Chapter 6 – The Causalities Of War
In the 1960s, Kisangani had been important enough to merit direct attention from the capital, and each of the government's major departments had had their own separate building in the city.
But in the year 2005, Kisangani's prestige and the Congolese government's wealth had declined greatly, and now most of the departments were housed in one gigantic, beautiful but decaying building.
The most active departments were those of the Ministry of Health, Ministry of Communication, and Ministry of the Interior – with the latter being the busiest since it was also directly linked to the military.
Kem skips up the grime covered marble stairs until she reaches the Research and Studies office on the 3rd floor. She greets a few colleagues and places her study's progress reports on the Director's desk before she goes downstairs again and enters the Office of the Community.
The official function of the Office of the Community is to act as a triage point between the region's citizens and the different Ministry of Health services. It is the clerks' duty in that office to direct citizens to the department with the resources that could best solve that citizen's problems.
However, since most of the departments did not have any resources, the real job of the Office of the Community's clerks was to listen to citizens health-related complaints, cut them off after a few seconds, and hurry them out the door with empty promises of assistance from the correct departments and/or very real promises of police prosecution if they dared to persist in making future complaints.
As a result, what should have been one of the busiest offices in the city, received only a few naïve or desperate visitors each month.
As Kem enters the Office's front room, the clerks are engaged in their most pressing business of the day: gossip.
When they recognize Kem, they pretend to get back to work, while mumbling greetings in her direction.
Kem's knows that their greetings are, at best, perfunctory and not really sincere in their good intention.
She also knows that while it is true that a few of the clerks are jealous of her because of what they see as her stunning looks and lithe body, the majority of them resent her because instead of staying within the rules established by the system, she dares to challenge those rules and she seems to get away with it.
When John had proposed keeping records of the nameless victims who died at the clinic and storing those records in a location that would be easily accessible to members of the regional community, everyone, including Kem, had laughed.
But, she hadn't been able to stand the look of disappointment that had appeared on his face, so she resolved to ask around and she what she could do.
She had discovered that although the Ministry of Health used to have a facility for storing such records, seven years of almost continuous warfare had robbed the government of that aspect of its humanity, and the room had since been converted into a director's office.
Basically, she had to start from scratch.
For weeks, she lobbied, questioned, lobbied, and questioned some more until everyone decided that the best way to get rid of her was to give her what she wanted.
After all, a room for the dead was a small request, and she had proposed to personally perform all work associated with maintaining those files.
Kem and John were so happy that even when they saw the room's dilapidated condition and meager provisions it had done little to dampen their mood.
The musty smell of the room had almost been overwhelming, its walls were bare rock, and it was filled with cobwebs and menacing looking tropical spiders. But it was also, thankfully, mildew and rat free.
In addition, it was in a perfect location. It was located at the bottom of a stairwell that could only be accessed from the Office of the Community, which made it convenient for citizens to be directed to that space if they were searching for a deceased loved one without having to search through the maze of halls and rooms that constituted the remainder of the building.
Kem descends the second stairwell and opens the room's door. She walks over to the 40-year old filing cabinet and opens her bag.
Since the files do not have any name, they are organized by gender and age group. She knells down and starts to put the files in their proper places. Because she is focused on her task, she doesn't notice that a man has arrived and is leaning casually on one side of the door's frame.
Azel Mkese stands in the doorway and silently observes Kem as she works.
As Deputy Director of the Ministry of Communication, he is one of the ten most important men in Kisangani.
His family administers a small rubber plantation outside of Kinshasa, therefore he comes from a modestly wealthy and modestly influential background.
However, he has greater ambitions.
As such, he studied hard and was admitted into some of the best private schools in Africa. He even studied in Europe.
When his studies concluded, he dutifully returned home to try to acquire an influential post in the Congo - one that, preferably, did not involve military service. After all, even officers are not immune to bullets.
It took two years for the right position to present itself, and when it did he pursued it with the full force of all of his capabilities.
His efforts were rewarded and three months ago he was appointed the Deputy Minister of Communication for the Kisangani region.
Although, many men with his background, would have considered being a Deputy Minister in Kisangani as a form of exile, Azel was smart enough to recognize it for what it really was – an opportunity.
While it was true that the most prestigious posts for Deputy Ministers were in Kinshasa, Azel had found that it was not to his best advantage to seek such a position in the capital.
As the war and the economy had worsened, it had become customary over the last few months for full ministers to blame their incompetence and failures on their deputies, who were then either promptly fired or demoted.
But a deputy minister in Kisangani was considered too inconsequential to be a suitable scapegoat for ministers in Kinshasa, which meant that he was safe from that aspect of Congolese politics.
Instead, he could relax, enjoy his regional authority, and bide his time as he looked for the right opportunity that would take him back to the capital as a full director.
From the moment he had first seen Kem, he knew that she would be a key in getting him that opportunity.
Her delicate looks, honey-colored skin, and European pedigree would make the exclusive society of Kinshasa's wealthy elite curious about her and in high demand at various functions and parties, thereby giving him an opportunity to rub shoulders with the country's most influential powerbrokers.
As he stands in the door, he knows his first order of business is to figure out how to win her to his side.
"Don't you look lovely today," he calls out.
Kem is not facing the door so the voice startles her at first, but she immediately recognizes its deep timber and slight African accent.
"But, that is nothing new. Loveliness seems to be your natural state of being", he says smarmily.
