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Chapter 913: Chapter 798: The Curtain Rises (Please Subscribe!)
Two days later.
Congo Gold.
Under the pressure of public opinion.
An emergency session of Congress was held, hosted by Moi, halting the current construction project and preparing to re-initiate it, mainly because some of the project areas and industrial colors were just too strong.
Basically, it was impossible to give the outside world a reasonable explanation.
Take a road, for example.
It was fine as it was.
Just a little old, but with some repairs, it could have been used for many more years.
Yet, in the original plan, the road was to be completely redone.
There’s nothing wrong with fixing roads, but in the neighboring province, where transportation was inconvenient, people had difficulty traveling, and there was a lack of water and electricity facilities, infrastructure investment was relatively more necessary.
In comparison.
The reasons for repairing this road just didn’t stand up at all.
And these were all projects that the country itself could undertake.
The projects the country couldn’t complete on its own, like railways, airports, power stations, basic guarantees for remote provinces, and so on, were all missing. This stuff, anyone with eyes could see it was outright benefit transfer.
Explanation.
Explanation my ass.
What is there to explain?
There were far too many unnecessary projects, completely indefensible.
Therefore, Moi had to pause.
If he continued, his reputation would truly be beyond salvation.
At least now, he could still try to save it, although the congressmen’s faces looked very displeased, but Moi was already struggling to save himself, and couldn’t worry about them, he had to get through the current difficulty first.
As for benefit transfer, it would only be discussed later, and be camouflaged under normal construction projects.
Due to the complete overturn of previous projects.
It brought about a new round of jostling for interests.
This money had to be spent during Moi’s term.
Otherwise, if Waite came into power and denied the projects, even if Moi retired, his life wouldn’t be peaceful; he could likely face their combined retaliation. Right now, what Moi wanted was just to smoothly transition through these few months.
Then have Fuloz come out.
As long as the family was safe and sound, all would be well.
...
In the evening.
Back at home.
Moi slumped on the sofa, defeated.
Today’s Congress was the most stifling one he had ever held over the years.
The dissatisfied eyes from below still left him feeling faintly intimidated.
As the saying goes, cutting off one’s means to livelihood is like killing one’s parents. Whether the next projects could guarantee satisfactory profits for those people, Moi couldn’t be sure; he could only wait and see and do his best.
He rubbed his head.
He turned on the TV and started watching the news.
The first channel he tuned into was Congo Gold’s largest unofficial TV station.
It was reporting on the incident.
"At six o’clock this afternoon, Congress suspended all the construction projects that were approved in the last session, and this showed us the power from the grassroots, from justice, from us insignificant individuals.
Every effort we make can help this country suffer a little less, and we will continue to monitor the whereabouts of this money in the future, to give the public the right to know.
We hope President Moi remembers his mission, his past promises, and learns from his mistakes, correcting them..." On TV, the chubby African host passionately rallied the public.
Because the influence of these media outlets was to sway the people.
They alone.
Could make Moi and his like wary.
"We hope that all future government projects will be subject to public supervision, ensuring that the funds which could have improved our lives do not flow into the pockets of the greedy, and that they can’t waste the natural resources left to us by our ancestors..."
The other stations were the same.
Moi agreed with this in his heart.
But when you’re in Jianghu, you can’t help yourself. If he doesn’t want to be smashed by the raging torrent, he must learn to adapt to its ebbs and flows. There might be a risk of drowning, but at least there was the possibility to ride the waves.
There were even street interviews.
One by one, the people were cheering and jumping for joy.
On the TV.
At the side of a street.
A journalist was interviewing a young African: "What do you think this money should be used for?" They were surrounded by a crowd, all excited and goofing off.
Making middle fingers gestures.
Making faces.
Sticking out tongues.
Looking forward to ’stealing the show’, becoming the ’background board of the year’.
The man must have been on camera for the first time, and he said excitedly, "I think it should be distributed evenly to each of us because this is what we got in exchange for our underground mineral deposits, and we have the right to enjoy the profits it brings."
