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World Cup or World Comedy? Your Choice

Countries some of which your most hardworking Geography teacher probably skipped over while racing through the syllabus are participating in their maiden tournament. Some of these countries don’t even know why they are there in the first place. Forget their soccer pedigree; half the fun is just learning how to pronounce the names without sounding like you’re ordering a complicated sandwich at a Chinese restaurant. Now, I must tread carefully here. Life has a funny way of surprising you — today you’re joking about a country’s name and indiscretions, tomorrow you’re standing in line at their embassy begging for a visa. So, let’s keep this commentary as diplomatic as possible. After all, nobody wants to end up like that high profile FIFA official who discovered the hard way that mocking a president’s hair colour online can result in a swift “Denied Entry” stamp at immigration. Before the first whistle blows, every household must convene an emergency board meeting for all stakeholders. Attendees: Mum (Chairperson of Snacks), Dad (Chief Remote Controller), and Sons (Junior Analysts of Football specialising in shouting at referees, mainly).

Agenda: 1. Control Allocation Strategy – Who gets first half, who gets second half, and what happens if penalties drag on. 2. Snack Supply Chain – Chips, peanuts and beverage distribution to avoid mid match shortages. 3. Noise Management Policy – Decibel limits for goal celebrations, especially if neighbours are not football fans. Admittedly, Item three may be controversial, but without it, the household risks turning into a mini stadium with no soundproofing. And since Zebras isn’t in the tournament there will be goals –plenty of goals. Everybody who has been rooting for Zebras knows the scoreboard operator spends most of the match scrolling TikTok because nothing changes when Zebras are playing.

It is a tragic genetic defect. So us the goal-starved nation will be celebrating everybody’s goals — meaning the noise will be relentless. Without a noise policy, the living room risks becoming louder than the stadium itself. So, the proposal is simple: • Maximum Decibel Limit: Celebrations must not exceed the sound of a blender on “smoothie mode.” • Neighbour Relations Strategy: If the neighbours complain, we’ll invite them over — because nothing diffuses noise complaints like free chips and shared goal celebrations. When this spectacle ends, the stadiums may quiet down, but the living room remains scarred. The remote control unit, once a humble plastic device, now carries the weight of a thousand battles. It would have survived penalty shootouts, extra time nail biters, and the infamous “who changed the channel?” accusations. It would bear the scars: worn out buttons from frantic channel switching, a sticky “volume up” key from spilled beverages and a faint smell of popcorn embedded in its casing. It is no longer just a gadget—it is a symbol of power, unity, and chaos. Families must decide then: does the remote return to normal civilian duty, flipping between cooking shows and cartoons? Or does it remain enshrined, placed on the coffee table like a trophy, reminding everyone of the great battles fought during June and July? How do you tell a device that has just broadcasted the pinnacle of human athletic achievement that its next assignment is a repeat episode of Our Perfect Wedding or a Muvhango omnibus? It’s like asking a retired police commissioner to manage that little traffic circle in Mahalapye.

The biggest lesson here is: treat that remote with respect. It has seen things. It has heard language that would make a combi driver blush especially if its daily shift was at a pub or fan park. Do not just throw it back into the drawer with the spare AAA batteries—it deserves a pension or some sort of severance pay. (For comments, feedback and insults email inkspills1969@gmail.com) *Thulaganyo Jankey is a training consultant who runs his own training consultancy that provides training in BQA- accredited courses. His other services include registering consultancies with BQA and developing training courses. Contact him on 74447920 or email admin@ultimaxtraining.co.bw