“BREAKING NEWS: today, Dalabistan’s new ruler Anar Babayev became the latest modern leader in the world who revived the GULAG system and detained the mentally ill in labor camps. Reports of political dissidents, disabled individuals, and Shyngys tribesmen being detained and forced to enter the GULAGs are flowing from the capital Volkan, as well as from the cities of Alakala, Karaorda, and Munai.”
Anar Babayev turned our country into a laughingstock! These actions made Dalabistan lose its dignity and honor! I wonder how many more months it would take before my country becomes a new North Korea with all foreign imports banned.
Shame, complete shame for my country’s government! I am afraid that Anar Babayev will rule Dalabistan so immaturely that he would make North Korea seem like a progressive, liberal state with free trade and freedom of speech.
“President Anar Babayev has vowed to punish provocateurs who are threatening public order by spreading disinformation about the current devaluation of the Dalabistani aldan and by provoking people to disrupt social stability with illegal protests. Babayev’s statement came today right after the national currency has lost 500 percent of its value to the United States dollar.”
Turns out the lavish funeral of Volkan Babayev is just the start of the insanity in my homeland. My heart aches as I read each article in my feed. Tears flow from my eyes, realizing how I’m spending most of my time partying. What will I leave for the world after me? What would happen to the people around me if I would die today?
As I drive to my company’s headquarters, a thought grows deep inside my soul, an idea that speaks to a part of me I thought dead. Soon, it latches on to everything, and I can’t shake it. I must help all these poor Commoners with what I can!
Giving power to Anar Babayev was such a poor decision! What do you expect of a man who is spoiled, arrogant, childish, and sadistic? Driving Dalabistan to the top twenty of the world’s most developed countries? No, even a reckless monkey with a grenade can rule the country better than Anar.
If it hasn’t happened already, I bet that there would be violence soon. Either Anar Babayev would lose his head, or Anar’s security forces would decimate all of the Commoners.
There is nothing in between. In both cases, there is a high chance that this would mean refugees, brain drain, poverty, and war for Dalabistanis. My poor compatriots. I need to provide them an occupation and security in case the situation would get worse.
I could govern Dalabistan much better than Anar. If I were president, I could establish fair treatment for all, not just the Elite Tribes. I could bring jobs, help stimulate the economy, and make Dalabistan a beacon of democracy!
I arrive at the headquarters, enter my secretary Sara Moore’s room, and slam the door behind me. She stares at me with wide eyes full of fear, and at that moment, I wonder if I, too am a dictator, just on a business scale instead of a governmental scale. My people work hard, but I instill fear in them. I don’t have time to explore those thoughts, though, as there are more pressing matters at hand. I slam the door, come to her, and look down at her to ask for one favor,
“Sara, I am going to expand the operations of Karabars & Kim Industries to Dalabistan, open headquarters in Volkan, and employ the unemployed Commoners at the factories that the corrupt Elite Tribes had closed in Munai, Karaorda, and Alakala.”
She raises her eyebrows, “Are you serious? Why do you want to expand to that shithole country? What about all their corruption? Plus, have you seen what’s happening there right now?”
I don’t have time for this. Any minute lost is another minute where the Commoners are potentially being slaughtered by Anar’s forces. I smash my fist against her desk. “There are some things worth more than money. I need to give back to my community that you called a shithole country.”
She protests, “Sir, with all due respect, this is crazy! I just don’t get it. Being eaten by lions is a more humane form of death than conducting business in Dalabistan, especially right now with their new daredevil monkey as a ruler!”
I stand straight and suppress the rage that fills my body. “If you are unwilling to help, you can clear your desk and leave.”
That takes her aback. She opens her mouth to say something but then decides against it and purses her lips. I take a sip of water and calmly say, “Enough is enough. We can do some good over there. You can either be a part of it, or…” I point to the door.
She stands and smooths the wrinkles in her dress. “I don’t understand where this is all coming from, and I think it may be a mistake. However, I will help you.”
