Pretty nodded her head reluctantly. She looked scared out of her wits. Amie walked back into the lounge and perched on the edge of the sofa. She waited to hear what Colonel Mbanzi had to say.
“I have, uh, heard reports you have been using a video camera?” His eyes appeared to bore right through her.
Amie was unsure how to answer, but she could hardly lie since he seemed sure of his facts.
“Well, yes. But I only filmed the house and friends, things like that,” she replied. She had a hollow feeling just below her ribs, hearing Diana’s words in her head. ‘Be careful with that camera – the authorities here can be very sensitive about filming certain things, even taking still photographs.’
“And other places as well, I think?” The colonel leaned back and stared at Amie.
“Oh no, I’ve not taken it into town – no government buildings or anything …”
“Oh, but I think you have. We recovered your tape at the airport.”
Amie was puzzled. “But I’ve not been to the airport since I arrived, apart from our leave, so how …? No, you must be mistaken.”
“I can assure you I am not mistaken,” the colonel replied sharply. He put his hand in his pocket and brought out a familiar tape in its plastic case. Amie recognised it immediately. “I believe this belongs to you?” He looked less friendly now.
Amie suddenly understood. “Oh, yes. I did record the visit to the school, when the foreign sponsors came over. They want to raise more money for the orphanage. It was for a good cause and they asked me to shoot … uh, film it.”
“So, people outside this country will think we are not capable of providing for our own children, is that it?”
“No, no! Well, I guess …” Amie didn’t know what to say. She’d always assumed that countries, especially African countries, were only too happy to receive handouts of any amount, from anywhere, and from anyone who was prepared to give it to them.
“I thought … well, these ladies, they wanted to show other people in their church that the orphans needed some equipment, and wanted …” Amie didn’t know how to continue. She felt every word was only making things worse.
The colonel sat silently for a few minutes and Pretty crept in with the coffee and water, moving more quickly than Amie had ever seen her move before. It reminded Amie how afraid of authority the locals were.
Amie picked up the glass of water and put it on the end of the coffee table, then focused her attention on adding sugar and milk to her coffee. She was nervous, but tried hard not to show it.
“You know you are not allowed to just film anything? You know this?” said the colonel, ignoring the glass in front of him.
“But I didn’t I mean – it was just the school and the children. If it brings in money then they will all benefit won’t they? It’s good for everyone, isn’t it?” Amie was scared that whatever she said would only dig herself in deeper. Her mouth felt dry and she was finding it difficult to swallow.
“Some people might believe that, yes,” he replied slowly. “You take good pictures with your camera, sharp and in focus?” He twisted the plastic box around in his hand.
“Yes, I think so, I, uh, well … I worked in a video production house in London where we made programmes for television,” Amie replied, then groaned inwardly. That was the last thing she should have said; what an idiot she was.
“You are a professional film maker, then?”
“Oh no, not really. I mean, I’m not working here, here in Togodo. I mean I’m only here because my husband is building the desalination plant. I don’t have a job or anything …”
“That is my point.” Colonel Mbanzi picked up the glass of water and took a sip.
What point? thought Amie. What now? Oh, please don’t let this have any effect on Jonathon’s work. He’ll never forgive me if they throw us out of Togodo. Drenton would fire him and he’d never get another job and … Amie’s thoughts ran riot.
The colonel sat silently for several seconds and then said, “I think you could be of help to us.”
“Help? In what way?” Amie’s eyebrows shot up. This was going from bad to worse.
“We want to show the people all the good things we are doing for them. I think if we have the pictures to prove it, then the people will be very happy. We don’t need pictures showing bad conditions; this gives the world a very bad impression of us.” He deliberately replaced Amie’s tape of the school and orphanage back in his pocket.
“I really don’t know how I can help,” said Amie. What was he getting at? Every nerve in her body seemed to be on high alert.
“We would request you help us with the filming,” he said.
“Me! Oh no, I’m not sure I’m that good! No, I couldn’t!” exclaimed Amie.
“But you said you worked in a professional company in London, so I am sure you are being far too modest.” When the colonel smiled, he displayed two rows of white teeth, but again the smile never reached his eyes.
Amie didn’t quite know what to think, but she did know she didn’t want to get involved with any official department; no way.
As if reading her mind, the colonel continued. “We would be most disappointed if you refused, especially when you are in a position to help us – as you, and your husband …” he paused to let his words sink in, “… are guests in our country.” He smiled again and sat back, waiting for her reply.
What a bastard, thought Amie, he’s putting me in an impossible situation. What the hell am I supposed to say? Then she had an idea. “I’m not sure my husband would be at all happy about me working. You understand of course?”
“But he allowed you to work in London, no?” The colonel continued to smile.
“That was different. Most women work in England; you need two salaries to live and …” Amie was fast running out of ideas.
“We like to think we are just as modern and forward-looking as you are in England,” the colonel replied.
Yeah, right, thought Amie. He has to be joking. Has he ever travelled to a first world country?
