They also bought a 2038 RetroRover with only 85,000 kilometers on the odometer. It had some recent repairs, including new belts and hoses, so all it needed was a new set of tires and a refrigerant recharge for its air conditioner to get it ready for the road. The plan was for Mark to drive the Unimog while Nancy would follow in the RetroRover, and they would keep in constant radio contact with headset FRS radios. Getting the registration paperwork and windshield discs took three weeks, so this very nearly delayed their departure. The registration forms with the cut-out discs arrived just a day before their departure.
Before they left, they gave away most of their household furnishings and their two cars to GCC staffers. They very carefully packed any fragile items, knowing that they would be going over some very poor roads, especially in the last 250 kilometers of their trip.
The straight-line distance from Lusaka to Solus Christus was 2,450 kilometers, but the road distance was 2,905 kilometers, through Zambia, Tanzania, Kenya, and finally into the Ilemi.
On their third day of traveling, the alternator on the RetroRover failed, causing its battery to get progressively weaker. Once the battery dropped below seven volts, the engine’s electronic ignition could no longer operate, so it automatically shut down. They were far from the nearest town, so their solution was to hook a tow strap to the Unimog’s trailer and keep going at lower speed. They towed the RetroRover 65 kilometers to the small town of Rungwa, Tanzania. There they had to wait for two days for a new alternator to be delivered from the capital city of Dodoma.
While Kenya’s Muslim population was only 12%, Muslims accounted for 35% of the population in Tanzania. This fact, along with the value of their household goods that only had a canvas cover for protection from theft, made them feel quite anxious. An Anglican missionary allowed them to leave their Unimog parked inside of his mission compound while they awaited repairs on the RetroRover.
They had a few tense minutes when the mechanic declared that the wrong alternator had been delivered. He shouted, “The bolting holes do not line up!” It was not until Mark examined the mounting that he noticed that the mechanic was attempting to install the new alternator upside down. In the end, Mark helped to complete the installation.
The remainder of their trip was fairly uneventful. Their names were recognized, once they passed into Kenya, and they were greeted warmly wherever they stopped. Mark had kept in touch with his cabinet via e-mail, so the residents of Solus Christus knew his approximate arrival time, and a surprise party was organized on the grounds of Mtume’s house.
When Mark and Nancy’s vehicles pulled up to their house, there was a throng of cheering Ilemis gathered. After handshakes and a celebratory toast with sparkling cider, the crowd helped move in the Mtume’s furniture and boxes. There were just two hours of remaining daylight, but with so many helpers, the work was accomplished in just 40 minutes.
As they were unpacking the trailer, Owiti Toure noticed a black grease stain on one of the trailer wheels. He said, “It looks like you lost a bearing. It was probably rusty.” He felt the axle hub with the back of his knuckles, and said, “Yeah, it was running very hot. You probably wouldn’t have made it another hundred klicks without having the wheel fall off. No worries. I’ll take some measurements and get two new sets of bearings on order for you.”
As they were carrying in Mark’s desk, an enormous gray and white Martial Eagle began circling overhead. One of the Afrikaners pointed skyward and shouted, “Kyk Daar! Daar is ‘n groot Breekoparend!” (“Oh, look there! There is a huge Martial Eagle!”) Several people in the crowd commented that although there were 11 different raptor species found in the Ilemi, this eagle species was rare, and that it was unusual to see any eagle circling so low over a large group of people.
During the unloading, someone handed Mark a hammer and chisel and said, “Time for those license plates, Mr. President!”
This was an Ilemi tradition that had developed in the past few months: Whenever any newcomer brought a vehicle into the country permanently, it was expected that the license plates be removed and immediately used for rifle or pistol targets. Mark Mtume was happy to oblige. As in most other African nations, Zambian license plates were attached with pop rivets, so it took a cold chisel to remove the plates. He and his wife then gleefully shredded the Unimog and RetroRover license plates with three magazines each from their Glock pistols, amid many shouts of encouragement from the crowd.
