Blood Gold in the Congo

by Peter Ralph

  There were a few random shots and then joyous chanting: “Muamba, Muamba, Muamba.”

  “You saved my life,” Joseph said, grasping Leon’s hand.

  “He saved both our lives,” Leon said, grinning at the corporal. “You’re a brave young man.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help, Mr. President?” the corporal asked.

  “Yes,” Joseph said. “Come with us to the palace.”

  Joseph and Leon sat in the back of a Jeep crawling along the teeming road to Kinshasa. Thousands followed in cars and trucks, firing guns into the air. The joyous crowd sang, drank, and chanted. Kinshasa’s streets were bursting at the seams, and a crowd of more than two hundred thousand pressed up against the tottering palace gates. Heavily armed Republican Guards behind the gates, knowing they would eventually collapse, couldn’t conceal their fear. Finally, the Jeep made it to the entrance, and Leon leaped out and shouted, “Open the gates for President Joseph Muamba.”

  The crowd broke out into raucous cheering, and the chanting intensified.

  “Nothing will happen to you,” Leon yelled. “We know you think you are protecting the president, but Mr. Bodho’s been deposed. We have a new president.”

  As Leon was talking, the gates gave way. Joseph climbed on the bonnet of the Jeep and held his arms up. “Stop,” he shouted. “We want no more bloodshed. No more lives lost.” He then turned to the guards. “I am your president. I am coming in with fifty of my men. Please, for your sake, do not attempt to stop us.”

  “You heard the president!” Leon shouted. “Lower your weapons.”

  Joseph put his hand on Corporal Bilenga’s shoulder and said, “Secure the gates after we have entered. The crowd knows you are with me, so it shouldn’t be a problem. Try to avoid violence.”

  “Yes, Mr. President.”

  Guards at the entrance to the palace lowered their rifles as the convoy bearing Joseph and his freedom fighters came to an abrupt halt. Likewise, the guards at the doors to the presidential chamber stood aside when Joseph and Leon marched through the door with half a dozen of their men. Bodho was sitting by himself. He looked dazed. “I should have never signed those adoption papers seventeen years ago.”

  “But you did,” Joseph replied. “Where are General Gizenga and Colonel Donatien?”

  “The fools who let you escape from court? I don’t know. I don’t care. You were so lucky to get out of the country.”

  “They won’t get far.”

  “So lucky. So lucky,” Bodho muttered.

  “It was destiny.”

  “Are you going to kill me?”

  “My first official act as president will be to abolish capital punishment. You’re not going to hang, but you might spend the rest of your life in a cell. That will be up to the courts to decide.”

  “What?” Leon said. “They’re murderers. They killed thousands. You can’t abolish the death penalty.”

  Joseph held his hands up. “I understand your anger, Leon, but I have my reasons. Trust me.”

  “Yes, Mr. President.”

  “Mr. President,” Bodho scoffed. “He is not the president. He is the leader of a rabble. No one has elected him.”

  “You’re right. That is why I will hold elections within nine months. The people will choose their president, but in the meantime, I will fill the role of caretaker president.”

  “The governments of countries who have investments here will be furious. You’ll have another fight on your hands before you know it.”

  “Without those emails going public, you might have been right. However, the world knows you and the others stole from the poor who you were meant to be helping. They want to see you brought to justice. No one is coming to your rescue, and you’re going to return all those monies you misappropriated.”

  Bodho smiled. “If you let me go and leave me with $100 million, I’ll return the rest.”

  “Forget it,” Joseph replied. “If you return all the stolen funds, I’ll ask the Justice Department to go easy on you in court. You might get your sentence reduced from life to fifteen years.”

  “Fifteen years?” Bodho gasped. “I’ll be dead before then. I can’t go to prison. I’ll get the money transferred back here. I promise.”

  “You’re a liar. You have numerous overseas bank accounts, and it would take a magician to find them. But we have all the time in the world. While you are rotting in prison, I’ll have investigators going through banks’ and companies’ records. When we find them, we’ll inform the tax haven banks that the funds in the accounts are the property of the Democratic Republic of the Congo. They will return them, or we will confiscate any assets they have here. You would be wise to accept my offer and come clean.”

  One of Joseph’s men touched him on the arm and said, “Mr. President, the man who was the boss of the New Dawn mines is in the cells.”

  “Marc Boucher!” Joseph exclaimed, a huge smile on his face. “What a bonus. Throw this one in with him.”

  “No, no,” Bodho shouted, “I’ll tell you where the money is. We can do a deal.”

  “Take him away,” Joseph said.

  “What would you like me to do, Mr. President?” Leon asked.

  “Round up Gizenga, Donatien, and the others, and throw them in the cells. Then come and see me.”

  “Yes, Mr. President. I thought you’d be pleased to know that Yannick will be here this afternoon, and Maya is flying in from Kilwa. She will be here this evening.”

  “Good, we’ll have a celebratory dinner.”

  CHAPTER 57

  ..................

