President Olivia Chivala Munyi-Lee left her impromptu cabinet meeting in the middle. The UN was calling. Despite refusing to take the calls, the White House persisted.

“The blood of our people—men, women and children, victims of post-poll chaos, political figures who were assassinated, and police officers who die in the course of their duty trying to maintain law and order in a seemingly lawless society. We may forget them, but not their sacrifice.”

However, even after paying the ransom, her abductors didn’t keep their part of the bargain. That was until today in the morning when she came with tears in her eyes and confessed.

“It was Rob,” she cried. “My boyfriend. We cooked everything up. Dad, I’m so sorry I stole from you.” Like she was contrite.

“All evidence is pinned to you. It is your bulimic belly that is securely carrying a truckload of the drugs, your designer clothes that were concealing your junk, Miss Mule,” Inspector Lina said. “Not your dad’s, junkie. And if the grapevine is anything to go by, your father is retiring tomorrow. If I were you, I’d try to persuade Dad to chunk off part of his send-off package to get me the best criminal lawyers around. The judges might decide to get you a few years or a hefty fine, or both, which of course, Dad will pay, or you will rot in jail, and no one will appeal.”