“Excellent. I knew you would,” I say. “I will draft a plan, and I want you to forward it to all the stakeholders. Set up a meeting so we can discuss the details. We need to move fast, as time is running out.”
I have to help my country because no one seems to want to assist my impoverished compatriots.
Time to get to real work.
Chapter 4: A New Beginning
The Human Resources room is already packed with shareholders, investors, management, and employees. A quick scan shows me all of my top management professionals are here. Bong Ju is at the table with his laptop open, drinking a cappuccino. Sara comes into the room with her notepad, ready to take notes. Several men in suits are laughing and exchanging jokes. But there is a nervous excitement in the air. They would have certainly seen the topic of today’s discussion, and I was sure there were a lot of questions and doubts in this crowd.
I greet everyone, “Good afternoon, colleagues. Today, we have the opportunity to make a real difference in the world. What I’m about to propose may seem crazy, but it has the potential to lead to a future of exponential growth for our company. I am announcing that Karabars & Kim Industries is expanding its operations to an underrated Central Asian country named Dalabistan.”
At first, there is silence as everyone stares at me. Sure, they saw the email. Perhaps they thought it was a joke. Or maybe they misunderstood. But now that I’ve said it out loud, the shock of it all is setting in. The men in suits shudder, spit out their coffee, and aggressively munch their chips they brought from their office break. They all stare at me with their eyes full of scorn and confusion.
Someone from the back of the room yells, “Where is even that country on a map? And what makes Dalabistan better than any random African country?”
“Well, a large advantage of Dalabistan is its central geographical location at the crossroads of Russia, China, and the Middle East. My plan is to turn our factories and warehouses into logistical transit hubs and industrial powerhouses to conduct business and supply our customers globally.”
An Asian woman in glasses jots down some words and asks quietly, “Did you just hear about President Volkan Babayev’s death? How are you going to conduct a business with such a repressive country?”
“That’s a good question, Ms. Mitsu.” I take a small sip of water, then continue, “I know one businessman who may help me around by circumventing the bureaucracy. His name is Almat Omarov, who enjoys certain privileges due to earning Babayev’s trust. However, he personally told me that he despises both of the Babayev rulers and their restrictive measures. He will be a useful business partner when it comes to starting out in Dalabistan. I already planned to meet him soon here in Los Angeles.”
Another question comes from the crowd, “Why do you even want to get involved in this mess of a country? Does this country have more oil than friendlier Gulf petrocracies?”
“It has a lot of oil, but it also has a large amount of free labor force at quite competitive wage prices. What is for us a salary below the minimum wage is a prestigious dream wage for them. Moreover, Dalabistanis would happily do any job we offer them. What we may offer in working conditions will already be a massive improvement for them, no matter how bad we are at enforcing standards, because the situation in Dalabistan is very abysmal.”
Ms. Mitsu continues, “Thanks for explaining the context. Now it sounds like an int
eresting proposal. I’m supporting your plan, Mr. Karabars.”
“Thank you for listening. Bong Ju, do you have anything to say about this?”
He stops drinking his cappuccino. “It’s very volatile there. Dangerous for anyone, especially foreigners. How are we going to stay safe?”
I smile and clap him on the shoulder. “I have some connections and a plan. Trust me, my friend.”
He stares at me for a moment before a smile spreads across his face. Bong Ju stands up, and salutes me, “Alisher, I fully stand by your actions. I really hope we will succeed.”
The next few hours are spent hashing through details, logistics, and getting everyone on board. The rest of the shareholders, investors, and employees aren’t as easy to convince as Bong Ju; however, with him on my side, they fall in line. We have a long road ahead of us, but I am optimistic of the future of my country for the first time in a long time.
Chapter 5: The Last Party
A year later, Bong Ju and I celebrate the tenth anniversary of Karabars & Kim Industries’ creation. To celebrate, we rented out a big nightclub in Los Angeles named The Emperor. Preparations were made, and it looks to be an epic party!
