With dictators facing the brunt of people power in North Africa and the Middle East, I thought it timely to consider another, who has been out of the news lately, but who has really changed little since I first wrote this “tribute” to him two years ago.

Dear Mister Mugabe,

The rape of Zimbabwe

Appears to be going quite well:

The rate of inflation

Should soon make your nation

The nadir of Places to Dwell.

Your grasp of selection

As part of Election

Is pleasingly tenuous too:

Your use of attrition

To crush competition

Is clearly the path to pursue.

Your amoral compass

Is causing a rumpus,

(for “rumpus” read “injured and dead”)

The way you don’t fall

Is a beacon to all

Who would ever aspire to have led.

When you look back, one day,

How many could say

That they halved life expectancy too?

Your subjects are blessed,

For they have a lot less

Time to spend on this planet with you.

The hike in bereavement

Is quite an achievement

But what makes your tyranny great

Is the way that your violence

Is greeted with silence

By each of your neighbouring states.

So Mister Mugabe

Your care of Zimbabwe

Commended your name to our Board.

Our esteem is unbroken,

Please accept this small token:

Here’s Pol Pot to present your award.