I met them in a small town in the heart of Africa. I had been working in the town of Massetto for five years prior to meeting them, and during those years I had witnessed severe injustice and cruelty of which I too was complicit. Magnum, the company I worked for, was an international technology giant, who, like its counterparts in the town, derived much of its wealth from cobalt, an invaluable mineral dug up, along with some other coveted minerals, from the underbelly of the town. Besides Westerners like myself, companies here hired local hands, who did most of the dirtier work for very little pay. Worse, local workers who were deemed slacking were beaten brutally, and many died from their injuries. The companies involved were never held accountable for these ill treatments.
For a town that had such invaluable and highly sought-after minerals, one would have expected Massetto to be prosperous. But, like several mineral-rich places in the Democratic Republic of Congo, this town was plagued by tribulations rather than blessed with wealth. Militia groups of Rwandan and Congolese origins often used the small town as one of their battlegrounds, fighting, among other things, for the spoils of the mineral-rich country. The international companies busied themselves with fierce competitions for even larger shares of the mineral deposits within the regions, never considering the locals who slaved away for the material benefits of these countries, nor their environment which suffered more degradation each passing day thanks to the mining activities of these companies.
The politicians lobbied these companies for higher percentage cuts from mining proceeds, and when they got this, they used the money, not to develop the country, but to live lavishly themselves. Here in Massetto, the town's Mayor and his district officials received handsome payments monthly directly from the international companies, besides that gotten from the Congolese government. This town had the highest deposit of cobalt, and Chinese companies saw it as a place of utmost priority, and thus sought the continued cooperation of its politicians. They also offered military support to ward off the M23 and other rebel groups that disturbed the area. Magnum was the only American company based in this town, and we ensured we contributed our quota to the smooth running of mining operations here by never defaulting on our corporate taxes, even though we knew the government would use them for no good. However, we, like most others, maltreated our local workers, and neglected their health.
It was under these conditions that I met them. Mona, Masamba and Kendi were beggars who regularly witnessed the violence and injustices going on in their town, Massetto. I first met Mona, through whom I met Masamba and Kendi. I did some integrity tests on them to be sure I could entrust them with a plan I had hatched. And their being able to read and write made things even easier for me.
MONA
My father gave me this name, Mona, on the third day after I was born. It means ‘to see’, and, indeed, I have seen a lot. Our small town, Massetto, has experienced disaster three times since I was born. Not natural disasters. Human-made ones. Those caused by disputes over mining rights and the control of natural resources. My father lost his life having been caught between one of these conflicts, and mother died of a stroke a year later, leaving myself and my younger brother to the mercy of relatives who could barely fend for their own selves. I left my brother in the care of a granduncle and took to the streets, begging for alms.
MASAMBA
I lived with an uncle from my childhood up till when I was a teenager. According to him, my mother disappeared a few months after I was born, and my father, who was part of a rebel force, was killed in a clash with government security forces when I was two years old. My uncle was not the kindest of humans, and sometimes I hated him for what I thought was cruelty in the way he treated me. But he gave me food, clothes, and a roof over my head. Considering the impoverished state of Massetto’s masses, it took big sacrifices on his part to provide those. Sadly, he died at a mining site when a bridge collapsed on him and fellow miners. And then, for reasons I do not know, the house we had lived in was demolished by the government.
KENDI
As a toddler, I lived with an aunt who spoke little. She told me nothing about my parents, no matter how much I prodded. She enrolled me in an elementary school, and had me accompany a relative to work on his farm in the afternoons and on weekends. I grew tired of working under scorching heat and ran away from home at the age of twelve. That was thirty years ago. I've lived on the streets ever since.
NARRATOR
My plan for Massetto was simple, or so I thought. The Mayor and his cabinet were setting up a state-owned mining company (perhaps the royalties they got from the mining done on their land was no longer enough). I had made friends with some government officials and aides and thus got insider information that the officials planned to bypass certain regulatory processes and were making no plans for environmental preservation. The polluted state of Massetto's environment was pitiful. I wanted to do something about it, and I needed as much resources as I could get. What better source to get the funding from, I thought, than those who should be responsible for the environment?