The valet rushes to open the door to the Ferrari as I pull up in front of the club. I throw my Ferrari keys to the valet and enter the nightclub. There’s a big crowd, but I quickly spot Bong Ju and he sees me at the same time and waves me over.
“Hey bro, you’re finally here!”
I grasp his hand and pull him close for a tight embrace. “Can you believe what we’ve accomplished?”
He shakes his head and smiles. “It’s amazing!”
I walk to the center of the dance floor, ready to start the party. I proudly declare for the gathered employees, “Ladies and gentlemen! When my lifelong friend Bong Ju and I founded this company ten years ago on May 18, we did not expect to quickly become a dominant industry player in the world. We have risen to the top, but our journey is far from over! Our next endeavor promises to be challenging, but it is a challenge that I know we can overcome. We will expand globally so that everyone would be able to buy our products!” The guests and employees applaud. Many hold champagne glasses in the air.
Bong Ju screams in his ever-optimistic voice, “Let’s get the party started!”
The DJ turns on the music, and soon the club is filled with techno beats and neon lights.
As I scan the crowd, I can’t help but smile. There are so many attractive women wearing fine dresses and high heels. As the music increases its beat and the party goes on, Bong Ju shouts to my ear to talk over the roaring music, “Hey Alisher, you see that brunette with the olive skin by the bar counter?”
“Yeah, so what?”
He chuckles and playfully asks, “Think you can get her to go home with you tonight?”
Ah, Bong Ju. He’s dared me and goaded me into approaching many women before. I still remember my college classmates rejecting me brutally. There’s a small part of me that’s scared of another rejection. However, I suppress that fear and replace it with bravado. “Well, challenge accepted, bro!”
Moonhee walks over with a glass of champagne in her hand. She gives Bong Ju a kiss and smiles. “What are you two up to? I’ve seen that look before.”
I smile back and point to the woman by the bar. “Bong Ju just dared me to hook up with her.”
Moonhee looks over to the woman and then back. She playfully hits Bong Ju in the shoulder. “You boys are disgusting.”
Bong Ju picks her up and swings her around in a circle. She giggles as she spins through the air.
“You didn’t think it was disgusting when I hit on you,” Bong Ju says. He nods to me. “Good luck, mate!”
Bong Ju and Moonhee wander off to dance, leaving me by myself. My heart starts to race, and beads of sweat roll down my back. The lump in my throat pierces through my nerves. Why am I suddenly feeling like this? I haven’t felt this awkward around a woman in years!
My hands are shaking as I walk towards the woman. She is a nine out of ten for sure, so I definitely put her on my radar. When I was younger, there would have been no way that I would even try and talk to someone like her. All the reminiscing about my past has started to affect my way of thinking. What if she rejects me again like countless other girls did in the past?
She sees me approaching and flashes me a warm smile. “Hi, you’re that Alisher, right?”
“Yeah,” I shyly respond. I didn’t expect her to make the first move.
“It’s very nice to meet you.”
I saddle up next to her and try to remain confident. “You have me at a disadvantage. You know me, but I don’t know you. What’s your name?”
“Adriana Gonzalez,” she says. I’m lost in her eyes and the way her cheeks look when she speaks. She is a confident woman, powerful. The last time I saw that spark in the eyes was when I dated Alessia in Dreamhouse. I stare at her red shoes on heels and her white dress that makes her look like an angel or café au lait.
With admiration, I comment while I stare at her feet, “I love your style, Adriana. You’ve got a great look.”
“Aww, thank you, Alisher. You’re a cutie,” remarks Adriana while pointing her heels at me. Then she whispers in my ear, “Hey, it’s kind of loud in here, don’t you think? Plus, while these shoes make my legs look amazing, they are killing my feet. Would you like to come over to my place for some coffee?” Her lips tease my ear as she whispers that. She might be the most successful girl I picked up since Alessia from college.
