They Drink it in the Congo

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They Drink it in the Congo Page 9

by Adam Brace


  So one day, one day soon all the diaspora in Europe will have a great day where they destroy Congolese government, throw out UN, throw out Rwanda, throw out white devils and lanterns.

  That day, we will fucking dance and sing.

  Now. You can go.

  Maurice Papa Luis

  Luis No.

  Now she can go.

  Stef Can I tell this band the threat will be dropped?

  Luis Go.

  Stef I want to tell them that.

  Luis Tell them anything. But I expect your festival to be stopped. By force.

  Stef So you do make threats.

  Luis No. I make predictions.

  Stef Thank you for your time.

  Maurice Thank you, Miz Cartwright.

  Stef exits. Oudry leaves with her.

  FIFTEEN

  WHAT SHE STARTS

  The band play and Oudry sings with them.

  Oudry (sings) Dear Stephanie. Due to security concerns, my clients RumbaNation can no longer play your CongoVoice festival. Death threats from pressure group Les Combattants de Londres have made the trip too great a risk. We wish you fortitude in your endeavour.

  Fortuna Music Management, Paris

  The band finish abruptly and walk off. Oudry remains with microphone.

  Kat enters. Oudry is setting up a loop-pedal to his microphone.

  Kat Tony Jarman’s just coming through security.

  I saw that email come in. Looked bad.

  Stef There are other bands.

  Kat Absolutely.

  Stephanie, now’s a terrible time but

  Stef You need to go home.

  Kat No. No I need a reference.

  Stef What for? This is a top internship.

  Kat No, this is full-time! Sustainable Waste campaign. They asked me to apply!

  Stef Wow. Okay.

  Oudry uses the loop-pedal to make soundtracks underscoring the scene.

  Kat With your reference, I should get it.

  Stef Well, you’ve been wonderful to work with. And I’d never stand in anyone’s way, in terms of progressing.

  Kat Thank you so much.

  Oudry overlays his voice on itself to create a choir.

  Stef But I do have a duty of care to safeguard your reputation.

  Kat

  How’d you mean?

  Stef Someone could look at your CV and go, two internships, neither completed. Can she finish what she starts?

  Kat But you pulled me out of the last internship

  Stef We–ll, you probably shouldn’t have let me, to be honest.

  Kat But this is what I want to do.

  Stef I am not going to write you a reference in the next few weeks.

  Kat My rent is killing me!

  Oudry’s choir grows.

  Stef Until after the festival, when we both have a clear head.

  You’ll learn a lot from how you react to this.

  Kat

  Kat leaves. Oudry’s choir peaks and dies away.

  Tony enters. Oudry begins building a rhythmic beat under the scene.

  Tony We have to have a band. We could ask that one I told you about. Indie covers in a rumba style. And they’re mostly not Congolese, so threats are less of a problem. Any good for us?

  Stef Never thought I’d be happy our band are mostly not Congolese.

  Oudry Great house band booked for Hashtag CongoVoice festival: ‘Rumba-stious’. Hear Western rock like you’ve never heard it before. Please RT.

  A book fair. Stef and Ira Coleman. Oudry’s beat cuts out.

  Stef I mean it, you read your work with such elegance and. Precision.

  Ira Wow. You must be really stuck for acts huh.

  Stef I had no right to question you. The work speafks for itself.

  Ira You had the right, same as I had the right to send it back.

  Stef Our spot for a reading by the finest writer on the Congo still stands. If you happen to still be free.

  Ira My professor at Harvard had a saying: flattery is just an insult in a Sunday coat.

  Stef Great line.

  Ira Can I ask you a serious question? What the fuck hope of doing anything has your little festival got?

  Stef

  The truth is the first festival probably won’t be great shakes. I mean, it’ll be a hell of a lot better if you’re involved. But it will be a precedent that will attract twice the funding and we’ll triple in size within six months. ‘Save Darfur’ made a real difference. We aim for that traction within thirty months. If we don’t get started, that will discourage future attempts and the Congo will stay a nothing issue here.

  Ira Send me an email. Suggest what I could read.

  And I’ll come do my thing, and maybe dance to your band.

  Stef Brilliant. Everyone will be delighted.

  They part.

  Stef on her smartphone. Yawns as she types. Oudry builds another beat.

  Oudry Award-winning author Ira Coleman added to CongoVoice bill. Tickets still available, selling fast. Please RT. Hashtag CongoVoice.

  A bedroom recording studio.

  Stef smiles politely. Ian counts them in silently. A jingle plays from the band.

  Ian (reads) Hello, you’re listening to Aid Matters Podcast sponsored by Blackwell Books, Gower Street. With us now, Stephanie Cartwright, a graduate of the SOAS Conflict and Development Master’s and currently co-ordinator of the flagship campaign CongoVoice. It’s a role Stephanie secured against some very stiff competition – not least Jenny Walton of Human Rights Monitor who we featured in episode seven.

  Stef makes a bit of a face at him.

  The campaign and its opening festival currently appear to be in turmoil: acts dropping out, confusion over its constitution, the festival is becoming a lightning rod for diaspora discontent. All in all a case study of a promising campaign going awry. Stephanie – welcome – are you starting to feel you took this role before you were ready?