  JOSEPH CALLED FRANK, MICHELLE, AND Moise to tell them he was safe and well and was now caretaker president of the Democratic Republic of the Congo. They were happy and relieved, but it didn’t stop Frank from calling him a danged fool. “I love you, Son,” he said.

  “We all do,” Michelle said. “Don’t ever do anything so dangerous or stupid again.”

  “There was no danger, Mom.”

  “I miss you, Joseph,” Moise said. “When am I going to see you?”

  “Soon, little man, soon.”

  Midafternoon, Joseph was being taken on a tour of the palace. He had never realized the enormity of it and resolved to move the Justice Department from its pokey offices into the palace. Then he heard cheering and clapping and turned to see Yannick. As they embraced, Yannick said, “It’s good to see you’re still in one piece, Mr. President. I heard it was a close call.”

  “Oh, no! Not you with the ‘Mr. President’ too. You will soon be leading the army. Would you like me to call you General?”

  “No.” Yannick laughed.

  “Seriously, though, without you, this would never have happened. You were magnificent, my friend.”

  “So were you, Joseph. So were you.”

  Just after five o’clock, Joseph and Yannick sat in the back of a four-wheel-drive surrounded by freedom fighters riding police motorcycles. The streets were festive, and when the crowds saw Joseph, the chanting started anew. “They love you,” Yannick said.

  “Life can be unfair. It is your name that they should be chanting.”

  “I’m not in the least concerned. You’re going to be living in a fishbowl for years to come. I could never cope.”

  “No, I won’t,” Joseph replied.

  “What?”

  “I’ll explain over dinner. What time did you say Maya’s flight is landing?”

  “Six o’clock.”

  Joseph tapped the driver on the arm. “I know it’s difficult with the crowds, but we have to be at the airport by − ”

  “I heard, Mr. President. I’ll get you there on time,” the driver replied, stomping on the accelerator.

  The motorcade drove onto the tarmac, and Joseph and Yannick got out. A few minutes later a small jet landed two hundred yards away, and Maya made her way down the stairs. Joseph loped across the tarmac to greet her, and as they kissed, she started laughing. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “T
hat was funny,” she said. “You had at least a dozen men running behind you. I thought they were going to attack me.”

  Joseph turned around to see a group of smiling faces staring at him. “I’m never going to get used to this.”

  “Oh, I nearly forgot,” Maya said curtsying. “Hello, Mr. President. Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “If we weren’t in public, I’d put you over my knee. On reflection, I can do anything. I’m the president.”

  Maya laughed. “You wouldn’t.”

  “No, I wouldn’t,” Joseph said, as Yannick joined them and embraced Maya. “Let’s get going. Leon is joining us for dinner tonight.”

  “I thought it would be just us three.” Yannick frowned.

  “I’m sorry,” Joseph said, “but I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.”

  Dinner was served in a small room three doors from the kitchen. “This is the only room in the palace with a round table,” Joseph said, “and I didn’t want to eat in the great hall. Leon, did you find Gizenga and Donatien?”

  “Yes. We threw them in the same cell as Bodho and Boucher. They’re squabbling like two-year-olds. I think that for the first time, they’re not scared of Bodho, and they’re giving him hell.”

  “Good. We have much to get through tonight.”

  “Before we start, a toast,” Leon replied, “to a new Congo.”

  “To a new and honest Congo,” Joseph said, clinking glasses. “I have told the kitchen not to serve our meals for an hour. After we get the politics out of the way, we can enjoy dinner. Leon, I want you to relocate the Justice Department to the palace as quickly as you can. And do you remember the deputy prosecutor?”

  “The one who was too scared to ask questions after Yuma Lidy was beaten up?”

  “Yes. He will head the Justice Department.”

  “What? Why? He’s a coward.”

  “He’s honest, and he’s not a coward. He has a wife and family, and they were under threat. Anyhow, being scared does not make you a coward. I was petrified when the barrel of that gun was resting on the back of my head today. Are you telling me you weren’t scared at the airport, Leon?”

  “A little,” the big man said.

  “Rubbish! You were as scared as I was. The most courageous warrior in the land admits to being scared. Tell him, Yannick.”

  Yannick glowed with pleasure at the compliment his friend had just paid him. “I’m always scared,” he said, “but I force myself to fight through the fear.”

  “And therein lies the definition of courage,” Joseph said. “Make the appointment tomorrow, Leon. Oh, and abolish capital punishment. I want it promulgated this week.”

  “Hold on,” Leon said. “I have no authority. I am nothing.”

  “No authority?” Joseph scoffed. “You’re my vice president.”

  Yannick looked shocked but not as shocked as Leon. Maya smiled like the cat who’d swallowed the canary. “What are you talking about?” Leon asked.

  “You’re ex-CIA, and you are honest, love the Congo, love the people, speak six languages, have two degrees, and, best of all, have a foghorn voice that terrifies everyone. You’re perfect.”

  “It’s something I’ve never considered. I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything,” Joseph said. “In nine months’ time I’d like you to run for the office of president.”

  “Wha-what di-did you just say?”

  “You heard me.”

  “But what are you going to do? The people love you. They don’t know me. They’ll never vote for me.”

