should be celebrating what I’ve built. Yet the people complain, the journalists ask aggressive questions about safety, and the parliamentarians make dull enquiries into budgets and fiscal what-whats. It’s all so dry, so regulated.
Their moans and groans don’t matter now anyway. The Department of Security has cleared an area for the zoo, with a special underground bunker for getting the creatures’ food in and out. We made sure that it doubles as an escape route for me, and with the bunker and the additional fencing that it needed, it’s clear that these are vital security upgrades for the property.
If I don’t lock up my beautiful beasts just right, the community could be in danger, and so could I. We can’t have a flying lion on the loose near to the poisonous penguins, now can we? The village would be terrified. And what if that giant tar-eating spider gets out? The roads will be a mess … Well, worse than they are already. The fire pool is a necessary part of the emergency aquatic tank backup system.
I look out my window at the green lawns, white-and-red rose bushes, perfect rows of lavender lining the paths, just a few police officers standing guard in the far distance. I wonder what it might be like to be a wolf, running free, hunting in a pack instead of all alone.
Friday is right around the corner. I should be excited, but it’s fatigue that presses down on my diaphragm. Still, I must soldier on, for my guests. I’m trying to keep the event subtle but classic. I’ve purchased two hundred bottles of Moët, and a bit of caviar from that place I like in Mhlanga. I had hoped the launch of my menagerie would take some of the negativity out of the news. But now these damn students are threatening the peace I’ve tried to create.
I thought I’d inspire people with the flesh-eating caterpillars and the electric python. As for the telepathic cuttlefish, well, I’m not quite sure how they’ve worked out that it is telepathic, but who am I to doubt the Russians? Vlad gave me such a good price on the animals, which are technically rescues since they had to close the zoos. Nobody’s reporting on that part of my philanthropy.
‘Alice?’
‘Your Excellency?’
‘Please can you bring in today’s papers and some more of this tea. It’s so hot in here today, it feels like someone has turned the heater on.’
She sidles in, dropping the papers on my desk, and replacing my empty dewy glass with an ice-cold full one. She’s gone before I get a chance to talk to her about my speech, and what I read in the papers makes me too angry to call her back.
They are all full of images of the protestors; that boy and Sindiwe are on just about every front page. She looks just like her father, I can’t help but notice. Like her father, she’s a problem, and so is that boy. It must be addressed.
I too used to enjoy being the centre of attention, but it’s nice to have a break. Half the time it’s like I am the only story the media cares to cover, and they don’t do it honestly. They must have a thousand photos of me looking confused on file, and others where I’ve blinked and they claim that I’m sleeping. Sometimes I have bad hiccups and the media portrays it as though I am laughing, when it is just a case of a temperamental diaphragm. They are cruel to their dedicated leader, but I decided long ago not to dignify their idiotic articles with a response. Fake news, all of it.
I notice Hlanganyeti, the zookeeper, standing talking to Msizi, my groundsman. I inherited them from the previous president; both were gardeners on the estate. To me they always look like they’re up to something devious, spending too much time talking with each other and too little time doing their separate jobs separately. I must keep an eye on them on Friday. I have enough to worry about without them getting in the way.
Maybe, just maybe, when this zoo launch is done, I can finally take a break from all this. Go somewhere … cooler. I saw how Vlad smiled at me and can’t help but remember how tightly he squeezed my hand when we shook for that trade deal. I picture us together, escaping the heat somewhere up north, sipping on some hot black tea and smiling at each other.
This heat is going to my head.
I put my empty glass down on Sindiwe’s newsprint face, but I don’t feel better. I can’t let these students spoil my special event. They must be stopped, sooner rather than later. I need to hit them where it hurts. Lizards can run without their tails, but not without their heads.
‘Alice! Get me the Minister of Police on the phone. Tell her it’s urgent, and bring me the secure line. I don’t want this recorded.’
‘Yes, Your Excellency.’
Alice walks in with the secure phone on a tray that she holds with both delicate hands. As I reach for it, I’m embarrassed when my dry ageing hands brush her young smooth ones.
‘The minister’s ready on the line when you are, Your Excellency.’
‘Thank you, Alice. Close the door on your way out, will you?’
‘So sorry, Your Excellency, but I forgot to tell you earlier. Maintenance are busy adjusting all of the joints on the doors so they asked us not to close anything too tight, in case we can’t open it again.’
‘Just close it over a little then, thank you.’
‘Yes, Your Excellency. I can always leave my office if you need more privacy?’
I shake my head and she leaves, propping the door open just a little. As I pick up, I look outside my window and see Hlanganyeti and Msizi have gone. That’s one thing off my plate.
Now to sort out this student mess and remind some people who have forgotten that I am in charge. They put themselves at risk if they don’t heed my instructions.
CHAPTER 5
Ray
Noluthando hands me the phone, her normally friendly face collapsing in on itself with concern. When I see who is on the line, my first thoughts are of Sindiwe and whether she’s safe. That much has not changed, over twenty years later. I don’t think it ever will.
‘You better take it, nana – you know she will just call again if you don’t. I’ll make some tea.’
Noluthando walks quickly out of my home office to the kitchen. I strain to hear the sound of the kettle being filled, but the pounding blood in my ears is too loud.
Each time I must speak with Noné, it is the same. My skin prickles; my muscles tense. But speak to her, I must – it is my job. At least if I know what she is up to, I can protect Sindiwe.
‘You’re too deep in thought. You must focus, Ray,’ Noli whispers.
I’m not sure when Noluthando abandoned her post as cleaner and took up the mantle of mothering me, but it’s habit now. She places the Earl Grey with honey next to me, then closes the door. I’m still holding the phone, as though it’s a stone I plan to throw.
Noné’s voice crackles down the line: ‘It’s not polite to keep me waiting, Ray.’
I put the phone to my ear, stifling a sigh. ‘What is it that I can help you with, Your Excellency?’
‘These protests are becoming a nuisance.’
‘I’m sure they will be resolved soon. As far as I know, the Minister of Higher Education has it in hand. That was his brief to Cabinet last week.’
‘We both know that little smiling turtle of a man cannot fix this mess, Ray. It demands a firmer hand.’
‘We’ve already got Special Forces on campus. That alone is an extreme measure.’
‘I think we need to take it one step further.’
‘I don’t follow.’ It’s not that I don’t. It’s that I won’t. I take a sip of tea, the soothing scent of bergamot a stark contrast to the chill in Noné’s voice.
‘I do hate explaining the obvious, but I think it’s time to take him out.’
‘What?’