Luckily, Nancy had labeled each box with its intended destination room. Even so, it was several days before they sorted through all of the boxes and put everything in its proper place.
Chapter 24: A New Citizen
“The principle of self-defense, even involving weapons and bloodshed, has never been condemned, even by Gandhi.” -- Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr.
Solus Christus, The Ilemi Republic -- October, Four Years After Declaration of the Caliphate
Meital Akins went into labor late on a Saturday evening in the second week of October. Her pregnancy had gone well, with not much discomfort. But nothing had prepared her for the pain of childbirth. Both a midwife and an obstetrics nurse midwife were in attendance at their home. Her labor went on for nine hours.
David Ben Richard Akins arrived healthy and content, weighing 3.4 kilograms. He was a remarkably quiet baby who nursed healthily three times a night. They soon learned that David travelled well -- something that was important, given his parents’ busy travel schedule.
Because he was born inside Ilemi territory to Ilemi Citizens, David would be eligible for Class A Citizenship once he reached adulthood. As part of the Ilemi’s first Sabra generation born to new settler parents, David would be among the first to be fully enfranchised, with ten votes if he were to gain title to ten or more hectares of land.
Six days after David Akins was born, Grace Pilcher learned that she was pregnant. Alan relayed this news when he called Rick to congratulate him on the birth of his son.
Clive Pilcher held a semi-permanent suite at the Solus Christus Hotel; he never fully relocated to the Republic, instead preferring to base his many travels from London. His key task was securing diplomatic recognition for the new country. In all, he got full recognition from 38 countries, “no visa required” tourist travel for Ilemi passport holders from 42 countries, and visa-required travel from 20 more. These were remarkable achievements, considering the country’s demeaned status in the UN and its veritable pariah status by all of the IS-affiliated nation-states. Although Clive Pilcher was never able to secure full recognition by the United States, he was able to get recognition from Canada. This essentially negated the U.S. trade embargo, since Canada had an open-border trade policy with the U.S. and Mexico.
Clive Pilcher’s other significant diplomatic success was development of the Nations of Refuge Confederation. The other member nations in the Confederation included Australia, Ecuador, India, Israel, Kenya, Kiribati, Namibia, the Philippines, Poland, Rwanda, South Sudan, and Zambia.
Clive Pilcher also had responsibility for some tasks that he did not enjoy: These involved rebuffing dozens of requested bribes that came from diplomatic representatives from around the world. Many of these were thinly veiled threats of alignment with the WIS against the Ilemi Republic unless some specified concessions were granted. Often these involved requests for favoritism in infrastructure contracts (cell phone and data services were the most common) or for transportation services. The other common ploy was either the threat of economic barriers -- or conversely the offer of “expediting customs paperwork,” following payment of various sums, usually to private numbered accounts in various banking havens both Western and Thirdist. In coordination with President Mtume, Pilcher decided from the outset to take the high ground and refuse to play along with any of these schemes. He knew that if he dirtied his hands with some of them, the tally of countries granting recognition to the Ilemi Republic would be higher. But he reasoned that it was best to play it clean and never give an inch to those who were demanding br
ibes or other slimy quid pro quo arrangements.
Chapter 25: Neophytes
“I’m convinced that the infantry is the group in the army which gives more and gets less than anybody else.” -- Bill Mauldin
Near the Omo River, The Ilemi Republic -- December, Four Years After Declaration of the Caliphate
Not surprisingly, in a cattle-grazing country, the IRDF’s first field operations were in response to cattle thefts. In the first instance the cattle had not been branded, so it took some time to ascertain the location and then the ownership of the cattle. Distinctive ear notches were the proof of ownership. The thieves were captured by the four members of the IRDF’s newly-formed Ziska Long Range Patrol Platoon, which later became the Ziska Battalion. The six cattle were returned, and the thieves made recompense. They were two young Dassanech tribesmen looking for “bride cattle.” Bride prices were still denominated in cattle throughout the region, so it was commonplace for young men who had small herds to steal additional cattle from other tribes until they could pay for their intended bride. The two men were armed with pangas and did not put up any resistance when arrested by the IRDF patrol.
