ten months to a year to put together an operation of this magnitude, Shen Xun-jun had an army training and hungry to fight in less than five months. Because his operation was so heavily supported with food, flown in almost weekly, his army had swelled to almost ten thousand around the country, including over six thousand in his central training center which was very thinly disguised as an aid station. Perhaps the most heavily guarded one on the planet.
As Shen Xun-jun stood on the parade ground in the hot African sun, he watched companies of soldiers training around his camp. They ran in formation around the perimeter, carrying brand new Chinese machine guns. Many of them had taken off their shiny new black boots because they had never worn shoes before, and they were constantly tripping. The Chinese let it go, so long as they kept their berets on and kept their weapons spotless.
They were a primitive bunch, in Shen Xun-jun’s opinion, but certainly capable of deposing the shaky regime that currently ran the country. As long as the other African nations stayed out of the fight, which they most likely would since they had their own problems, the revolution had a great chance of success. The leader of the PAC, an educated man named Mboto Kangani, had promised the Chinese government carte-blanche once they controlled the country. With a puppet government running what would become “The People’s Republic of Congo,” China would have complete access to all of the nation’s vast natural resources.
Back in China, government officials were already discussing the construction of a nuclear power plant in the new PRC. It would bring the poor nation out of the dark ages, and produce weapon’s grade plutonium in the process for China’s own agenda. Of course, a nation of mostly illiterate people would need lots of assistance from China, who was more than willing to help.
10.
It ended up being almost four hours back to Kalemie. By the time they arrived, the charm of sitting out on the open railcar had ended. Everyone was jet lagged, tired, hungry and pretty much fed up with traveling. Unfortunately, Kalemie wasn’t where they would be living. The fish farm was located further south, back towards the direction they had just come from, but there was no direct route from Lubumbashi.
The team unloaded the cargo boxes from the train and Mackey spoke with a young man at the station. The man disappeared, then returned with three other men. Mackey spoke his bad French with them for a bit, and then they hustled off to get the trucks. These men were truck drivers that the old Canadian company had employed for several years to transport the live fish from their village to Luano Airport at Lubumbashi. Today they would be transporting the team from Kalemie to a tiny little village called Buwali, about halfway between Kalemie and Lubunduye. The population of Buwali was less than four hundred people, almost all of whom were fishermen.
Buwali consisted of mud huts with thatched roofs, and some primitive corrals that kept the few cattle and goats from wandering off. Small children tended the livestock, while the older ones worked with their parents on the Lake. Lake Tanganyika is one of Africa’s largest and deepest lakes, and to stand on its shore, you would think you were at the ocean. Except, of course, one doesn’t usually find crocodiles sunning themselves at the ocean.
The inhabitants of Buwali had been very upset when they found out that the fishery was being sold. For them, it was their major source of revenue. Most of the fish caught by the villagers was by hook for eating, and stayed in the village. But the live fish that they caught by gill net and delivered to the fish farm were sold for cash . That cash was just about the only money the village ever saw. Any other fishing, farming, livestock trading, etc. was just bartered in the village for day to day survival. The live fish they sold to the Canadians was their only real
As Shen Xun-jun stood on the parade ground in the hot African sun, he watched companies of soldiers training around his camp. They ran in formation around the perimeter, carrying brand new Chinese machine guns. Many of them had taken off their shiny new black boots because they had never worn shoes before, and they were constantly tripping. The Chinese let it go, so long as they kept their berets on and kept their weapons spotless.
They were a primitive bunch, in Shen Xun-jun’s opinion, but certainly capable of deposing the shaky regime that currently ran the country. As long as the other African nations stayed out of the fight, which they most likely would since they had their own problems, the revolution had a great chance of success. The leader of the PAC, an educated man named Mboto Kangani, had promised the Chinese government carte-blanche once they controlled the country. With a puppet government running what would become “The People’s Republic of Congo,” China would have complete access to all of the nation’s vast natural resources.
Back in China, government officials were already discussing the construction of a nuclear power plant in the new PRC. It would bring the poor nation out of the dark ages, and produce weapon’s grade plutonium in the process for China’s own agenda. Of course, a nation of mostly illiterate people would need lots of assistance from China, who was more than willing to help.
10.
It ended up being almost four hours back to Kalemie. By the time they arrived, the charm of sitting out on the open railcar had ended. Everyone was jet lagged, tired, hungry and pretty much fed up with traveling. Unfortunately, Kalemie wasn’t where they would be living. The fish farm was located further south, back towards the direction they had just come from, but there was no direct route from Lubumbashi.
The team unloaded the cargo boxes from the train and Mackey spoke with a young man at the station. The man disappeared, then returned with three other men. Mackey spoke his bad French with them for a bit, and then they hustled off to get the trucks. These men were truck drivers that the old Canadian company had employed for several years to transport the live fish from their village to Luano Airport at Lubumbashi. Today they would be transporting the team from Kalemie to a tiny little village called Buwali, about halfway between Kalemie and Lubunduye. The population of Buwali was less than four hundred people, almost all of whom were fishermen.
Buwali consisted of mud huts with thatched roofs, and some primitive corrals that kept the few cattle and goats from wandering off. Small children tended the livestock, while the older ones worked with their parents on the Lake. Lake Tanganyika is one of Africa’s largest and deepest lakes, and to stand on its shore, you would think you were at the ocean. Except, of course, one doesn’t usually find crocodiles sunning themselves at the ocean.
The inhabitants of Buwali had been very upset when they found out that the fishery was being sold. For them, it was their major source of revenue. Most of the fish caught by the villagers was by hook for eating, and stayed in the village. But the live fish that they caught by gill net and delivered to the fish farm were sold for cash . That cash was just about the only money the village ever saw. Any other fishing, farming, livestock trading, etc. was just bartered in the village for day to day survival. The live fish they sold to the Canadians was their only real
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