I had previously solicited funds from the government through my company for environmental rehabilitation projects and gotten denied. Now my plan was to get the funding from them through stealth. Once my goal was achieved, I would of course have to get permits from the same government before embarking on any projects. In securing the permits, I would make it clear that whatever I intended to do would be in the government’s name. And why not, since I would be using their money anyway, albeit unknown to them?
The three beggars, Mona, Masamba and Kendi, were the missing pieces of my game plan. I had already assembled a small team of security specialists, cyber security experts, marketers and ex-labourers. Among these were some Congolese, a Chinese man and a few Americans like myself who felt disturbed by the deplorable environmental state of the town.
When the government-owned company began operations, all operational processes would be closely monitored by my insiders and we would strike at the perfect time: when the refined minerals were being transported to buyers. We would intercept transportation, seize these minerals and have them sold to black market dealers. If the first operation was successful, we would carry out even more from time to time.
MONA
There was an American who had suddenly developed a dutiful interest in giving me money almost everyday. One day he introduced himself to me as Mr. White, and told me he had plans to fix the polluted Massetto environment. He said I had qualities, such as honesty and resilience, which he believed would prove quite helpful if I accepted to take a part in his mission— sabotaging the greedy politicians who were constantly seeking out new ways to impoverish the townspeople while fattening their own wallets. I agreed to join him, and he asked me to introduce him to any like-minded fellows I knew...
MASAMBA
Following the death of my uncle and the demolition of our house, I took to the streets, doing menial jobs, and sometimes begging for alms when I found nothing else profitable to do. It was on the said streets that I met Mona.
I was retiring for the night in my little tent when a woman about my age walked up and asked to spend the night in my tent, seeing as it was threatening to rain and her own tent had been destroyed beyond repair by the elements the previous night. I agreed to let her in after warning her sternly that I would find and harm her if I woke up the next day to find anything missing from my tent.
That night, we talked a lot about our personal experiences in Massetto and about the world beyond our town. She fell asleep at some point during our long discussion and somehow I went to bed myself without the fear of waking up to find anything missing. When I woke up the next morning, she had tidied the tent as best as she could and then, after thanking me profusely for my kindness, offered to share her small loaf of bread with me. I jokingly asked her whether she was trying to be my wife.
‘Itakuwa heshima,’ (Swahili: ‘It would be an honour.’) she said with a light laugh.
We met many times after that, and on one of those occasions, she told me she knew a man who was capable of solving the problem of environmental pollution in our town which seemed to us to be the cause of various illnesses as well as a lack of quality drinking water in the town. I followed her to the man, and on the way, we met and took along another acquaintance...
KENDI
My aunt made no attempt (at least none that I know of) to look for me after I absconded. I lacked the physical strength for certain tedious jobs, so I would go from place to place, offering to help people clear grass or sweep their surroundings for a fee. On days when I found no single person who needed my service, I would simply sit on the streets begging. At first I lived in an abandoned building which had no roof. The building was thus of no use to me during heavy rain or intense sunshine. After a while, I totally forgot about the building and stuck to finding shelters to sleep with my few belongings.
One day, I was very hungry, and had no means of procuring food. I had gone to beg the woman from whose store I regularly purchased my daily bread, often on credit, but found her store closed for the day. I was wandering about, wondering if I was finally going to be killed by hunger, when I saw a man eating boiled cassava by the roadside. I approached him and stated my predicament, begging for some of the cassava. He laughed and told me he was also a beggar but would share his meal with me. He told me his name, which was Masamba, and asked for mine. We became friends after that and would often help each other out when there was a need. Then one day I met him on the road with a lady whom he introduced to me as Mona. He told me he met her some weeks after meeting me and said she was taking him to a white man who claimed to have solutions to the environmental problems of our small town. They bid me to come along and I obliged...
MR. WHITE
The three of them were visibly skeptical when I told them my plans. Of course, they really welcomed a solution, any solution, to their town's problems, but they saw easily the risks involved in this venture. We were up against the government, and if anything went wrong, they, in particular, would be done for. I and the other foreigners had privileges that could protect us if we got in any trouble–even if we were in the wrong, and so it was the locals who were in the greatest danger. However, they did not turn back.