The second cattle theft incident, three months later, involved 18 branded cattle from a herdsman west of Liwan. Again, the perpetrators were Dassanech men. But these were all armed with AK-47s and started firing as soon as an IRDF Moth spotter plane began circling them. The Moth pilot backed off to a higher, wider orbit and called for help. Two hours later, the group of six cattle thieves walked into a hastily-arranged IRDF ambush just 200 meters short of their intended crossing of the Omo River, which was the border with Kenya. When they were ordered to halt both in English and Kiswahili (“Mwizi!”) by the leader of the five-man IRDF patrol, the cattle thieves decided to fight, spraying inaccurate bursts of full-auto fire from their AKs. The IRDF troopies returned fire, much more deliberately. Firing a total of only 23 rounds, they shot and killed all six men. This was the IRDF’s first combat engagement: It both proved the importance of marksmanship training and cemented the reputation of the IRDF with local herdsman as a capable protective force.
The all-volunteer Voice of the Ilemi Republic (VOIR) was essentially a 24-hour-a-day podcast, although there were eventually local FM transmitters in Solus Christus, Liwan, and Midvale. VOIR prided itself for having all live DJ hosts around the clock. Many of these DJs lived in other countries and had home studios. Although the news and announcements were all in English, the mix of music was truly eclectic. Hymns in English and Afrikaans, Messianic praise music from Israel both in Hebrew and in English, and Christian pop music from around the world predominated. With so many cattle ranchers in the country, there was also a smattering of Western Swing music that soon became a sensation with native herdsmen. It was odd hearing groups of herdsmen gathering in groups in their native garb and singing songs like “Miles and Miles of Texas” or “Moon Over Montana.”
Two other Ilemi podcasts soon emerged, although they used a mixture of live and recorded shows: The first was the “B Service” of VOIR (podcast only) which featured pre-recorded Christian sermons and teaching ministries and live sermons on Saturday and Sunday mornings. The second was a commercial station called I2DL (Ilemi To the Limit), which had an almost all-music format of mostly pop music from the United States. It had a following throughout Europe, South Africa, Israel, and Australia. Most of the Neo-Puritans in the Ilemi Republic shunned this station, which many described as “that foreign filth” because of the godless and hedonistic lyrics so common in 21st century pop music. Both local privately-owned ISPs blocked the I2DL podcast address on moral grounds, but this could be circumvented by anyone who was within cellular phone coverage, since any podcast could also be accessed via smartphones.
Life was getting better for Alex Mayol. Just weeks after the new government was announced, he was issued an Ilemi passport. Soon after, he’d had his cattle wormed and branded, free of charge. Most important, for the first time in his life he could vote. Since the Ilemi had been disputed territory, nearly all of its residents were disenfranchised. But now he would have ten times as many votes as the newcomers. Alex was a Christian. Unlike his great-grandfather, who worshipped cows, Alex’s grandfather had become a Christian and led all of his family to faith in Jesus.
A missionary charitably gave Alex both a mobile phone and a solar panel to keep the new phone charged. Because his band of the Turkana tribe mainly grazed their cattle west of the Watha Peth Hills, he was not inside of cellular coverage very often. But more cell towers were being installed every week, and on VOIR they said that the whole country would have cellular service within two years. The tribe provided him a deed to 200 hectares of land that included his favorite pasture ground. At first he thought this was a trick and that he would be charged a tax on his land. But then he learned there would be no taxes, now or ever, as guaranteed in the Ilemi Constitution.
The newcomers were wealthy and had strange customs, but they were friendly and fellow believers in Jesus. He was often offered rides when he was walking along roads -- something that had never happened before Independence – and they called him Brother! The volume of new truck and airplane traffic was amazing. Everywhere he went there were houses being built, roads being improved, and new water wells being bored. Up on the tableland to the east, the construction activity was nonstop.
