Flash Political Fiction from Kinshasa: “Uncle Nico” by RICH NGAPI (last of three-part series)

Photoillustration by Barly Baruti

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Original Title: “Oncle  Nico (III)”

By RICH NGAPI

Translated from the French by Alex Engwete

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This is the beginning of the end. We are buckling the buckle of the political adventures of “Uncle Nico.” Lifelong but abortive candidate to the manifold governments, from Gizenga I and II, down to Muzito I, II, and soon, III. As the meeting with he who “pulls the strings” on behalf of people to the Moral Authority in high hopes of being appointed minister in the future government of the “last chance” midwifed a dud, Uncle Nico ended up disgruntled.

And yet the man was given all the assurances of the world. He’d started dreaming big. One day, he even dreamed aloud, as he crossed the very majestic Boulevard du 30 Juin. He was nearly run over by a nutty road hog, since, as he was already a minister in his head, he was crossing the boulevard in His Excellency’s gait. And all the vehicles, driving both ways on the eight lanes of the boulevard, had to stop to let him jaywalk. He didn’t give a shit, despite the rain of insults coming out of the big mouths of pissed-off drivers.

Yeah. Ever since, to politely discourage and sideline him, the “recruiter and string-puller” of the Presidential Majority had told him that ministerial positions were “services to be rendered,” Uncle Nico has become a spaced-out, overwhelmed man. He’s telling his story to whomever would care to listen. He even gives the account of his misadventures to 5-year-old kids. Yeah! Weighing his age and his experience against anything else, he didn’t deserve the treatment he got from the Presidential Majority.

The previous day, his nephew Tony, his famous personal secretary, had told his mother’s brother the story of an episode of the life of Socrates, a Greek philosopher of the 5^th century BC. At 70, Socrates had to defend himself before the judges to avoid capital punishment required by his accusers. At the end of the trial, Socrates accepted the sentence philosophically. Here’s how he pleads, for example, for “non-remunerative service”:    

“And as you will not easily find another like me, I would advise you to spare me… And that I am given to you by God is proved by this: - that if I had been like other men, I should not have neglected all my own concerns, or patiently seen the neglect of them during all these years, and have been doing yours, coming to you individually, like a father or elder brother, exhorting you to regard virtue; this I say, would not be like human nature... And I have a witness of the truth of what I say; my poverty is a sufficient witness.” Uncle Nico has understood his nephew’s lesson. He stoically swallows the bitter pill. Just as Socrates swallowed hemlock.

(End)

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Flash Political Fiction from Kinshasa: “Uncle Nico” by RICH NGAPI (second of three-part Series)

 Illustration by Barly Baruti

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Original Title: “Oncle Nico (II)”

By RICH NGAPI

Translated from the French by Alex Engwete

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Vocabulary:

1) Giant eucalyptus: Kinshasa “nganda” (sidewalk bars) are often set up under the shade of trees.

2) Quartier 1 (Quartier Un) = Administrative quarter of the densely-populated N’Djili Commune, near the airport.

3) “Parlementaire debout” = untranslatable Congolese French political expression = literally, “parliamentarians standing on their own feet” = usually, unemployed wannabe-politicians who hang around squares and street corners to discuss politics and spread rumors. They are also the “anchors” and “reporters” of Radio-Trottoir, the Congolese grapevine.

  

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Promises are made to be kept. We now continue our account of the political adventures of Uncle Nico, perpetual but unsuccessful candidate to multiple government cabinets, from Gizenga I and II, down to Muzito I and II, and soon, III. Very reassured, at long last, about his prospects for making his entry into the future government of the “last chance,” Uncle Nico ended up disenchanted. For a seasoned politician of his caliber, the response given by the contact-recruiter of the Presidential Majority was too curt to be taken sitting down.  

And so, the old reflex to oppose everything, wherever and anywhere resurfaces from Uncle Nico’s inmost depths. The man had already been disappointed when told that prospective ministers were bound to disclose their assets before and after their tenure. Well, he could let that pass. What displeased Uncle Nico the most in the new setting was that one had to be content with one’s own salary. Just imagine: with a salary—solely. Bet it a minister’s salary.

This proposition, though fair and ethically sound for others, couldn’t sit well with an old politician, newly converted to the opposition, and who’s bracing for the third age. Nico knows how to negotiate his deals by raising the bar high up from the outset. “An old politician,” he mumbled and muttered to himself, “a patriarch of an old political party, has he not made a jackpot of his seventy years of age by only spending a few months as the head of a coalition government?”

