The Crabs of Bangui

Chapter Five

41 Chapter Five O ne day at about noon a black Land Cruiser drove up to the kerb in front of the bank and stopped. Peeping from his window from the first floor, Hansel saw two men climb down and enter the building. They soon reappeared in front of the Bank Manager’s office where they informed the security officer of their desire to talk to the manager. The security man went in and reported their presence. Presently the manager came to the door and ushered them in. One would have thought they were fleeing from the devastating rain that came down just as they were entering the main building housing the bank. For the past hour the weather had been terribly windy, files were thrown open and loose leaves blown off and scattered across the office. Sometimes the wind could blow and then subside without any rain. But this time, the rain came down even while the wind was still blowing. Curtains were blown through the windows and left suspending horizontally like tiny tents on invisible poles. Through the leafy branches of the pine trees it blew like a swarm of locusts. There were three chairs in front of the Manager. The two men chose the two extremes and placed their bags in the middle chair. They proceeded to introduce themselves: One of them called himself Jean-Claude Atangana. He was a tall unsmiling middle-aged man with a face infested with wrinkles and pimples, a thin skinny neck and an ill-fitting charcoal grey suit. He had long fingers with nails that were brown at the tip, a strong indication that the man must be a heavy smoker. The other man, a head shorter, sturdily built, 42 Linus T. Asong very dark in complexion with reddish lips, almost Mongolian eyes and a head that had the shape of an inverted pear, was called Theophile Andre-Jules Meboka. They both spoke like people who wielded a lot of authority in their lives, and you got the idea that they were people who were used to being instantly obeyed. They were not only members of the Central Committee but also from the Politburo. They both carried black leather brief cases which gave them a very business-like outlook. Each of the bags bore the Party emblem as well as the national flag. Their clothes were very carefully ironed, although they gave the impression that they must have been to the pressing not a few times only. They were both heavily perfumed. They were Franco-phones and even though they spoke such clean English, the French accent was unmistakable. “I am pleased to meet you, sirs,” the manager rose with some trepidation in his voice. “I feel flattered that members of the political bureau would be visiting a poor banker like myself. What can I do for you, sirs?” The man called Theophile Andre-Jules Meboka spoke for them both, adjusting his tie to make his voice very clear: “You know that the President has thrown open the campaigns for Presidential and Legislative elections.” His tone made it a question. The manager bit his lower lip for a while and he found himself unconsciously but nervously tapping his pen against his forehead “It’s been in the news,” the manager said in a voice a little louder than he was used to because the rain was beating so hard against the windows that he needed to shout, being a man with a small voice. They all waited until they could hear each other without undue strain. “So where does the bank come in, sir?” “Well, let me know, what is the balance sheet of this bank.” 43 The Crabs of Bangui “The balance sheet of the bank?” the manager was sure he didn’t hear him correctly. The man nodded. “The assets of the bank, if you like,” Jean-Claude put in with his deep sonorous voice. “The balance sheet.” The manager looked at both men and then asked: “What for?” He had wanted to say the information was a bank secret, but he recalled that it was even available in the newspapers. He pulled out a file which he threw open with nervous fingers. He handed it over to the man and the two of them studied it for a long time and then Jean-Claude asked: “How much of this can you make available to help the...