  Stef laughs in practised, professional amusement.

  Stef Well, Ian, thank you for having me. And thank you for absolutely roasting me with that first question, but the festival is actually picking up pace in the most exciting way.

  Stef puts her hand over the mic.

  I’m sorry what the fuck are you doing?

  Ian stops recording.

  Ian Do not touch the mic! That mic is the most expensive piece of kit in a ten-mile radius.

  Stef Don’t stitch me up, Ian.

  Ian Have you ever listened to this podcast? I ask the hard questions – that’s / my whole thing

  Stef I haven’t time to listen to my voicemails, Ian, let alone your hard questions. You do your intro again, act like a fucking professional, not a bedroom wannabe. And don’t question the credibility of my event.

  Ian I question what I like. That’s why I’m independent

  Stef Oh, because you love being independent do you.

  How about if this goes well I will email a BBC World Service producer and tell her two things. One – that she should listen to your podcast. And two – that I’m looking forward to being her bridesmaid this summer.

  Now ask me about why my campaign is going to work.

  Oudry could up the tempo of the beat. And add to it.

  Oudry Dear Sally! Hope wedding prep is not a nightmare. Thank you for the plug for the festival last week. We had a spike in sales! So – I have copied in Ian Wandless, he runs the most fascinating podcast …

  Victor, Stef and Tony.

  Victor I can’t tell you why.

  Stef You’re joking!

  Tony It is a bit of a blow, mate.

  Victor I can’t tell you why but it is not possible

  Stef I have no idea what to make of it, Victor. I find you making some ridiculous paramilitary video. You assure me, and Anne-Marie assures me, you’re not in the Combattants. But next thing I hear you’re leaving the festival and the committee. Do you know how much of a pain in the arse that is, at this point?

  Tony Stef<
br />
  Stef Is it because of the poems? Tell me it’s not cos of the fucking poems.

  Tony She’s tired

  Victor It’s not the poems.

  Stef So it’s the boys from the internet café?

  Victor I cannot tell you why.

  Stef You’re like everyone else, you’re going to reward the actions of these men playing at soldiers.

  Victor I’m sorry – there are other Congolais you can find who don’t have my problem.

  Stef We don’t know what your problem is!

  Tony If your problem’s a threat of violence, we’ll understand

  Victor It’s not.

  I’m sorry. I come today to tell you myself, because I have respect. For you two, for your idea. But

  Stef But not the respect to tell us why?

  Victor I cannot. Only I am too much living in the light and I must go back and live more in the dark.

  Stef Very poetic.

  Victor exits. Oudry abruptly stops the pedal.

  Stef and Tony, later. Oudry starts the pedal again.

  Tony You need to get some sleep

  Stef Hundreds of Congolese in this country, we cannot get three to be on a committee.

  Tony And stop shouting at people who tried to help us.

  Stef Our Steering Committee currently is: you, me, Samo, whose people are giving good money, Jenny fucking bitch face from HRM, who is giving good money.

  Tony Yep

  Stef No Victor now, one fewer Congolese, but his people were giving almost no money. Anne-Marie, whose money is not make or break. Fred Fletcher, Conflict Minerals and Jeremy McGuire from Street Child, both big donors.

  Tony One Congolese, six non-Congolese.

  Stef So we need two more Congolese. One more meeting where we sign off the payments – Anne-Marie is being a darling and handing out CongoVoice flyers at a protest tomorrow. A great place to get some more Congolese for the committee. I want to go but. She’s a little sick of me at the moment. We’ve probably seen too much of each other. She likes you.

  Tony (sighs) Seriously? Flyering.

  Stef There’s two generations of Congolese you can’t reach on social media.

  Tony That’s not what I meant.

  Stef Now I must call Evian and say we’re definitely going ahead

  Tony Weren’t Evian scared off?

  Stef No they’re sponsoring the shop – books and refreshments.

  Tony Evian are like sponsorship cockroaches in a nuclear – hold on

  Stef They’re loyal

  Tony Simon. Simon used to work for Evian.

  Stef Simon as in?

  Tony Simon your boyfriend after me.

  Stef

  Yes he did.

  Tony Does he still?

  Stef Yes.

  Tony And the insane deal you got on web advertising? You got a guy in that port?

  Stef I’m not some monster for getting free advertising

  Tony It’s alright, it’s cool, I understand how you work.

  Stef Because you’ve read my emails.

  Tony You get things done.

  Stef Damn right

  Tony You’re industrious, you exploit people. That’s what industrious people do.

  Stef I think you might be making a bit much of this

  Tony Is there anyone in your sexual past, or sexual present, that you haven’t asked for a favour on this project?

  She pretends to think seriously about this.

  Stef I had a threesome with two Frenchmen on my gap year.

  Haven’t asked either of them.

  Tony

  Is that. Is that true?

  Stef Forgot to get their email.

  SIXTEEN

  FROM THE KNEES

  Anne-Marie and Suzanne outside. It is quiet. There are boxes of flyers. Anne-Marie is perhaps locking up the door to the room they are stored in.

