The young man, with his tied back dreads and navy blue, button-up shirt, its sleeves rolled up, seemed to be a contrast to his surroundings. A large, ornately furnished office. The biggest piece of furniture in the room was the oval, rosewood desk that he sat at. The desk itself stood atop a circular, crimson rug.How tiring,he thought to himself with a sigh. With his left hand he rubbed his temple, while in his right hand, he held an open folder. Contained within it was pages showing printed tables of figures and names. The door opened and his eyes flicked upwards.
“Naledi,” he said.
In walked a dreadlocked woman in her twenties. She was dressed simply in all black, from her t-shirt, to her jeans and down to her sneakers. She walked right up to the table, sat on top of it and leaned over to look at the folder in his hand, then met his eyes.
“You look washed, Kiarie,” she said.
Kiarie gave a dry chuckle, “I’d sleep for a week right now if I could.”
Naledi let out a long breath with a shake of her head, “right? We just managed to pull off a coup, but that seems like nothing now with what we’re currently facing.”
“I expected as much to be honest,” Kiarie replied and twisted his lips, “but the sheer scale of it! It’s disgusting to behold.” He threw down the folder and crossed his arms, “politicians I swear. These bastards basically entrenched themselves into the nation’s economy, then proceeded to leech off of all of us, like ticks that grew bigger than the dog.”
Naledi picked up the folder and flipped through its contents, “and they had lots of help too. There’s hardly a prominent businessman, or woman, thatdidn’tmake it to this list.”
Kiarie closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, with arms still crossed and his face tilted upwards. “We need to press down on these MPs and get back the offshore money.”
“Should that really be a priority right now?” Naledi asked.
“It’s too big of an amount to just leave alone.”
“True, but overseas money in foreign banks is an international issue. Without the cooperation of the parliamentarians, it will take time. Time we really can’t afford to take.”
Kiarie opened his eyes and gave her a side glance, “there is a way to make them cooperate and speed up the process.”
Naledi was quiet for a few seconds as she met his gaze. When she spoke, it was with the care of someone weighing and measuring each word, “Kiarie…going down that road…can backfire in too many ways. I advise against it.”
Kiarie scoffed and sat up with his arms uncrossed, “you and I both know it would be the least of what they deserve.”
“And you and I both know that, that isn’t the main issue at hand.”
Kiarie clicked his tongue, “yeah you’re right, I know you’re right.” He leaned back in his chair, “OK, so what else can we do instead?”
Naledi heaved a small breath of relief, “we managed to seize most of their local assets, with the help of the Assets Recovery Agency. We can focus on liquidating those in the meantime.”
“Yeah but not all of them, otherwise we risk losing control of the economy.”
“And with that in mind, I already got started on a list of what to sell and what to leave in tact.”
Kiarie smiled, “Naledi, where would we all be without you?”
Naledi smirked, “you’d probably be stuck somewhere, making lots of effort and getting nothing done.”
Kiarie laughed, “come to think of it, that has happened a few times before, hasn’t it?”
The door burst open and a man similar in age to Kiarie and Naledi strode in. He was short haired and dressed in an official white shirt, paired with grey pants and brown loafers. There was urgency in his step and worry written all over his face.
“Kibunja,” Naledi said, “what’s the matter?”
Kibunja stopped about a metre from the table, and his eyes flicked back and forth between Naledi and Kiarie, “have you seen the news?”
“No,” Kiarie replied, “I’d rather not see any screens at the moment.”
Kibunja stepped closer to the table and pulled out his phone from his pocket, “well, you’re gonna want to see this.”
Kiarie sat up and held out his hand to receive the phone. Kibunja placed it in his palm and took a step back with his hands on his waist. Kiarie leaned back and stared down at the phone in silence. A few moments later, his face took on a serious cast and he looked up at Kibunja.
“Is this true?”
Kibunja nodded, “Uganda’s president held a press conference literally five minutes ago. He declared that Migingo and Sumba island are property of the state, so therefore, they would be claiming them.”
“What!?” Naledi snatched the phone out of Kiarie’s hand and started scrolling down on the article.
“What about our guys in NIS? What are they saying?” Kiarie asked.
“Just before I got here, they confirmed to me that Uganda’s Armed Forces have begun to mobilize.”
“Fuck,” Kiarie cursed and bounded up out of his seat. He rounded the table and flicked his fingers. His black trench coat flew off the coatrack, which was standing to the side of the room, to his outstretched hand as he proceeded to the door.
“It’s not even been three fucking days!”
Kibunja took back his phone and caught up with Kiarie as he reached the door and opened it.
“Are you headed to DOD?”
“Yeah,” Kiarie replied, “gotta go see the general.”
Kiarie stopped outside the door and turned his head to look back, “Naledi, I’m counting on you to hold down the fort.”
“Right,” she replied.