“Boss, Mr. President and the minister are here to access the thirty four trillion dollars loan. Should I grant them express entry or you are in no mood to attend to them.” That was the echoing voice of Zion who was having handy a visitor’s form which had their names on it.
I hesitated and dimmed my eyes in the space to get acquainted with the noise which was banging from the reception. Instead of replying Zion, I queried, “What is the noise all about? Why would such noise be going on in my company?”
Zion had a grimace face. Obviously he knew what the reason for the noise was. “No offense boss. Our security has been daring to calm the situation.” He briefed me, “it is a heated quarrel between the president’s security and the journalists…”
I dragged a grin and gathered curiosity around me like a robe, “What quarrel could it be? Do they realize that this is the Saint Don Group and we don’t accept that here?”
Already the noise had thickened and I was enraged within me. I swore under my breath and was about to take action.
Zion explained yet further, “Boss I think it is the president’s fault. He commanded that the journalist give way and leave the premises as he wouldn’t want the media to capture him as he collects the loan from you…”
I let loosed, and pounced to my feet in wrath, “What nonsense! That is impossible. This is the Saint Don Group. It is mine and I alone can decide what goes on here. Go right away and calm the situation, tell Mr. President that the media must capture this moment, nothing must be hidden!”
“As the world richest man pleases,” Zion intoned as he bowed and dashed out to do my bidding.
I sat back and watched on my CCTV what the turnout of event would be.
Indeed, Mr. President wanted this moment to be hidden from the consumption of the public. He was out to access this loan without any damn person knowing about it. Since he was a proud ruler, who wouldn’t want to be criticized by the public for taking loan from me, it was necessary for him to wade off the media.
“His Excellency, my boss rebukes your action,” sounded Zion, the moment he stepped out to the reception, “He …”
Mr. President interrupted him with a curse, “You idiot! Do you realize who I am ? I am the one involved here and not your boss. I don’t want the media to capture these moments. I want the exercise to remain private and be done behind closed doors. I am the president and my decision stands over your boss’s.”
There was no stopping the journalist; flashes of camera light fell upon Zion, , the president and the minister as they bickered.
Zion had a huge frown on his face; the curse got to him but he pretended to have a thick skin against it. With his frown held, he replied, “I thought as a public servant that you are, you would be more civil and respectful. I wouldn’t accept it if you call me names again. You are supposed to be ashamed of yourself for accessing loan from an individual like my boss, while your fellow presidents are busy generating revenue…”
The minister protested, and stood to his feet. “How dare you speak to Mr. President in such manner? Do you realize he is the number one citizen of the country?”
Zion snarled, “I only realize he is a broke ass president who can’t afford mere thirty four trillion dollars to save his people from economy melt down, and would give you attitude if he comes to borrow from the Saint Don Group.”
The president dragged a thunderous brow and shut a frown at Zion to query his guts.
“Now listen up, I am in charge here. I can go in and report to my boss that you are troublesome and the loan will be cancelled. For the second time, it is either you let the journalists capture this moment or you take your broke ass out of the Saint Don Group.”
“Holy serpent!” the minister intoned, gaped and gestured at Zion, “Do you realize you are talking to your president …”
Mr. President gestured at the minister to take a deep breath, “Let it go,” he added through clenched jaw and sounded yet further, “He has the right to say whatever he wants to say. We are the ones in need. He knows it is only his boss that can help us with the money that is the reason for the insult.” He glared around and saw the band of journalist that perched around the corner. “Okay they can capture this moment,” he intoned, grinned and demanded, “Can we go in now to have the loan?”
“Good child,” Zion sounded humorously yet mockingly, “You can and you must be of good behavior as you go in there. No calling of names.”
The minister’s eyes brow corked at Zion, Mr. President rolled his eyes, swallowed hard and tolerated him. About entering the office, Zion stopped the minister.
“Excuse me,” he gestured at him, “Only the president goes in. You may have to remain here.”
He protested, “What arrant nonsense! Why? I came with the president. I see no reason I should remain at the reception while he goes in alone. What sort of embarrassment…”
“Honorable minister!” Zion interjected his offender, “You are not worthy to sit before Mike Don, the world richest man. Among all the men that can stand his audacity, you are the least. It is his order that you remain at the reception and smile at the journalist while Mr. President goes into the office for the loan.”
“This is very …”
The president gestured at the minister and interrupted him, “…let it go. We need this loan. We must not lose out now. I will go in alone,” he sounded and trudged into the office.
“See how a once ragged, poor boy becomes powerful that his order stands over mine,” the president thought as he advanced to my office.
A shocker hung around…