Chapter 49

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Gabriel found it hard to believe that the rich were as upset about how things were as the poor, but as he headed towards downtown there were protest signs everywhere. Businesses were mostly closed up. Some had boarded up windows in case of rioting.

Ahead he could hear drums and music. He made for them. He turned a corner onto Independence ave. Down that way was Cotton Tree and the National Museum. Gabriel had been there once before on a school trip. It had been a weekday and the museum had been mostly empty.

Today was another matter. The museum was several blocks away but the crowd reached almost to where Gabriel was. He saw flags everywhere. There were flags of Sierra Leone. A young woman waved an earth flag as she danced to the rhythm of the drums. Two men passed him by with a long banner with Consortium symbols on it, the closest the newcomers had to a flag. Another pair had a banner with a crudely sketched arm. "She bleeds for us," the banner declared.

Food stands had been set up along the route. Gabriel wondered if they agreed with the protestors, or if they just needed the money. Judging from the look on the face of the man who was frying kebobs at one stand, he wasn't too thrilled with the protest. But others were smiling and talking animatedly to people as they sold their wares.

And older lady was frying plantains on a grill near the edge of the street and Gabriel's mouth watered. He stared longingly at the plantains, but he had lost what little money he had along with his pack and belt.

"Here," she said, holding out a small wax paper container with a handful of plantains in them. "When the consortium comes, there will be plenty food for all."

"Thank you, Ma'am," Gabriel said, taking the bag. "There will be. They have loads of food." He nibbled on one plantain and then realised kids shouldn't know that much about the consortium. "That's what I heard anyway."

"It's true," she told him. "My son went. Back before the unrest. Got a job with a relief crew. My grandson be about your age. I'm glad they are away from this mess. Hopefully it all be resolved soon."

"I hope so, too." Gabriel told her. A man bumped him. Gabriel caught a flash of dark slacks and began to panic, but it was not the cop that had been pursuing him. Still it reminded him of his situation. "I should keep going," he said. "Thanks again, ma'am."

He headed on. He came to a stop again at the State Building. It was dark. A handful of military police stood in front of the building. The real protest was down by the museum, but there was a crowd here, watching the building.

Gabriel fell in beside a group of men dressed in dark clothes. "Barlay is up next," one of the men said. Gabriel recognized the name as one of President Burundi's chief rivals. The man spat, showing his opinion of Barlay. "Talk of reforms."

"People don't want reforms anymore," Gabriel said. "They want real change. A new government entirely. One based on the consortium's councils and overseen by the outsiders."

The men looked down at him, as though trying to get the measure of him.

"Good luck with that," one of the men said after some time. "Burundi will never let go of power. If you want something new, it will take a revolution."

"Then why are they down at the museum?" another of the men mused. "The power is right there. Storm the building." He nodded at the State House, right across the street from where they were.

"Ain't nobody in there," the first man replied. "The legislators all left town. And Burundi is holed up at Kabasa Lodge with a bunch of guards. Want to go storm that?"

"No thanks," the other man joked. "Still, it's going to come to revolution. You know it and I know it."

"Already is," Gabriel said. "Up in the hills anyway. The Blind Witch..."

"She's just a myth."

"She's real," Gabriel snarled. "She's my... I've met her. And the ghettoes will follow her. Give us a chance, we'll change this whole world. You'll see."

The first man chuckled. "Kid, you got spunk." He turned back to the others with him. "But ain't nobody storming the government today. Not this crowd. They'll say their piece and then disperse, like every other day so far. Let's get going." The men turned and headed off, blending into the crowd.

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