Foreign Aid (Part 2)

The air hostess walked past for the umpteenth time and glanced at the man who sat still in his traditional attire with a full glass of water in his hand, looking out the window, lost in his own thoughts.

She had seen a lot of men like him on these flights, men momentarily lost to their immediate surroundings, either chasing after something or running from something else. She knew she shouldn't intrude, but her job dictated that she ask if he needed anything else.

She approaches him cautiously, gets within earshot, and says, " Sir." The man, oblivious to her presence, appears not to hear. She clears her throat and tries again, raising the decibels of her voice a notch, "Sir...".

He looks up at her with sad, tired eyes, smiles, and says, "Yes?".

"Would you like anything else, Sir? a pillow? a magazine?" She asks, giving him her best smile.

"No, thank you!" He glances down at the glass of water in his hand and adds, "This is fine."

"Okay, Sir, please let me know if you need anything else." He nods. She turns and walks down the aisle.

He watches her walk away, appreciating her long legs for a few seconds, then, with a deep sigh, turns back to watching the clouds and resumes his mental wrestling.

His trip hadn't been as successful as he'd hoped; as a matter of fact, it had been a disaster of monumental proportions. The consequences of his perceived failures weighed heavily on his mind, like a cart on a pack mule. He wondered how his President would react to the news. Even though he (the President) had given him the authority to decide whether or not the aid was viable, the man knew that his decision would resonate down the corridors of power. He glances down at the glass in his hand again. This time he raises it to his lips, drains it, sets the empty glass down in the cup holder, sits back, lets out another deep sigh, and closes his eyes.

The office had an official yet homely feel. It contained all of the typical paraphernalia associated with public office, such as flags, coats of arms, and government seals. But on the couch sat a folded, well-used duvet; on the floor by the desk; a pair of comfortable-looking camel skin slippers, on a small table by the window; and a small pile of paperback novels. At that moment, however, neither of the occupants of the office cared about the items around them.

The traditional-attired man sat on a cushioned armchair, talking respectfully to a much older man who paced back and forth behind his desk, fingers interlocked at the small of his back, his head bowed low as he walked and processed the information he was receiving.

When the younger man was done speaking, he exhaled and sat back as if in defeat or in anticipation of a reprimand. The old man stopped pacing by his desk, sat on the edge of it, loosened his tie, took off his jacket and removed his shoes and socks, rubbing the soles of each foot in turn as if to relieve some pain, then slid each foot into the camel-skinned slipper.

He looked at the young man, smiling at him as he took his seat. Then he spoke, "Don't look so beat up about it, I was hoping it'd turn out differently this time."

The young man's eyes shot up in shock, "This time?!" He retorted, "You're telling me this happened before?".

The old man still smiling replied, "Yes it has".

The old man continued, "Twenty years ago, it was I sitting in that chair you're in right now, reacting the same way."

The young man sat up, "If what you say is true, why did you not mention this? Why did you send me on a mission doomed from the start? You knew there was nothing to be gained."

The old man leaned back in his chair saying," For one, it was a test of your integrity, for another, I nurtured a slight hope that things might have changed from my last visit. I guess I was wrong".

The young man heaved a sigh of relief then asked, "What do we do now? we needed that aid to fast track our national development".

The old man replied, "We did! However, not all hope is lost".

A confused look passes across the young man's face," Do you mean you're going to take the deal? That deal would set us back to pre-independence...".

The old man cuts him off, " No, no, we're not taking the deal. We both agree that the fast track isn't viable, the demands of the powers that rule this world have not changed with time".

The old man goes on, "However, the reasoning and technologies of the world have changed, thus we would take the slower approach to national development by looking within. Do you have any ideas in this regard?".

The young man shot out of his chair excitedly, "Yes, I thought of nothing else on the flight back, I have a ton of ideas. If you could authorize me to do a comprehensive research on the human capital and resources we possess in and out of our country, I would provide a frame work by which we can grow internally and become self sustaining".

Pacing the room animatedly, the young man adds, "We can allow the private firms operating within our shores tax write-offs for every citizen they train and every factory they open. We can...

The old man raises a hand to cut him off mid-sentence, "Yes, Yes... There's a lot to do. You best get on with it, we're running out of time. You will have the necessary authorizations by morning"

The old man gets up and extends his hand, the young man grasps it and shakes it enthusiastically, "I will not let you down sir".

The old man replies, "See to it that you don't. I expect a preliminary report in one month".

The young man turns and walks towards the door, already deep in thought. As he reaches the handle the old man says, "The future of our nation is in your hands, it's going to be a long and arduous journey. You will make a lot of enemies but you must persevere. When its seems like you can no longer go on... Remember, the only other alternative is Cultural Annihilation."

To be continued...