Ultimately, Uncle Nico was confused, embarrassed. He can no longer make sense of what’s befalling him. He wondered whether it was the country that was out of luck or was it he, Uncle Nico, who had run out of luck with this new generation in charge. He, the man, who, like a magnet, used to attract a throng under the giant eucalyptus of Quartier Un, at N’Djili! They would come from the four corners of Kin-la-Belle, some in the morning, others at about noon-ish and one-ish, those “parlementaires debout” who hung on every single word Uncle Nico spoke… till nightfall.

Who would then pretend not to know about the feats of Uncle Nico? It is he who first spoke of convening in ex-Zaire the forum of truth known as the “Sovereign National Conference” that made it possible to switch from an arbitrary state to the rule of law and democracy.

Oh no! Uncle Nico is disgruntled. A political class that only shares the pieces of the pie among dinosaurs of the same breed makes him want to puke. He could measure the length of time of the wait he had to endure then, with the secret hope that the dawn of democracy would find him in still such good shape. Living and kicking. Standing. But alas! the new race of politicos has disappointed him.

(to be continued)    

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Flash Political Fiction from Kinshasa: “Uncle Nico” by RICH NGAPI (first of three-part series)

Photoillustration by Barly Baruti

Congolese graphic novelist and musician

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Kinshasa daily Le Potentiel has an op-ed column called Apostrophe. These days, Congolese reporter and columnist Rich Ngapi hosts that column. He recently wrote in that column a three-part series of flash political fiction that gives an insightful glimpse into the psyche of Congolese politicians. This is the first of the three-part series of Rich Ngapi's flash fiction. In order for the reader to grasp the historical and cultural contexts, I give a link to a very brief description of the "Sovereign National Conference." I also give right away the meaning of 3 underlined words and expressions in the order of their appearance in Ngapi's text:

1) Bureau: Congolese slang: Mistress.

2) Kin-La-Belle: "Kinshasa-the-beautiful," moniker of the Congolese capital city.

3) Moral Authority: Congolese political lingo: head of a political party, in this instance, Joseph Kabila.

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Original Title: "Oncle Nico (I)"

By Rich Ngapi

Translated from the French by Alex Engwete

Uncle Nico, a well-known old politician  in the heyday of the Sovereign National Conference. He’s the uncle of his nephew Tony. The latter, by dint of being around his mother’s brother, has turned into his private secretary of sorts. It’s he, Tony, who keeps all the sensitive dossiers of Uncle Nico, including the most confidential ones. He even manages his numerous “bureaus.” And, Uncle Nico has several of those, in almost every single commune of Kin-La-Belle, just like any other politician who respects himself. At 55 years of age, Uncle Nico has already “manufactured” 55 children. As if to say: one child a year if you begin the chores as early as the year of your birth. However, it’s not his libidinal exploit that’s of interest to us today. It’s rather his political ambitions.

As a possible government reshuffle had just been announced following the installation of the political bureau of the Presidential Majority (PM), Uncle Nico, like all the other ministrable candidates, has gone, in the dead of the night, to meet he who “pulls strings” on behalf of people to the Moral Authority so as to get appointed minister in this future government of the “last chance.”

His nephew told us more on this score: “My uncle ran many other errands for much needed recommendations, and string-pullers. He even had a letter signed by a man of God. He got all the assurances, all the promises of his witch doctor. And ‘Tonton Nico' (as he’s called by those closest to him) started dreaming big. He even daydreamed aloud. He’s already a minister in his head. In family gatherings, we overheard him talk of big villas, of luxury automobiles, of junkets abroad…”

The day of the rendezvous and at the agreed time, Uncle Nico goes to the “consultor” of the PM. Contrary to customary practice, Uncle Nico had to face a wholesome man who thinks himself every inch a democrat and not the least bit demagogue. From the get go, the man shocked Uncle Nico, everlasting but unsuccessful candidate, from the cabinets Gizenga I and II, down to Muzito I, II and soon III. The man was clamoring to the four winds that ministerial posts are “services to be rendered,” that is, sacrifices to be endured, and not recompenses for some previous merit.  This brand of inflexibility permeating this new breed of politicos, is a novel lesson for Uncle Nico. He was already disillusioned. For all the stances he’d taken at the Sovereign National Conference, his frenzy of activity in his political party close to the ruling majority, all his life, only aimed at drawing attention to his person. But for entitlements, with no strings attached.

(To be continued)

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