  “They mightn’t now, but they will in nine months, and if I vote for you, so will they.”

  “My God. I don’t know what to say. I will not let you down, Joseph. There is so much to do, so much to change,” Leon said. “I promise I will make the Congo a better place for everyone, but why don’t you want the presidency?”

  “Yes, why?” asked a stunned Yannick. “The people love you, Joseph.”

  “We want to lead everyday lives,” Maya said. “We don’t want to be surrounded by bodyguards, twenty-four hours a day. We want to add to our family, and I want to practice medicine at Kinshasa Mercy Hospital.”

  “A white picket fence,” Leon said.

  “Yes,” Maya agreed.

  “What about me? I thought I’d be your right-hand man, Joseph, just like old times,” Yannick said.

  “You will head up the army, and yes, you will be the president’s right hand, but I will not be the president forever. You are a great hero, Yannick, and the people know it.”

  “If that is what you wish,” Yannick said, resting his hand on Joseph’s forearm.

  Joseph glanced at Maya before saying, “Yannick, I have a favor to ask. There was an incredibly brave young soldier at the airport today. Leon and I would not be here if it were not for him. His name is Corporal Bilenga. Could you take him under your wing? He reminds me of a younger you.”

  Maya smiled her approval. “I’m hungry,” she said. “Have we nearly finished with politics?”

  “Nearly,” Joseph said, “bear with me a little longer. Because of the military court verdict, we are unable to charge Marc Boucher with anything.”

  “You want to let him go?” Leon asked. “I don’t believe it.”

  “Mr. Vice President, you need to be more circumspect with your responses,” Joseph laughed. “I want you to instruct the new head of the Justice Department to contact the South Africans and ask them to refile their application for his extradition.”

  Maya grinned. “It’s so good to hear you laugh, Mr. President.”

  “Caretaker president, and only for nine months,” Joseph said.

  “You’re going to leave a big hole,” Leon said.

  “With your permission, I’d like to stay on in an unofficial role for a further two years.”

  “Doing what?” Yannick asked.

  “I’d like to oversee the Justice and Taxation Departments.’”

  Leon understood immediately. “You’re going to go after all the foreign banks and companies that haven’t been paying taxes and have been underpaying their workers.”

  “That, and recovering the bribes and kickbacks paid to the army officers and our politicians.”

  “What if the banks won’t cooperate?” Maya asked.

  “I’ll cancel their banking licenses and the licenses of any bank that acted as an intermediary. There’s a pecking order with the banks. If I close down operations of a large bank that was used as a conduit by a smaller, tax haven bank, the larger bank will soon bring the smaller one to account.”

  “Are you going to charge Gert Botha and the Afrikaner supervisors?” Yannick asked.

  “Yes. The maltreatment at New Dawn must have occurred at the other mines too. We will bring all those responsible before the courts.”

  “We have much to do,” Yannick said.

  “Yes, and Maya is going to oversee our health system. She will remove the barriers to our young people studying medicine. She also told me that once I’ve recovered the stolen funds, she’s going to build new hospitals in the regional cities,” Joseph said. “Without Maya, none of us would be here today.”

  “A toast to Maya,” Leon said, topping up the glasses.

  “Yes, a toast to Maya,” Joseph said, “and then I think we can eat.”

  EPILOGUE

  ..................

  SEVEN DAYS HAD ELAPSED SINCE the coup, and Joseph was warming to his new role. He knew Sir Richard would call, and when he did, he was angry. “I should have gotten rid of you when you were in London, Muamba. Those emails have caused me no end of trouble.”

  “Mr. President,” Joseph said coldly.

  “All right, Mr. President. My partners and I would like to know what’s happened to our mine.”

  “Who are your partners?”

  “You’ll never find the answer to that question.”

  “You might be surprised. Why did you say ‘mine,’ Sir Richard, w
hen you have five mines that we know of here? How many more do you have that we don’t know about?”

  There was a long pause before Sir Richard said, “You haven’t answered my question.”

  “Your mines are being assessed for taxation, which I believe might run to billions.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Sir Richard spluttered. “We won’t pay.”

  “That’s fine. If you don’t, we will seize the mines in lieu of the debt and sell them.”

  “You’re going to nationalize mining?”

  “No, I’m going to collect the tax rightfully due.”

  Joseph could hear angry breathing before Sir Richard said, “You bastard. Still, for all your games, it’s had no impact on my lifestyle. Sure, some politicians are causing me grief, but when the next election comes around, they’ll be begging me for donations.”

  “No, they won’t. You’ll be here facing murder charges.”

  “You have a strange sense of humor.” Sir Richard laughed cynically. “How do you propose to get me there?”

  “I’ll have you extradited,” Joseph said.

  “You idiot! No English court will extradite me,” Sir Richard yelled, before slamming down the phone.

  It took a few minutes for Sir Richard to regain his composure. He had lost billions, and there were many powerful politicians – and those in the legal profession – who had once been friends but who now would like nothing better than to see him extradited.

  He smiled. He wasn’t concerned. No English court would ever consider an extradition application from a country that still had the death penalty on its books.

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