  Suzanne is allowing an upside down placard to lean on her, it reads ‘Is Your Mobile Phone Helping Fund War in Congo?’

  Anne-Marie stops and looks at her bored daughter.

  Anne-Marie Look, I am not stupid. I know this does not interest you. When Tony is back you can go home.

  Suzanne Don’t make out like you’re doing me a favour, you want me home so someone’s with Grandpapa.

  Anne-Marie I am not Estelle from school, young lady. You can speak to me / with respect.

  Suzanne He calls me your name all the time, he doesn’t even know who is looking after him.

  Anne-Marie Papa has moments of confusion, but he is more sick in his body than his mind.

  Suzanne But – how would you know though? You’re not there. It’s worse than you think.

  Anne-Marie Hold these for me.

  Tony enters and is about to pick up a box to carry.

  Tony Right, I can start lugging them up I think.

  Anne-Marie Do we need this many?

  Tony I want to take the rest of them off in an uber after the protest.

  Right, load me up.

  Anne-Marie loads him up with a box.

  Yep and again.

  Anne-Marie bends for another.

  From the knees.

  So you happy with the design?

  Anne-Marie I think the Parliament logo could be smaller you know. For the Congolais.

  Tony I think it had to be that size. Yep and another.

  Anne-Marie Sure?

  Tony No, I can take more than that.

  It becomes a bit of a game, loading him up. Anne-Marie giggles. Suzanne does not see her mum like this very often.

  Anne-Marie You will drop all this.

  Tony Go on, tuck one in. This is what I go to the gym for.

  Anne-Marie You go to the gym?

  Tony Well. I have done.

  Anne-Marie giggles. Suzanne is mortified at their flirting.

  Suzanne So I never thought I’d say this but. I really wanna get home to look after my Grandpapa.

  Suzanne plants a perfunctory kiss on Anne-Marie and leaves.

  Anne-Marie jokingly tries to balance one too many boxes on Tony.

  Tony Actually this is loads. Stick a couple of boxes away and I’ll come back and help with the rest.

  Anne-Marie has some loose flyers.

  Anne-Marie (playing) I know.

  She stuffs the loose flyers in his pocket. He is about to leave.

  Wait.

  She stuffs some loose flyers in his other pocket.

  For balance.

  Tony smiles at her warmly.

  Tony Good job.

  He starts lugging the flyers away.

  Anne-Marie is beginning to put the spare boxes back.

  A man with his face hidden enters stealthily. He has been watching.

  Perhaps this act is accompanied by a lone, slow drum.

  He comes behind Anne-Marie. He puts his hand over her mouth and an arm around her neck.

  Anne-Marie struggles.

  Another man enters similarly dressed.

  He stands, still looking down at her.

  He casually takes a flyer and looks at it. Then scrumples it up.

  The drumbeat could become more insistent.

  The second man pulls out a revolver and holds it in front of her face.

  The hand is taken from her mouth and she makes a half-scream before the flyer is forced into her mouth and closed around it. They try to make her chew it. She lets out a cry of panic.

  The second man puts the revolver to her eye. He pulls it away and with his other hand he punches her hard in the same eye.

  The band could start playing fully.

  Tony runs back in.

  The second man winds back once more and smacks her directly in the eye.

  Tony is sent flying by one of the men as they suddenly sprint away.

  When Tony is knocked over maybe the flyers in his pockets go everywhere.

  Anne Marie lies in agony clutching her eye. Tony crouches over her.

  Suzanne runs in, sees her mother and screams, rooted to
the spot.

  SEVENTEEN

  THE BETTER PART

  Portcullis House. Stef with Huw and Jenny.

  Huw I just spoke with her.

  Jenny Is it true she may lose the sight in one eye?

  Stef Moorfields are very positive. She has another retinal scan in a couple of days. And she’s in good spirits, back home and walking around.

  Jenny With police protection now at least.

  Stef Come on then.

  Huw There’s no easy way of saying this.

  Stef Why, what is it, a Welsh village?

  Huw In light of what’s happened, it might be wise, as far as this year is concerned, to say that discretion is the better part of valour.

  Stef And call it off.

  Huw And call it off, yes. The attack gives us a chance to call it off and regroup, without admitting defeat.

  Stef Calling it off is defeat

  Huw Defeat is any more people hurt, any more acts dropped out, any more embarrassment than we’ve already had.

  Stef And this is a decision you and Jenny have come to together?

  Jenny There’s no decision

  Huw It’s just a conversation.

  Stef That you had without me.

  Huw That we’re having now.

  Stef Well then, thank you, I’ll take it all on board.

  She goes to leave.

  Huw Stephanie. If you’re not willing to act, I’m afraid I may have to pull rank.

  Stef And I’m afraid, I don’t think you can.

  Huw Sorry?

  Stef I’m afraid, you’re not my boss, you’re the MP for Clwyd West. Sure you can get a vote of no confidence, but you have ten days and you’d have to cause a big fuss. It was your call to appoint me, it’s egg on your face. And I won’t go quietly.

  Huw All this, hardly worth destroying a career, and a friendship, over. Is it?

 

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