Congratulations, Mauritius! You are about to be upgraded to a ‘normal’ country where individuals are not officially defined by the colour of their skin, their religion or their ethnic baggage. That is no mean feat for a country where the pot of fear of each other and suspicion of anything different has been boiling for decades. Your members of parliament, in their majority, are supporting the bill which will turn you – at least officially albeit temporarily – into a country of Mauritians rather than one of ethnic groups. But this is where the good story ends.

This week’s parliamentary debate has, otherwise, provided no reason for us to be cheerful. It has, on the contrary, brought us face to face with a harsh reality: that some of our MPs are devoid of any discernable talent or aptitude for the jobs they have been parachuted into. It normally takes a long time for them to be found out. The fact that they had to talk on the bill has accelerated the process.

If the national assembly were a classroom, our honourable members would be divided into several classic categories. First, the cheat. This type of student copies his elder brother’s homework and presents it verbatim to the class. Once the presentation starts, there’s no stopping him. He cannot improvise, embark on something else, skip a paragraph or change the wording. You may have identified someone in this category. No matter how many warnings he received from the speaker, who was on his feet several times, the honourable MP just carried on from where he broke off and listed all the irrelevant arguments written on his script, each time triggering another more severe bout of anger.

Then there is the one who wants to impress beyond her competence. This one starts the presentation with a well-rehearsed, out of context speech before jumping on the pre-prepared script. While her eyes are glued to the paper and while she is stammering and trying to pronounce words she does not understand, she also gesticulates to make the speech sound like something spoken rather than read. This category of student is more impressed with the sound of their voice than with the content of what comes out of their mouths. When they go back to their seat, nothing of any significance remains in the minds of the listeners. If the speaker had not kept his cool, he would have triggered hot tears.

Then there is the past glory student. This type of student is intelligent but is so engrossed in his past glory that he misses the opportunity to show it. He spends more time talking about his father – or even grandfather – than driving his point across.

The other category is that of the hopeless student. Appealing to the basest instincts of human beings and stoking up irrational fears, this type tries to convince his classmates of how dangerous the phenomenon under discussion is, and, when his classmates are about to be convinced, he suddenly declares that he will support it.

But my favourite type by far is the sly one. He thinks the topic under discussion is the greatest  thing since sliced bread, that it is the best thing that has happened to this nation and, as everyone prepares to follow him on his path, he turns around and says that he and his companions will be walking on the opposite path but – hold your breath – “under protest”.

I tell you what, I’d much rather these discussions were held behind closed doors and a key decision taken and rammed down our throats. It would have spared us the agony of listening to this unpalatable debate.