The journalist then asked, "Actually, I also hope the money would be given to us, but if you got the money, what would you do with it?"
"I would buy clothes, shoes, hats, and wine. I like whisky," said the African matter-of-factly, saving money? No way, Africans are very good with their spending habits, they just don’t like to save money, they spend it when they have it.
"And the rest?" asked the journalist, looking surprised.
"That’s all, I’ve spent it all."
"..."
Moi was speechless, glancing at the bottom right corner.
Damn it, it’s switched to the entertainment channel.
Hastily changed the channel.
Afterward.
Moi then cycled through the few TV stations in Congo Gold.
He found that the hosts did not have much praise for his action this time.
Instead, they saw it as a remedy for a wrong decision. No one sympathized with or praised Moi because it was a mistake he had made, and corrective actions and apologies were expected. Only the atmosphere was much less tense.
There was no direct outburst of criticism, but a rational and neutral Report.
This relieved Moi.
As long as they didn’t harp on him every day, it was fine.
These media had almost driven him crazy these past few days.
At this moment, he truly envied countries with public opinion control, where all mouthpieces must comply.
The free system of Western Countries had been in place for many years in Congo Gold, but it had not freed Congo Gold from poverty or strife. The economy wasn’t healthier, the technology had not advanced.
And instead, there was a bunch of chaotic issues.
The domestic situation in Congo Gold was still as confusing as ever.
The Western system had not brought order and peace.
Rather, it brought more problems.
They had to spend more energy delivering speeches everywhere,
Maintaining their support rates and had to put in a lot of effort to outwit other factions.
When it actually came time to accomplish something, they had to lobby all sides to pass a proposal they wanted in Congress. As a result, most of his time was spent on things unrelated to improving the livelihood of the public or handling state affairs.
With all his passion,
Under this system, it was extremely difficult to get things done, utterly exhausting, but if one just wanted to coast through life, get along and divide money quietly, this system made it very easy.
At that moment,
His phone rang. Moi hurriedly answered because it was Waite’s number. He heard a chilling voice come through, "Moi, did you do this?"
The question baffled Moi.
What had he done?
"Waite, what is it, what have I done? Please make it clear." Seeing Waite’s bad tone, Moi was puzzled and felt a sudden foreboding.
As expected.
Suppressing his anger, Waite said coldly, "Aren’t you the one who let the media talk nonsense? But the head of the national TV station clearly stated it was you who instructed him to broadcast today’s content."
Moi was even more stunned. 𝓃𝓸𝓋𝓅𝓊𝒷.𝓬𝓸𝓂
The national TV station of Congo Gold, a mouthpiece he could control, admittedly leaned a bit official, similar to the news channels of Huaxia. But he hadn’t seen that station head today, nor made any such instructions.
He had mainly browsed private TV stations just then.
He hadn’t looked at his own stations, which surely wouldn’t smear him.
"I just got home and haven’t watched it yet. I’ll get back to you with an answer," Moi calmed down, realizing this was no small matter.
Waite snorted coldly.
"I hope you’re quick; I need an explanation."
With that,
Waite hung up the phone with a clatter.
Confused, Moi hurriedly turned on the TV and tuned into the national TV station.
Ten minutes later,
Moi was shocked.
Because the TV was broadcasting a flurry of reports about Waite’s ’illegal and disorderly conduct’: accepting money during elections, improper relationships, those sorts of accusations were being heaped on Waite.
True or false, coming from that station, the reports were definitely sensational and influential.
Who would be so ruthless?
To knock the blame pot over onto his head.
Private TV stations had smeared him thoroughly, while his own TV stations were now seizing on Waite to critique. To onlookers, the logical conclusion was that the previous issues had been manipulated by Waite.
And now, he had begun retaliatory actions.
All of a sudden, Moi realized a terrifying consequence.
If he and Waite really came to blows,
That would be a big deal.