I thought I had made sufficient contingency plans, but there were still some surprises encountered in the course of the mission. First, after carrying out viability surveys on the concession issued to the company (by the owners of the company, the government), the surveyors decided that the first operation wasn't worth going ahead with. This caused my inside- team to relax a little, only to be thrown off balance when the surveyors suddenly made a U-turn and recommended that the operation be carried out.
Next, a faction of the rebel forces, M23, intercepted the transportation of mined ore, nearly subduing the government's security forces, of which Masamba was part. The company's convoy, however, escaped, and, in fact, the attack proved advantageous to us, as Masamba witnessed first hand how his fellow security agents fought, and thus devised ways to disarm them. However, this was eventually not necessarily, for although we could not find a perfect way to achieve our aim in the first mining operation, our chance came during the second.
Kendi was with the local underpaid miners who worked in the fields, helping to extract valuable ore for processing. Masamba was still with the security forces, and was tasked by the company to guard a dummy convoy meant to throw potential attackers off balance in the next operation, which involved gold mining; the government was taking extra precautions on this one, following the incident involving the last, and especially since it involved gold, a more valuable mineral than copper, which was mined the last time. However, the team of seven men I had assembled, besides Mona, Masamba and Kendi, were able to find loopholes in the government's arrangement. Neither the dummy convoy nor the real one suffered any attacks, but the real convoy made a stop for a security check on the way to deposit the gold at the refinery. After the check, they continued their journey with gold-polished stones, rather than the real minerals.
The Mayor and his cabinet were furious when they realised the scam, and immediately launched an inquiry. Somehow, I had alibis concocted for everyone on my team involved, and when the matter had died down, we resold the gold in the black market through a team of negotiators led by Mona, whom I had painstakingly trained for such business.
MONA
Masamba and Kendi were with me when we successfully sold the gold off to black market buyers. The cash was raw, and they asked whether we were going to share the money. I had to remind them of the purpose of our mission, and yet, Kendi argued that the white man could not be trusted and was only using us. Deep down, I wanted the money too; there was a whole lot of good I could do for myself with all those dollars...
MASAMBA
Kendi and I accompanied Mona, a Chinese agent, and two Americans, to negotiate a deal for the gold with the black market buyers, posing as security to ensure negotiations went smoothly. On our way back, the three of us sat with the Chinese agent inside the back of the van, the raw cash in our midst, while the two Americans used the driver’s and passenger’s seats. When the Chinese man dozed off, I and Kendi spoke to Mona in Swahili about taking some of the money for ourselves. We spoke in whispers to avoid any chances of being overhead by those at the front, although there was a partition between us and them. When Mona argued against us taking some of the money for ourselves, I thought seriously about sabotaging the entire mission and absconding with the money. As if knowing my thoughts, Kendi put a hand on my shoulder and whispered something...
KENDI
‘For the greater good, of which we will still be partakers.’
I said the words to Masamba during an argument between both of us and Mona that was now becoming tense. At first, I wanted a part of the money too; I had dreams of getting married, having children and sending them to schools abroad. But then I reasoned that if the white man was indeed being honest with us, and if we could gain his trust, we might indeed find more ways to make money without betraying him. For one thing, he had already taken us off the streets andrefined us, unlike the gold we had just sold off. It was now left to us to show whether we wanted to remain in his good books or not. Mona seemed eager to remain in his good books. I wanted the same, and that statement to Masamba was enough to have us all on the same page again.
MR WHITE
Unknown to the three, the Chinese who was seated in the van with them was a polyglot who understood English, Swahili and some other local languages. When they had their conversation about taking some of the money from our operation, he had only pretended to be sleeping and had overheard all they said despite their lowered voices. He relayed everything to me to make my judgement.
When we got the money, I established a private non-profit company in Massetto to carry out my objective of environmental reforms after fulfilling necessary governmental protocols. It's been two years since, and with extra help from local and international sponsors, the town has begun to look better.
I also established an agricultural company in another town in Congo with the savings I had garnered before quitting my job at Magnum. Employed and well-paid in this company are Mona, Masamba and Kendi, besides other individuals whose loyalty helped that mission.
