This smile is my mask

If there is something we politicians can do and do very well is having no scruples. We know how to wear those masks and smile.

My personal assistant taught me that I should paste a smile on my face even when I am being bombarded with unkind words. He told me to smile when I face television cameras. Laugh even at the questions.

I do it. I have done it. It has helped me cross bridges. Throughout my divorces, I made it appear that my ex-wives had problems not me.

Apart from having no scruples, us politicians do not feel guilty. That sets us apart from the ordinary people. Why should I feel guilty when a person dies? Even if it is of my doing? People die. People must die. Who lives forever? Even Jesus died. Not a natural death but on the hands of some people.

Killing is part of the game. Once you kill once, then you can kill again and again. These days I don't do it physically. Others do it for me. An accident here. Another accident there. And then I am asked to speak at the burial.

Most often, we declare the dead national heroes. Guarantee a lifetime of state support to the orphans and the widows.

I also smiled when I almost lost my leadership. It was a tight race between my late friend and secretary general of the party. It was so close. But I know the game. He is gone. I am still here.

He is a hero. Buried there at the Heroes Acre. But dead still. I spoke at his graveside. Told the people how he was a great man. Fearless. And a dedicated cadre. I said the party's democracy would never be the same again. That he believed in the ideals of humanity.

I did not tell the mourners that one of my people – a beautiful lady – had treated his drink. I did not tell the mourners that it was not a heart attack. In any case, my personal doctor carried out the post mortem.

With him, we thought of not removing him by a road accident. It would have been too obvious. Of course, the heart attack, I told the mourners, was caused by pressure of democracy.

I remember it too well: Good people don't live long, I said. God wants all his angels to join him in Heaven. We are poorer without people like this man we are bidding goodbye today.

The mourners roared in agreement. By the look of things, the nation believes me. My people still love me. That is why I love this country. Why we fought for this country. And why we will never let it become a colony again. Not in our lifetime.

My people believe whatever I tell them. I may not be sleeping – anyway, I know it's not only me – but as long as I can stagger out of bed everyday, this country will never be a colony again.

Until today, nobody suspects anything. Of course, the girl and one other spy boss know what happened. They carried out the operation. I was not there. If anything, I will say I did not know anything.

My heart does not skip even. But sleep never comes.