Kem is thankful that she skipped lunch as she represses the urge to vomit. Even if she were not involved with John, she would never respond positively to Azel's advances. He was the kind of man who made her skin crawl. He was a cad – she knew from office gossip that he had slept with most of the female clerks in the building – and he was a hopeless narcissist.
"Good afternoon, Deputy Minister", she says in a neutral voice.
"Azel", he says. "You may call me Azel."
"Right", she says as she bites her tongue to keep from uttering a flippant response to his statement. She had wanted to call him Azzol, but it probably wouldn't do her any good to piss off one of the 10 most important men in the region.
She decides that the best thing to do is not to say anything more. Instead, she refocuses her concentration on finishing her filing. She hopes that her non-conversational mood will convince him to go away.
"You know", he says and she is disappointed to hear his voice again, "you are not like the other women here. They are genuinely glad to see me."
Well, she thought. He may be an egotist but, unfortunately, he's fairly observant.
"But you", he continues, "even though you know who I am, my rank, my power, you refuse even my most innocent of advances." He pauses to give to give a dramatic edge to his next statement. "That's impressive. That means that you know your worth."
She looks down and sees that she still has 2 files left to put in their places.
For a second, she debates if she should put them back in her bag, push past Azel, and get the heck out of the building. But, she steadies herself. She refuses to be intimidated.
When she still doesn't say anything, Azel says casually, "You know - I have knowledge, power that would be of use to you."
She knows that his last statement is very true. However, she also knows herself well enough to know that she is not willing to pay the price he's asking in order to get those things, so she remains silent unwilling to take the bait.
However Azel interprets her silence as an invitation to prove himself.
"I just learned that the rebels have advanced within 300 miles of the city", he announces gleefully. He is proud of the fact that he is one of only a handful of people with this information.
But his statement doesn't impress Kem, rather it sends a shock through her heart.
"They've never come closer than 1000 miles in the past", she says worriedly.
"True. They are proving to be quite cunning and resourceful as of late. They've even be able to quicken their advance to a rate of 10-15 miles a day with this latest foray. But no worries, the government is laying a trap that will crush them when they get 100 miles out."
Now all warning bells had been sounded in her mind.
"The government is deliberately going to let them get within a hundred miles of the city?" she asks in disbelief.
He hears the concern in her voice and he tries to comfort her. "At a hundred miles away, there is only the remotest of possibilities that the fighting will even affect the city. Even if they did get closer, everyone is certain that they would not attack Kisangani. They simply don't have the resources necessary to accomplish such a feat," he says in a firm and unworried tone.
"Yes, but the refugee camp…" she says before she is interrupted.
"Refugee camp?" he asks in a puzzled voice.
"Yes, the one that houses 6000 people", she says. She is miffed because this 'powerful' man has chosen to have amnesia about the condition of so many people in his region.
"Oh…", he says dismissively. "The camp is only 10 miles outside of town, which means that it is still a great distance away from the fighting", he says as he hopes to curtail any further protests from her.
"Yes, but now it potentially sits in the middle of two warring factions. And, unlike Kisangani, the camp is easy prey should the government's plan fail", she says defiantly.
However, she can tell from the look on his face that she has not had any luck in getting him to understand the danger for the refugees.
She pauses as she thinks of a new tactic to try with him.
"Will the military be able to evacuate the camps in time?" she asks in a hopeful tone.
He scoffs before he answers her. "The military is busy fighting a war. They can't possibly spare the resources at this time for such an effort."
"Well, will your office make this information known to the camp's inhabitants should the rebels advance closer to the city?" she asks. She is careful to keep her tone musical and friendly, which is difficult because his nonchalance about these people's fates is making her feel bitter and disgusted. Even so, she knows that expressing those emotions won't help those people.
"We'll make some announcements on T.V. and in the paper. Send out some runners to the camp", but he as he says this he is waving his hand in a nonchalant gesture which indicates that nothing will be done. His tone and gesture demonstrate to her that those people's fates really don't concern him at all.
"Without the assistance of the military, of the government, where will these people go?" she says in a soft, imploring voice as she tries gently to remind him to act mercifully.
"They will go will they always go…somewhere else", he replies indifferently.
She bites back the urge to call him the worst part of a monkey's bottom, and instead, gives him a slight nod.
She turns away from him as she concentrates on filing the records as fast as is humanely possible so that she can get out of there.
Azel realizes that she has actually been offended by his last remarks, and he raises his eyebrows in mild disgust. He had meant for his knowledge of the rebels' gains to impress her, and not for it to be used as a pretext for a debate over government policy.
He continues staring at her as she goes about her work.
He starts to think about how much he desires this woman or, more to the point, how much he desires what this woman can do for him. However, her streak of idealism combined with an uncompromising independence is something that he finds very unhealthy; especially in a woman.
He is convinced that her parents failed in her upbringing. However, he is equally convinced that she can still be taught the correct way to behave and that he is just the man to teach her. As he finishes this last thought, he starts to advance towards Kem.
He has shared valuable information with her, now it is time for her to share with him - nothing much just a touch…or two.
Kem feels the coolness of the shadow cast by his 6'1 frame as he closes the small space between her and the door. She jumps quickly to her feet and takes a few steps back until she is close to the side wall and cannot move any further.
He stops as he takes the time to relish her predicament, and she looks into his eyes. As she peers deeply into them she understands.
He wants to touch her. He means to touch her. And, although, she might be able to kick and bite him, there is little else that her 5'1 90 lb. frame would be able to do about it.
He would have what he wanted and her efforts would not be able to stop him.