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November 17, 2005

Struggle for Djibo FM continues

The land dossier saga continued today. Some Men in Black arrived this morning from Ouahigouya, bringing with them their clipboards and cadastral plans. I got a phone call telling me to join them tout rapidement at the 'Direction de Gestion de Terroires'. I first picked up pastor B first for moral support, and along we went. The purpose of the men's visit was to look at the land and decide whether we were worthy of it. We piled into their 4x4, drove up the road and established to everyone's satisfaction that the land exists and that no one has yet built on it. Then the fun started.

The six of us (three Men in Black, one agent, one pastor and myself) were all wandering around on the terrain with studied aimlessness when the chief Man in Black sidled up to me and told me that our land application had been rejected in Ouahigouya. A fellow who he referred to only as 'le technician' had rejected the dossier due to lack of detailed architectural plans (which at no stage in the process I had been asked to provide). Gulp.

Then he whispered that he was personally sympathetic to our project. Ca c'est bien, I said. I really hope you get the land, he said. Merci, I said. If you can give me some architectural plans now, he said, I'll see what I can do. I gave him some architectural plans. Ring me tomorrow afternoon, he said.

Then the Man in Black sidled off and the pastor sidled up to me and said, 'The agent just told me that in these cases it is customary to give a certain something to encourage them.'
'Like what?' I said.
'Money,' he said. 'I'm just repeating what the agent told me,' he said.
'Tell you what - I'll take them to Hotel Massa for a Coke before they go back to Ouahigouya.'
'I think they'd prefer cash,' he said, stepping from one foot to the other. 'I'm just telling you what the agent said,' he said.
At this point the agent sidled up to us. 'Is everything okay?'
The pastor shrugged. 'He wants to take them out for a Coke.'
'I think they would prefer cash,' said the agent, stifling a laugh.
'We have not budgeted for that,' I said.
'When in Rome,' said pastor B (in English), 'do as the Romans do.'
'Exactement,' said the agent.
The agent looked at me expectantly. The Men in Black were already back in the vehicle, waiting for us. The pastor was wringing his hands. I've never seen anyone actually wringing their hands, except in books.
'You're the Roman here,' I said to him. 'What shall we do?'
Pastor B laughed nervously. 'You decide,' he said.
'Just something symbolic,' said the agent.
I squirmed.
'Just so they can have a drink of water,' said the agent.
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Posted by sahelsteve at November 17, 2005 05:48 PM