“And we have no problems with women working. I’m sure you’ve seen many yourself, like the lady at the orphanage, for example? And I’m sure when you explain to your husband how necessary this filming is, then he will benefit as well.”
The colonel smiled again and rose to his feet. “I’m sure we can come to some arrangement which is mutually beneficial to all of us. Here is my card, and I will expect to see you on Wednesday afternoon around two?” The colonel turned and walked out of the house without waiting for Amie to show him out.
As soon as the colonel’s chauffeured Range Rover had disappeared from sight, Amie went and sat back on the couch. What had she got herself into? There was more than a hint of a veiled threat in the colonel’s words. If she refused, then it sounded as if there might even be problems with the desalination plant. He had said as much. Amie decided to wait and talk to Jonathon when he came home.
It was unfortunate that when Jonathon returned from work even later than usual, he was in a particularly bad mood, and Amie didn’t think her news was going to improve his frame of mind. From the revving of the car engine and the loud slamming of both the car door and the front door, she could tell his day had also not gone well. She decided to wait until he had eaten before mentioning the colonel’s visit. But it didn’t work out that way; she just couldn’t wait to talk to him.
“How did your day go?” she asked, as Jonathon flung down his briefcase onto the couch.
“Like most days, bloody awful,” he replied. “The equipment is still stuck in the docks, and it’s one excuse after another as to why they won’t release it. I wish I knew what was really going on.” Jonathon dropped onto the sofa and closed his eyes.
“Well, I don’t know if it’s connected in any way, but I had a visitor early this morning,” said Amie.
Jonathon opened his eyes and frowned. “A visitor? How on earth could that be connected with my work?”
“I don’t really k
now, but there was a sort of threat that if I didn’t …” Amie wasn’t sure quite how to explain events. Perhaps her imagination was working overtime, but then she recalled the feelings she’d had earlier.
“Didn’t what?” Jonathon sat up and gave her his full attention.
Amie sat down beside him and tried to gather her thoughts. “This colonel came to see me,” she said. “A Colonel Mbanzi, who suggested I help him to make the country look good by taking videos.”
“Mbanzi? … That name rings a bell. Think he’s pretty high up, has the ear of the president. Videos of what?” Jonathon was puzzled.
“Videos of all the improvements the government has made for the people, though so far, I’ve not seen anything that looks as if it’s improving any lifestyle. I’ve never seen so much poverty.”
“I certainly haven’t seen anything, and I’m not sure how it could’ve been much worse before for most of the population,” snapped Jonathon. “And where are you supposed to do all this filming?”
“I don’t know, but I’ve been ordered to go and see the colonel on Wednesday. He left me his card.” Amie got the colonel’s business card out of her bag and handed it to Jonathon.
“Do you want to do this?” he asked her.
“No, not really. But I don’t think I have a choice. He was very insistent and, well … it’s possible it may affect you. It was almost a veiled threat that if I didn’t co-operate then things would be more difficult for you. He didn’t say so in so many words Jonathon, but it was there. Well, his exact words were, ‘And I’m sure when you explain to your husband how necessary this filming is, then he will benefit as well.’”
Jonathon leaned forward and put his head in his hands. “Look,” he said after a few minutes, “you don’t have to do this you know. I could always send you home, or we could even leave together. I don’t want you in any danger.”
Not for a moment was Amie tempted, not after their awful holiday. It would be just too humiliating to slink back home now. She could imagine people laughing and whispering about how they’d made a terrible mistake leaving in the first place.
No, her friends were here, and she enjoyed her life. She thought of Angelina, the school and Diana and her new friends at the Club, and the wide-open spaces outside the city. There was something about Africa; it was almost as if she was under a spell. It came from walking on the ground with the feel of drumbeats beneath your feet. She recalled hearing that once you were in Africa for longer than ten years, then you could never leave; you always carried a piece of the dark continent within you.
“Look, I won’t come to any harm. I’m sure I’ll be all right.” She pushed her fears to the back of her mind. This was just one more psychological hurdle to get over. Why was she being so silly? If someone in England asked her to go and film something, she’d be over the moon, so why should it be any different because this was another country? Amie stood up and walked towards the kitchen to fetch Jonathon’s supper which had been waiting for him for several hours.
“Don’t even think about either of us leaving,” she said in a firm voice. “I’m just being ridiculous. I’m sure the colonel will make certain that nothing awful happens. I mean, what could go wrong, for heaven’s sake?”
“I suppose you’re right. A new environment just takes a bit of getting used to,” said Jonathon and yawned widely. “This colonel would lose a lot of face if you got hurt or anything, so perhaps we’re overreacting.”
“Of course, he would,” replied Amie as she returned with Jonathon’s dried up dinner from the oven.
How dangerous could it possibly be?
Amie tossed and turned into the early hours of the morning. Despite the whirling of the overhead fan, she found it impossible to sleep as images tumbled round and round in her head. She didn’t dare say no to what the colonel had asked, but she was fearful. It was more than an unspoken rule among the expatriate population – you don’t get involved in government and official business, especially if you were only a temporary resident as a wife. It was fine to visit a school and do a little low-key charity work, and play tennis, attend parties and gatherings in your own home or the local Expatriate Club, but nothing more. Even trips out of town were not really encouraged, since there were several ‘sensitive’ areas, which were generally rumoured to be military training camps or possibly storage areas for weapons. There were the usual urban legends of one or two of those more curious people who had driven off one day never to be seen again.
