I guess it was just a matter of time.

I guess it was just a matter of time.

But let me hasten to say it does not make me feel good to be the reason for someone to lose their job, regardless of how high up or menial that job is.

As you should know by now, I'm reasonable to a fault, at least that is what I am often told.

But some good came of the ugly political fall-out that happened last week.

Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. I'll give it to you straight: I'm taking about the firing of a deputy minister.

I pity poor Nozizwe Madlala-Routledge. But the manner in which she was bundled out of office, shows that The Man does indeed read my dispatches, something I was beginning to doubt.

You see, a week prior to her facing the guillotine, I wrote how troubled I was about constant safaris and fishing expeditions by government officials under the pretext of looking for investment opportunities for our country.

These opportunities rarely materialise.

They're mostly excuses to take family and friends on shopping trips in the malls of the capitals of the world - Rome, Paris, London.

I have yet to see an official's entourage going to Ghana to explore the possibilities that country's cocoa can have on our economy. No, Accra will not do.

Have you heard of one of our senior cabinet ministers going to some faraway land to study how heavy earthmoving machinery production can benefit you and me? She went, she saw and she came back empty-handed.

So last week The Man bagged his biggest scalp, one of his own, to show he means business.

Oh, I see, I exclaimed as I punched the sky, feeling vindicated. So The Man does read my pieces and does take my advice seriously.

To be honest, I was beginning to think all this English education, high tea and pipe-smoking was of no good because every man or woman of any substance does read me and take my well-thought, rational, intellectual discourses with the seriousness they deserve.

But The Man did come through at last. Not only did he read me, but he took my advice to heart and took firm action.

But damn it! The timing was wrong. Comrade deputy minister was the most exciting politician in the rather dreary crew. She shook and stirred things up and is my favourite politico, despite a double-barrelled surname and the fact that she took one of her kids on a state business trip.

But then again, something bothers me. Before The Man gave the sister her marching orders, there were noises from parties opposing The Man and His Party, calling for heads to roll. And when a bloodied head tumbled from the guillotine, they reacted with horror. Was it not what they were looking for in the first place?

I have seen chameleons. But this.

Call it delusions of grandeur, I don't care. Me and The Man are now like this - conjoined twins.