So, Gnassingbé the son succeeded Gnassingbe the father, at the death of the latter, on February 5, 2005.
Do not ask whether the country over which the father had reigned and over whom the son reigns (or at least still tries to believe that he reigns) is a kingdom or a republic. You have the answer already, very clear, that is to say the darkest that we can clearly provide you. Do not ask for details about the incredible or rather ubiquitous way in which this succession took place. Ubasic, especially in the sense of the burlesque tragedy of Father Ubu, that is to say with all the amount of corpses that the character created by Alfred Jarry is able to produce. More prosaically in Togo, a lot of blood, corpses, widows, orphans, parents and relatives mourning the Gnassingbé system, a real machine to bruise, grind, hurt, molest, crush, torture ... to slit,
Well, just ask them to introduce themselves, to the Gnassingbe father and son, to this one who is dead and to this one who has succeeded him and who, apparently, is alive, so has eyes, ears, mouth but who, morally and spiritually, is just as dead as this one. They will answer you, the one who died morally and spiritually, before dying physically, and the one who has eyes, ears and mouth is already morally and spiritually dead; POWER ! No, did not you understand? They repeat it to you: POWER. So: name, first name, filiation, nature, substance, totem, profession, religion if you want, only one answer: POWER.
You conclude that if we removed the POWER, these people would be destroyed.
You follow the one who, in appearance, has eyes, ears and mouth, so you see, can hear you and answer your questions.
You ask him: "And the people, where do you put them? Outside, in the street, that is to say outside the loo ... "
He cuts you off, sharp, raising his voice. "Do not speak of power as if you wanted to attribute it to the people. As if there was a link between the power and the people. It looks like a revolutionary slogan, chanted elsewhere. Here, there is POWER only Gnassingbe. The people, if they exist, exist only to allow the Gnassingbe to exercise the POWER. You have the proof ... If you want to ask me questions, ask very simple questions. I am a simple man, me. He already turns his back on you and wants to go away. But you run to catch him, a little panting, because he goes fast, pounding the ground.
"Mr. Power, since so you name yourself ...". He shows signs of feverish impatience and nervousness, because for six months, he has the nerves on edge. He grumbles, "I told you that I am a simple man. It's not enough for you as an answer to all the questions, to all the hubbub, all the clamor that you call demonstrations, growls, discontent, revolt ... all you want? I'm a simple man ... If again you were a journalist of our media customers, Young Africa, for example, with a little money ... "
You retort:" You mean a simpleton, a man with simplistic reasoning, I understand " .
New signs of annoyance on his part that reverberate on his bodyguard, more fierce than ever, who already has the hand on the trigger. You still manage to slip this last question to Mr. Power, aka Mr. Simple Man, simplistic pardon, because of the terror that catches you at the sight of this guard accustomed to the most legendarily atrocious reactions: "And the dialogue? "
He answers you however, so that you will not spread the rumor that Togo is not in a democracy: "Dialogue! Dialogue! What dialogues? In what colors did my dad not? And did not he already have that word in his mouth? And what dialogues have I not already done? Dialogue is like reconciliation, peace, union, solidarity ... These are the ingredients of our ... our ... its ... its ... ". He stutters. You want to help him finish his sentence: "From your political salad".
There, he really gets angry and like an angry man, even a simple man like a baby, he stammers: "From our sacrosanct Gnassingbe church. I told you that power is also our religion, our fetish if you want.
Ironically, you deduce from his answer: "You and the Dialogue, you are one, that is to say that there is dialogue only if Dialogue is a fetish that allows you to be in POWER, that I say, to always be Monsieur POUVOIR.
He makes a face and is actually leaving. And you are looking to interpret his last words. You ask yourself: "For him, does this dialogue have any meaning, if it does not allow him to be comfortably reinstalled in his POWER and never be anything other than Monsieur POUVOIR?
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