Yet another hot, tiring and frustrating day at work ensured that Jonathon lay comatose and snoring quietly beside her while Amie worried what the following days might bring. At least she could talk to Diana and get advice from her, and that was the only decision Amie had made before the early birds began to chirp in the pre-dawn light.
“Oh, my dear, what a terrible position to be put in!” exclaimed Diana. “I must admit, this is a first. I’ve never heard of a situation where the wife was asked to get involved with official business before.”
Amie had called Diana on her cell phone first thing, and now they were sitting beside the pool at the Club sipping an early morning cup of coffee.
“I feel I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t,” explained Amie miserably. “I know I didn’t imagine the veiled threat that things wouldn’t go well for Jonathon if I refused. I’d never forgive myself if I stuffed up his big chance.”
“It’s certainly a problem,” Diana replied. “The only thing I can think of is you ‘drop’ the camera so you can’t do the work.”
“I’ve already thought of that,” Amie replied. “But similar cameras are on sale over the Internet, and I guess they would simply replace it. But why me, Diana? Why ask me to film for them? Surely there are plenty of other people here who are just as capable, if not more so.”
“Well,” her friend replied slowly. “Remember what I said about lack of trust. Perhaps, if they feel they can control you, then you’ll film exactly what they want. Also, remember, now they know you’ve had professional training and you were trained in the country known worldwide for having excellent television. Well, that makes you a natural choice.” She went on, “if they had looked at the footage you took at the school and were impressed with the quality, then it makes sense.”
“I was rather proud of the bits I filmed on the visit,” Amie said. She still didn’t want to admit even to Diana she was only working as a receptionist for the production house in London, but on the other hand, she had received three years training in television and video production in college. If it wasn’t such a popular profession then she might well have got a job as a camera person or an editor. But it was one of those industries you had to work your way up from the bottom. Now it looked as if she had leapt from the reception desk to full-blown producer overnight.
“Maybe we’re getting too hysterical about this,” said Diana, with a smile. “How bad can it be? All you have to do is make a short film of the things they point out to you. Play along with them and then later, when you’re back in UK, use some of the footage to tell the real truth. Hey, you could become famous, get on National Geographic even.”
“Now that’s an idea,” said Amie, cheering up a lot.
Diana leaned back and lit a cigarette. “It would be an opportunity to try and explain what it’s really like here in Africa. Pictures tell a thousand words – show the poverty, but also show the ignorance, the hardworking mothers and the lazy, absentee fathers. Highlight the corruption and the waste of foreign aid; it’ll give donors a chance to see how they can give contributions that will really help. No good sending lots of food if it’s left on the docks to rot, or sold to the starving for their last few cents. Many people aren’t aware of this, and they give willingly, not realising all they’re doing is lining the already bulging pockets of those few at the top of the regime.”
Amie listened to her friend in dismay. “But Diana, is it always as bad as that?” she protested mildly. “There are a lot of good, honest people her
e, surely.”
“Yes, there are,” said Diana stubbing out her cigarette, “but those are not the people at the top. Not the people who run and control events. Strength is admired on this continent and you have to be tough and ruthless to get to the top and stay there.”
Amie sat up straight and decided to look on the bright side. Perhaps it would be fun filming. At least she was the only foreigner who could do it openly and with government blessing. There must be strict rules even for overseas television crews, and no one had ever heard of anyone ever being given permission to film. No one took much interest in Togodo; it wasn’t a particularly large country and it didn’t have any developed natural resources worth fighting over.
It was only a couple of days later, when Amie and Jonathon were attending a function at the Club, that Amie recalled her conversation with Diana by the pool. Formal dinners were held at least monthly; it was an excuse to dress up, get together and relieve the monotony of a society without the usual television, cinemas, and theatres. Some of the more active members of the Club organised beetle drives, a movie, quiz evenings, talent contests and so on. Amie thought of it as a flashback to the old Victorian days. In fact, the evenings were fun, so perhaps those Victorians knew a thing or two.
That night, there were about twenty-odd tables laid out in the main room of the Club. With ten people to a table, Amie reckoned nearly all the British expatriates were there, plus a couple of French and Italians as well. Amie realised for the first time that there weren’t too many foreigners in Togodo. A few fairy lights had been strung round the walls and the waiters were wearing their best uniforms.
“What’s the special occasion?” Amie asked Diana as they took their seats.
“I really don’t know,” Diana replied. “But I do see a couple of strangers.”
As in any small, tightly knit community, everyone knew everyone else, at least by sight, and new arrivals were greeted with interest. Amie remembered their first evening at the Club, when it seemed she met almost a hundred people all at once, and at the end of the evening, could only remember one or two of them.
Amie in Africa Box Set 1 Page 15
