Fifteen Years of Tobacco



 

  Fifteen Years of Tobacco

  By Richard Black

  Copyright 2012 Richard Black

  All Rights Reserved

  This short story is a work of fiction. Names, characters and events are a product of the author’s imagination. Any similarities are purely coincidental.

  Other works by the same author:

  The Ethical Banker by Richard Black

  When Luck and Perseverance combine, a man is given a chance to turn ugly twists of fate into golden opportunities- Eric Grant

  Fifteen Years of Tobacco

  By the time he started his new job at the Presidential Palace, Jamal Awiya already had a drinking problem. The good thing, according to his counsellor at the Alcoholics Anonymous meeting where he had managed an appearance only once, was that he acknowledged his problem and wasn't living in self denial like most drink and substance abusers.

  “Your attitude and understanding are a good place to start,” he was told, or rather consoled.

  On the other hand, it was rather a hard place to start because Jamal had only attended that A.A meeting after losing his job as a tour guide for Thembo Tours &Safari Co.

  Mr. Thembo, the proprietor of the tour company had decided to “ let him go” as he had increasingly concentrated on working as “a drinker” rather than a tour guide.

  He claimed, among other things, that Mr. Jamal Awiya had brought his Company into disrepute and there was no way that he as a strict Muslim would allow alcohol to pollute his business.

  In fact, as far as Jamal could remember, his boss had always claimed that “Alcohol was the Devil's blood and tobacco it's breath.” Fortunately, he wasn't a smoker, but still that didn't save him. What actually drove Mr. Thembo to the edge was when he unexpectedly showed up at the camp site at 2 am and found Jamal drinking beer and playing loud music with a group of young rowdy tourists.

  One of the tourists, a twenty something young man was singing at the top of his voice. In a drunken stupor, he had his shirt off, a beer in one hand, a cigarette dangling between his lips, and was dancing to “ It's raining men” when Mr. Thembo walked in, headed for the corner and turned off the stereo.

  The dancer was not amused and had drunkenly yelled at Mr.Thembo, telling him to turn the music on again immediately. His demands flopped and the party goers/ tourists were all dismissed and sent to sleep in their respective tents.

  The next day, Jamal's employment contract was terminated. He got his final pay cheque, packed his bags and left. He hadn't a lot to pack anyway. The only valuable thing he had was his top of the range Nikon digital SLR camera and maybe his collection of stunning wildlife images. The other possessions were almost rags. Battered walking boots, a pair of worn out all star converse trainers, two faded pairs of jeans, three tee shirts, a blue wind breaker, rain coat, flash light and a Playboy Magazine.

  He shoved them all in his travel bag, double checked to make sure he had his check on him and then left the tourist camp for good.

  For the next six months, Jamal was basically out of work except for the brief free-lance photography jobs he managed to get. He had always loved Photography and was quite good at it so the abrupt change of career was quite smooth.

  It became clear to him soon enough that free-lance work is so tough if you haven't built up contacts and a network with in your chosen profession and he was soon running out of money.

  He ended up selling his photography portfolio “ Wild Savannah”, which he had managed to shoot during his work and travels at Thembo Safari's. They paid him pea nuts for that work only for him to see it published in the National Free Press , a daily state run newspaper which was more or less a mouth piece of the Government. He wasn't even credited as the source of the work but then, by taking the “bait” money, he had waived all rights to his work. And with the way copyright law operated in Barudi, he knew better than to complain.

  With no sensible job and plenty of time on his hands, Jamal found himself drinking even more. Mungo, the capital was quite a small city and as a result , he was quickly becoming a regular at most bars and clubs.

  In fact, it was while he was out to grab a few beers one evening when things started to change. He had gone to the Wayward Casino & Jazz club, an urban and trendy night spot when he got lucky.

  He had just finished his first beer when a group huddled around players on the Roulette caught his attention in the far corner. He decided to go and have a look, perhaps, he thought, he could learn a trick or two on how to make money at the Casino!

  One of the guys playing looked familiar and when he looked up from his chips on the table, he immediately recognised him.

  Tom Ejiet was doing PR for the government and in fact was the President's Spokesman. Tall, elegant and only thirty four, he was a rising star in the government and extremely intelligent. He handled journalists at Press Conferences with charm and explained Government policy efficiently, though most of time, his explanations were smart but elusive.

  Jamal had first met Mr. Tom Ejiet and his wife on a Safari while still working as a tour guide.

  After two weeks travelling around the game parks, hiking in the hills and fishing in the River Mitanga, they had become like friends. Tom was so carefree and friendly while his wife was rather quiet, reserved but very well behaved.

  She was great company and extremely alert. On hikes, she could point out birds that her husband and the tour guide had missed, hear sounds and cries of wild game before they did, she could ask them to stop and get her some fruit, pointing to a tree they hadn't seen! She was extremely alert and aware of her surroundings, a trait that really amazed Jamal though he kept the observation to himself. It made him think that perhaps women are naturally more alert and aware of their surroundings.

  During those two weeks, they drank cold beers between hikes, roasted and ate delicious antelope on camp fires and drove out to near by villages to watch African tribal dances.

  Early at dawn, Jamal and Tom woke up before the rest of the camp to take photos of the rising sun, the Savannah still covered by early morning mist and stunning images of wild game. Their shared passion for Photography and the outdoors had turned them into friends.

 

  When Tom and his wife's safari ended, Jamal felt a sense of loss. He drove them in an ancient Land Rover to the airstrip where small transit aircraft connected the countryside to Mungo, the capital city.

  Before they had boarded the twin engine Cessna, Tom had given Jamal his email and told him to keep in touch which he didn't because he had thought that Tom was just making polite talk. Besides, he didn't think their paths would cross again, he had been wrong.

  There he was, Mr. Tom Ejiet, playing Roulette at The Wayward.

  When their eyes met, Tom smiled and exchanged his chips for cash. He left the Roulette table and came to where Jamal was. “Jamal?” he asked as he walked over. “Yes,” Jamal smiled. “You have a good memory, how are you?” Over beers, they tried to catch up and he asked him how his job as a tour guide was going. “Change of career”, he told him but not mentioning how he had been fired. He told him he had got bored and was now working as a Free-lance Photographer. Photography was interesting but the money wasn't so good unless one worked for prestigious clients.

  Also, Photography wasn't rocket science and n
ow anyone with a decent camera fancied themselves photo-Journalists. In fact there was a very bad joke going around town where they called photographers “monkeys.” The Logic of the joke was that, a monkey can't write literature, it can't paint landscape art, it can't do maths or astronomy, but if you gave it a camera, and showed it the button to press, there was a possibility that at the end of the day, it could take a decent photo. As a result, there was almost more Professional Photographers than the subjects in the country which drove the payments for their work down. All this, Tom listened to with interest.

  That's when he told Jamal of a job opening at the Presidential Press Office (PPO). The old Photo-Journalist at the PPO had got fired after selling the President's family photos to the foreign media.

  After a night out watching a wonderful jazz performance and drinking beers, Tom promised to put in a word for him so he could get the job.

  “I know you enjoy doing wild life photography. Though this is more about people, I am sure you will enjoy it too,” he told him.

  “I enjoy working with people too,” Jamal lied as he jumped on the defensive and they both laughed but the fact was, he actually preferred to work with animals. People had a tendency of being egoistic, treacherous, unpredictable and completely unreliable. With such traits in humans, he preferred working