By G Oguda
One day Pablo Escobar was entertaining prostitutes at his Hacienda Napoles when a phone call came through his secure line.
The Cali Cartel had just colluded with the Colombian army to abduct his father so that Pablo could come rescue his father and then they could arrest Pablo. The biggest manhunt in world’s history was just about to net the world’s most wanted criminal and the Colombian military and American CIA were at the center of it all.
It was around the time Pablo Escobar’s Medelin Cartel and the Cali Cartel weren’t seeing eye-to-eye, fighting to gain control of the cocaine market in Latin America and beyond. Pablo Eescobar had just upped his big boss game, hiring world class engineers to build him a state-of-the-art submarine which could smuggle cocaine through the ocean into the US borders, something which made the Cali cartel jealous with envy, and their acceptance to collude with the Colombian government to have Pablo out of the way.
Pablo picks the phone and they tell him to get his face to where his father was being abducted, before they blow his father’s head off. Cool as a cucumber, Pablo doesn’t interrupt them one bit. He lets them finish threatening him and his family with death, and then he asks them if they are done with their rant.
His response was brief, and very clear; “Listen you fools, I know the identity of all of you and I know where you are holding my father. I am giving each and every one of you the last chance to redeem your lives and survive death, because if any of my father’s hair is pulled from his head, the price of bullets I shall pump in each and everyone of you will be more expensive than the cost of your individual burials.” He disconnects the call, and activates his network of mercenary commandos to go and get his father back in one piece.
There are two cartels currently running this country. You know them, and how they roll. These two cartels have their mercenaries in government high places who do their bidding and wire the loot back to base. These agents are common people like you and me, people who work from paycheck to paycheck. Poor people who went to the civil service to make their ends meet.
These people have now been carefully vetted for loyalty, screened for past history, and after passing the trustworthiness test, have been placed in positions of government influence as conduits for corruption wire transfer. They are now part of the big money league from handling loot on transit, they have now been entangled into the convoluted corruption web, often with strings attached, that comes with eating chunks of crumbs that fall from the high corruption table.
But there is one problem.
The two cartels are now in head-to-head combat. Each want to gain unrivaled control of the Kenyan corruption market, and they have to kill the other off, once and for all, or else they will be the one being eaten for dinner. Each camp knows they have to do what it takes, even if it means inserting anthrax powder in a parcel handled by a courier owned by the other camp, to cause a national uproar, and then hang the other camp to dry.
The other camp know this, too, they are the masters of this game and they have their bag of tricks fully locked and loaded too. So it’s a straight shootout to the finish line of political survival.
You blink first, and Pablo’s men will be on their way to your address in no time.