Throughout the Ilemi, everyone sensed a great change. There was laughter, hymn singing, and generosity. But the generosity was different from what he had experienced before. Instead of just being handed monthly sacks of Mielie-meal and rice, he was given seeds, gardening tools, and tubes of cattleworming paste. The new saying was, “Not a hand out, but a hand up.” He was also offered two different paying jobs, as a house construction laborer and as a fence builder, but he had his cattle to watch, so he said no. But his brother did take a job, and it paid very well. His job was shoveling and spreading EP357 plastic for underground houses.
When the heavy rains of December began every year, Alex left the vicinity of the Napak village to move his cattle herd to the northern portion of the Lokwanamoru Mountains, near Kodirin Pass. This annual change of pasture for four months was always made without his wife and two young children, who were safer and more comfortable in the village. Normally his unmarried younger brother Wilson would go with him on this seasonal trek, bringing along his own cattle. But this year Alex would be on his own, because his brother was now working six days a week in construction. This year Alex had two bulls and 32 cows and calves, supplemented with 11 more cattle that belonged to Wilson, so the herd would be a lot for him to handle by himself.
Wilson did go with him for the first three days to move the cattle -- both to help herd the cattle and to pack in supplies. As usual, Alex’s camping equipment and supplies were Spartan: His well-worn AK, a sharp panga and sheath, a utility knife, a sharpening stone, a deep pot that could be used for milking cows, frying, and for making soups, a bottle of cooking oil (which he also used on his AK), several butane lighters, a canteen, some twine and wire, a poncho, some fish hooks and a hand line, a mosquito net, soap, a few snares, Mielie-meal, rice, tea, salt, and a little sugar. This year, for the first time, he also had the cellphone and solar charger. Both he and his brother had donkeys with pannier packs so everything would fit, but the loads would be heavy.
Pushing the cattle west on the trails over the hills was difficult only for the first day. They herded the cattle on foot, calling their names and goading them with long sticks. After that, the cattle sensed that they were on the trail and moved along without much coaxing. On the third day, Alex selected a new camp beside a long-abandoned kraal. The thorny acacia fence looked as if it had not been used for at least 20 years. He never used the same campsite two years in a row; by using a new site each year the pasture grass was more plentiful, and there were fewer ticks and less stench in his camp.
It would be lonely in the cattle camp once his brother left, but this year he would have his new Logos cell phone, which i
ncluded an FM receiver, a library of MP6 music, and even games. That would keep him occupied on the quiet evenings by himself.
A week after Wilson left, Alex was into his daily routine which started before daybreak, re-kindling his campfire and cooking his breakfast. Then he would count the cows, turn them out of the tight enclosure, and walk them out onto their fresh pasture grass. This would be a good season. The cattle would grow fat, and the pasture back home would have a chance to recover, without any grazing.
This morning, just after turning the cattle out of the kraal, he heard something strange: the snort of a horse. At first he thought it was kudu snorting, but then he heard hoof beats -- very distinctively horse’s hooves. In the early morning light, five mounted riders came into view. They were wearing black headscarves and carrying Kalashnikovs. Alex readied his own AK, flipping its big safety lever down to the first click.
He called to the strangers, who he thought might be Sudanese cattle thieves, “As-salām ˤalaykom.”
He expected the customary answer in Arabic, “Wa ˤalaykom as-salām.” But they answered instead with rapid-repeating gunshots. Alex fell, dying, without the strength in his arms to lift his AK to return their fire. Before he lost consciousness, he said quietly, “Forgive these thieves, oh Lord.”
Five hours later, white-backed vultures began circling the kraal. By then the cattle had wandered away. But Alex Mayol’s body was there, as well as that of a dead yearling heifer. She had been shot in the head and then the meat from only her backstrap had been hacked away.
A herdsman a few miles to the south saw the vultures, but he assumed that they had been circling over a lion’s kill. So he didn’t give it much thought.
Land of Promise (Counter-Caliphate Chronicles Series Book 1) Page 23