Someone taps me on the shoulder, breaking Adriana’s spell. I turn, annoyed at the interruption, and find my secretary, Sara standing behind me. “Mr. Karabars, may I talk with you really quickly?”
“Sure,” I tell Sara. I turn back to Adriana. “Please forgive me. This will hopefully only be a moment. I’m very interested in continuing our conversation.”
Adriana writes her number down on a piece of napkin and slides it into my pants pocket. Then she gives me a wink and walks away.
Sara leads me to the conference room of the nightclub. Once inside, she turns on the TV. As she is flipping to the news channels, she tells me, “Did you hear that Anar Babayev has just signed a decree that declares all Dalabistani businesses as the property of the government?”
“What?!”
There’s no way Anar would do such a thing.
Sara turns the TV to the BBC and points at the screen. “He decided to use protectionist measures similar to the Middle Eastern and Communist countries. I bet he sees our company as a threat to him and his country. Look.”
The BBC anchor announces:
“The President of Dalabistan Anar Babayev has just passed a law requiring all foreign companies operating in the Central Asian republic to surrender their power and assets to the so-called ‘local managers.’ Analysts say that it would cause a great harm to a large amount of British, American, Russian, and Korean companies working in Dalabistan as well as to the generally-impoverished population that is employed by these companies.”
Then it cuts into Anar Babayev speaking,
“The cockroaches that infiltrate our homeland are contaminating Dalabistan. They are the big businesses from overseas that thrive in Dalabistan from American conglomerates’ funding and foreign governments desiring to disrupt our country. Behind the scenes, they are stealing our land. They are murderers that want to destroy our order. We are the true owners of Dalabistan, not these tycoons overseas that exploit you. We will wipe out these invaders. You do not notice that when you are employed at one of their factories. But I will not let this happen anymore! I signed a decree banning and transferring these companies’ Dalabistani branches and their holdings in Dalabistan to the ownership of our Dalabistani skilled elites.”
The anchor continues:
“Our political commentator from Dalabistan, Alexandr Kuzmenko, suggests that this decree was initiated to suppress dissent through cutting off the foreigners from i
nfluencing Dalabistanis’ beliefs. He speculates that passing this law could prompt nation-wide resistance since around one half of Dalabistanis are employed by these foreign companies, the largest being newcomer, Karabars & Kim Industries that belongs to billionaires Alisher Karabars and Bong Ju Kim. While new to the country, this conglomerate already employs more than a third of Dalabistani workers.”
I wanted to say something, but the words refuse to come. I could not believe what I just heard.
Chapter 6: A Grave Situation
No! No! This can’t be true!
Everything I have been trying to do to help my fellow compatriots to survive through the hard times of the great devaluation is about to turn into nothing but dust. Giving them jobs, decent wages, hope, and relative prosperity—all for Babayev to take everything away from us! I hated the Babayev family enough for destroying Dalabistan’s dreams, but this time Anar Babayev took it to a whole next level!
“Sara, I need some time to think.”
She nods as I leave. “Of course. Please call me if you need anything.”
That evening a thunderstorm pours violently. My dreams and efforts are wasted to nothing! I don’t even know how to deliver the dreadful news to my employees in our many factories and offices of Dalabistan. How will they tell this to their children that they are now unable to feed and upbring? Anar Babayev is a monster that wants to suck out virtually all of the potential from Dalabistan for his own benefit, leaving everybody else without anything.
A deep feeling of despair sits in my soul as I drive back home. What options do I have? How can I fix this situation! How good of a leader am I if I am unable to save my business? While my company is doing great in America, Europe, Australia, and Korea, I have invested so much of my energy while trying to give aid to my motherland! Will my efforts go in vain? If so, then I would just sell my company, retire, and live for the rest of my life in luxury while spending my savings. These thoughts haunt me the whole way home.
The Outcast Presidents Page 6
