds in his head stopped and the air-like feeling sighed in his head like silence itself. He felt hollow and helpless and wished that he was clutching on to some hard object to convince himself that he was real.

It was this biting need to clutch onto something that led Gyant DaMidget into another of his queer habits – the habit of holding some strange object or the other in both of his hands all the time. In addition to the giant boubous, he now habitually held a monkey tail in one hand and a dead rat in the other. He made believe that these objects were the sources of some mystical power and signified his piousness and piety. This habit grew so ingrained in DaMidget’s psyche that he could not imagine not holding his monkey tail and dead rat, even when he was travelling abroad, a practice that made him the laughing stock of his peers around the world. The stench of the skull on his back and the dead rat in his hand caused quite a nuisance to his peers and all who came within a foot of the insecure Gyant. Sometimes, people pretended to be wiping the sweat from their faces as they repeatedly took their handkerchiefs to their noses in a bid to keep the stench from their noses. Gyant DaMidget, however, was as insensitive as a dry log and never realized that the offensive stench emanating from his person was a source of great inconvenience to everyone around him.

Gyant DaMidget often locked himself up in his room and cried profusely because in spite of the giant boubous he wore, the stinking skull he carried on his back, the monkey tail and dead rat he clutched in his hands, he still felt painfully small and empty inside. He would have been happy to pay millions to anyone who could make that feeling of insignificance and emptiness go away. He could have killed the whole world to stop feeling like a windbag. But alas, alas, Gyant DaMidget was condemned to feel small because he chose to ignore the humanity of his victims and to pretend that he was more than a mere mortal being headed for the grave like everyone else.

But Gyant DaMidget was not one to give up on anything or change his mind about anything even when he knew that he was wrong or that giving up was the right thing to do. In fact his motto was Never Give Up Never Die.  And so as time went on, he chanced upon another idea he thought could help him stop feeling like a fly on elephant back when he sat in his new throne. He had since jettisoned Sir Bodyfat Joker’s throne and now perched on a multi-million dollar throne imported from White Arab Land. One day when the religious elders came to pay their annual respects to him expecting their usual  wads of brand new banknotes, Gyant DaMidget seized the opportunity to suggest something to the effect that he who gives so generously to religious elders deserved some form of title. Of course, the religious elders got the message and immediately conferred upon him the grand title of Kweku Hajju. The news was broadcast on national radio and television that the most respectable religious gurus of the land had recognized the great piety of the great leader and had, in accordance with the teachings of the holy scriptures, conferred upon him the well-deserved title of Kweku Hajju. From now on, anyone pronouncing the leader’s name must call him His Poxillency the Oxygen Kweku Hajju Second Genamin Gyant DaMidget Kola Nut.

For a few days afterwards, Gyant DaMidget basked in the limelight of his new title. Announcers on national radio and television received strict orders from above never to fail to cite the whole string of titles whenever they mentioned His Poxillency’s name on the air. This greatly pleased Gyant DaMidget; but only for a while. After the first few days, the feeling of smallness returned with a vengeance and Gyant DaMidget felt more miserable than ever before. It was then that he got another idea. Since money talks, he now started bribing colleges and universities around the world in the guise of philanthropic gestures. Smelling fresh green from DaMidget, some colleges and universities responded to his new found generosity by conferring upon him the titles of Dorokita and Forobecho. Of course, the colleges and universities knew that Gyant DaMidget was perhaps the most ignorant dude in the whole big wide world. But these were days of realpolitik and it was scratch my back I scratch your back in the world of moneymaking. And so they did not hesitate to give Gyant DaMidget the glowing titles of Dorokita and Forobecho, knowing fully well that the ends justified the means.

The new titles made dragging news on national radio and TV. Announcers took great pains in pronouncing all the great titles anytime they mentioned Gyant DaMidget’s name. And so it became very common to hear them say “His Poxillency the Oxygen, Kweku Hajju Dorokita Forobecho Second Genamin Gyant DaMidget Kola Nut has said that he will never allow the white man to come colonize this country ever again. His Poxillency the Oxygen Kweku Hajju Dorokita Forobecho Second Genamin Gyant DaMidget was speaking at . . . . ” Sycophants and bootlickers merrily sang the titles and loudly brandished them in the public’s face as signs of just how great a leader Gyant DaMidget was. And for a little while, Gyant DaMidget did feel somehow big. But that feeling was short lived because the smallness and emptiness inside were the very essence of his being. They defined him. No amount of titles, no number of skulls, monkey tails and dead rats could make him feel what he was not; he was a natural born windbag who liked to blow hot air and make rambling noises in the guise of so-called speeches that never failed to expose just how small he was. He who denies other people’s humanity deny their own humanity. So it was with Genamin Gyant DaMidget of escaped demons fame.


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