The Kinshasa Trip
By Dickson Jere
The business proposal we went to present was huge – in the range of USD 2 billion. So, we were advised that “first impression” was everything in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), and therefore we needed to arrive with pomp.
My friend chartered a brand new Gulfstream 650 Jet, with five crew members. We were only two passengers, dressed up for the rare occasion of “meeting” then DRC President Joseph Kabila.
On arrival in Kinshasa, we were received by putative high-ranking “officials” with a quarter-guard of the military mounted just outside the plane stairs. We walked past as we got the military salutes to the waiting limousine enroute to the meeting. While in the speeding motorcade, we were told the President was busy and that we will “Rendezvous” at the Hotel Intercontinental for few minutes until we get cleared. Upon arrival at the hotel, we found out that we were accorded about 15 security officers attached to our two-man delegation.
“I am Major. I will be responsible for your security with my team during your stay in Kinshasa,” he said, with very good command of English language.
Major, turned out to be of Zambian descent from Chilenje, but very guarded about his background and on how he found himself in the VIP protection unit in the DRC. He spoke good Nyanja too!
Anyway, the” few minutes” wait became two days – we were marooned at the hotel – although our plan was to depart Kinshasa the same day after the meeting, which was confirmed for 10:00 hours that very day.
It then turned out that the 15-man security had to be fed by us as well as foot their daily allowances of USD 180 with Major at the rate of USD 200.
“The chief will see you soon…” Major kept assuring us, as he walked around the hotel lobby while speaking on his noise walktakie.
At several intervals we were hurriedly moved into our cars enroute to the Presidential palace but no sooner had the cars started revving than we were told to stand down because the “chief” had to deal with an emergency matter that had just come up.
Meanwhile, at the airport, “our” plane was under guard by 5 heavily armed soldiers, the captain informed us. They had to be fed too by us, including their daily allowances.
Day three and no sign of the meeting but just strong assurances that it will take place.
“My friend, we are fucked…. I am running out of cash,” my mate-cum-Client whispered to me. We had to abandon the mission.
The aircraft Bill was running outside his initial budget as we planned for one-day use but now we were on day three with hourly charges plus crew upkeep, which was not on the budget.
My friend has “F” words in his vocabulary especially when upset. And they started coming out! We had to look for clothes and toiletries as we did not carry any luggage.
On day four, we sat on the plane in readiness to fly back to South Africa. As we were about to taxi, the plane was stopped. A presidential aide, whom we both knew, got on board and gave us bear hugs.
“Apologies, the President is not in Kinshasa…,” he said, advising us to fly to Goma if we really wanted to see him. There was miscommunication about our arrival dates, we were told. My friend already forked USD50,000 in South Africa which he paid the “intermediary” who organized our trip and the aborted meeting with the President.
“Next time boss…” my friend answered.
As soon as the powerful aide left the plane, two armed officers entered.
“You have not paid the bill…” one said.
“Which bill?” my friend inquired.
When we landed Kinshasa, we were told, did not pay the allowances for the quarter guard that welcomed us as well as the protocol people who were off-duty but called to receive us at short notice.
USD 25,000 Bill. The plane was stopped on the tarmac just few meters away from the runway. Scores of gun-trotting soldiers surrounded the plane.
(Excerpt from my forthcoming Book). File photo