A Message From Mobutu Kabamba

Posted: 17/02/2016 by vequinox in Literature

The Champagne Epicurean

Mobutu Kabamba sat in the Prime Minister’s office drinking a cup of coffee that tasted like armadillo skin. Across him, surrounding the Prime Minister’s balding head like a rustic halo, was a framed landscape that was covered in so much dust it could be said the artwork had returned to its roots. The porcelain mug Mobutu Kabamba drank from felt cold, even with the steaming hot coffee inside, and he wondered if it was his own anxiety that left his black-and-pink hands so remarkably frigid.

He had every reason to be anxious, after so many years of hurdle-jumping, back-scratching, back-stabbing and hours of confined hunger, only to lead to this interview. An interview with the young Prime Minister of Malta, during which, Mobutu Kabamba would give him a message that would change his life and, by symbiotic proximity, the life of his small country. And he would tell him his…

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