Puttin' De Record Straight
From 'The Collected Bulletins Of President Idi Amin' by Alan Coren (March 21, 1973)

IT ME AGAIN! Now, many of you no doubt chuckin' up de windahs at dis moment an' yellin' to de neighbours, "Wow! It are Ammiral of de Fleet Idi Amin Esq. writin' in de famous Punch two weeks running git yo' copy while stocks last!" an' who gonna blame you being excited, ain't too much top-class readin' matter these days now Charles Dickens run out o' steam; but wot you possibly not graspin' is de real motive behind all dis heah creative stuff.

Thing is, it bin strikin' me lately dat de world gittin' a one-sided view of Uganda, partickerly from people such as Philip Short, who goin' round tellin' everybody he de Times correspondent in Uganda, also constantly on de blower to de BBC and Reuters: de man clearly a greedy pig, no doubt filin' stuff for Beano on de side and gen'lly piling up de negotiable tender in fourteen Swiss bank accounts. Up till last Friday, he makin' a damn good screw out of Uganda, and this de main reason why he gittin' a sharp one up de khyber and bein' deported. From now on, anyone wantin' valuable information concernin' me and my place gonna have to contact me personal, cash on de nail, no cheques.

De other reason is on account of dis Short bugger bein' totally unreliable: he find out we got an ex-Home Seckertery in de basement wid his ear nailed to de side-board, an' first thing you know is Short runnin' off at de mouf about de breakdown of law and order instead of typin': "Spot on, Air Marshal Idi Amin, Ph.D., dis are what I call de smack of firm gumment, wot about nailin' his other ear to de floor?" Ain't no use havin' a free press an' no disgustin' censorship if people gonna take advantage of my generosity to start bangin' off a load of pussonal opinion, not to mention failin' to point out where I curin' leprosy, raisin' people from de dead, an' sim'lar, all at rock bottom rates.

Wot journalism comin' to, dat what I want to know? Ain't seen Loppy Lud in Kampala ever.

Pussonally, I reckon Ian Smith got de right idea, ain't no sense jus' deporting dese blighters, all they do is get off at Heathrow an' start whackin' away on de ole microphones at fifty bob a minute, smilin' at de cameras an' lookin' for publishers ready to put loot on de barrelhead for books entitled Wot De Hell Goin' On In Uganda? Ole Smitty ain't lettin' 'em out so easy, soon as he hear someone like dis Peter Niesewand character steppin' outa line, he bungin' 'em in chokey and chuckin' de key down de drain. Dat my plan from now on, an' no mistake!

Me an' Smitty gonna have Africa nicely tied up between us, pretty soon.

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