The Presidents Niece

"Leave that sucker alone, Aileen!" the Mayor shouted desperately. "Can't you see he's only after your money?"

"No, Mum!" The President's niece tried to show her mother her version of sense. "I have never loved anyone as much as I do Roger. Except you, of course!"

"Its not that I do not like him. I do, very much. His English is very good, showing that he probably went to good schools. But the fact remains that he does not come from good family. Have you ever heard anybody of his family in the news?"

"What would be wrong in lifting him from his humble origins to become somebody, Mum?" pleaded the 22-year old personal assistant to the CEO of UK Holdings. "Lots of the men around Uncle did not come from "good family!" That company was the President's business front, from which he controlled major shareholdings in the diary industry, in power generation, farming and several banks.

Beth could almost hear the quotation marks. It was true that many of the President's men were not from upper-class backgrounds. You could hear it in their accents, and see it in their proud looks. They wanted everyone to acknowledge that they had arrived. You could imagine how people in the village venerated them when they visited there. When they came back to the city they almost expected that everyone should kow-tow to them.

Theirs was new money which insisted on 'shouting from the rooftops'. Their clothes and shoes were showy, their cars flashy, and their speech loud and brash. They had a consuming need to be noticed.

Beth was the Mayor of the capital city and two years older than her brother the President. If His Excellency could bring some of his former schoolmates into his circle, then perhaps the Financial Controller of Goodyear Tyres and Retreads was not such a bad match for her daughter. It would not, perhaps, be such a hard slog to bring him into the family circle, she mused.

"I will speak to your father about what you have just told me when he comes from his constituency duties," she relented. It was election time the following year, so the Hon Muthiora, in common with his fellow members of Parliament, was giving the voters more attention than in the previous three years since the elections.

"That could be the best decision you have made, Mum. Roger could be moved to one of Uncle's concerns or even into statecraft. He will be a rich addition to the family."

"Don't count your chickens before they are hatched, Aileen!" said the Mayor sternly.

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Nearly two years earlier, Roger had attended a meeting at the UK Holdings boardroom. It was Aileen's job to receive the attendees of the meeting and make them comfortable before conducting them to the boardroom. The President was not referred to here except in the most indirect manner as 'the Big Cheese'.

Roger thought the fresh young girl who brought him to the boardroom was on attachment, only to learn that not only was she very highly qualified but was also PA to the big man. In the days that followed he had occasion to speak to the CEO, and inevitably he had to pass through Aileen.

"Please get me PA to UK's CEO," said Roger to his secretary. Presently his buzzer sounded.

"UK on the line for you, sir!"

"Good afternoon! Is that the CEO's office?"

"Yes. How may I help you, sir?" the young voice answered him.

"I must be speaking to the lovely young woman who led me to the boardroom when I was there last week."

She chuckled down the line. "Very likely. Who am I speaking to please?"

"Sorry. I thought my secretary had identified us. I am Roger from Goodyear."

"I beg your pardon, sir. I did not mean to sound rude."

"No, no! It is ok now. Thank for your organisation that day. Some of us did not fail to notice your input."

"Thank you very much, sir. All in a day's work."

Leaving her glowing with that kind word, "May I speak to the boss, please?" She put him through.

In the coming weeks he had occasion to communicate with UK Holdings several times. On most of these he spoke to the CEO, and he asked his secretary to obtain the PA for him so he could chat with her before speaking to her boss. It seemed that they both had seen something in the other.

His friend the head of HR at Goodyear made it his business to know people and their connections. Roger was astonished at the number of people the HR kept in his head. Once, when they were out for a drink, his friend dropped the nugget that Aileen was 'niece to the Big Cheese'. Roger nearly choked on his beer. He scanned the HR's face to see whether he knew about his calls to UK's CEO. But the other did not betray anything.

Luckily for him, the interactions between the two offices continued over a few more weeks, during which Roger took every opportunity to speak to Aileen. Their romance grew by leaps and bounds. It did not take long for him to invite her to a coffee at Java Coffee House.

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As his cock slid out of her cunt, completely vanquished, she let out a long breath. "Never in my life!"

"What, you don't ever want to repeat this?" he asked.

"I have never climbed so high, stayed up for so long, nor come so many times!"

"I started by wanting to give you the very best a woman could ever receive from her lover. I wanted to break some records."

"If you were after the ones in my sex life, I can tell you right here that you have shattered them!" she enthused. "What's more, I never want to be without you in my life ever again!"

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The Hon. Muthiora was disdainful of the idea of his daughter marrying a 'commoner' as he termed it. A CEO, a member of Parliament, or the deputy governor of a county was the lowest he would accept, he told his wife.

This distressed Aileen so much that she went down with flu and had to be admitted at the Lenana Mount Sanatorium for a few days. She loved and respected her parents so much that she did not want to willingly go against their wishes although on this issue she was aware that her mother sympathised with her more than her father did. She told her beau of this development when he came to see her. Roger was astonished to hear of the Honourable's attitude. It puzzled him in no small measure.

Everybody knew that the Muthiora family sprang from the Kikuyu area, where they had built themselves from farming. In their earlier days they had kept cattle whose milk was sold to Kikuyu Dairy Farmers' Coop; had a chicken business that was rumoured to be many thousands of birds strong. John Muthiora been gradually inducted into his parents' business concerns and with his two brothers had helped build them to become even larger. They had expanded to owning a school complex called Riruta Genesis Garden Schools. So the family was indeed among the wealthier ones in the county. Nobody could say exactly how the future President's (he was only the chairman of the party at the time) older sister came to meet John, or in what circumstances. Even more mysterious was how she had accepted his suit. All that was known was that the farming concern and the schools had become even more successful after he had married into that illustrious family. Using his family's reputation and his wife's connections he had then catapulted himself into politics during the last elections. His haughty attitude was therefore baffling to his prospective son in law, given those origins.

Without telling any of her parents Aileen drove to her grandmother's house one Saturday afternoon. The President's mother was widely known to be very partial to her nieces and nephews. Aileen was the oldest of her grandchildren on whom she also lavished her love. Aileen was confident that her granny would give her an understanding ear.

After a delicious lunch with her grandmother, she surprised the matron of the family with the news that she wants to give her a great-grandchild.

"That would be lovely, when the time comes," came the guarded reply. Her Excellency belonged to the older generation who frowned upon unmarried girls having children. She would much prefer that a lavish wedding be performed and from that union children could flow.

"My father seems set to postpone that time indefinitely, Gran," Aileen referred to her problem delicately.

The President's mother laughed softly. "Let me guess. You think he wants to marry you to one of his new-money cronies?"

Aileen's eyes grew wide. "Is that it?" She now saw in her mind's eye certain men who hovered around the Hon. Muthiora, whose pedigree was even more doubtful than those who grazed around the President. "He speaks disparagingly about my boyfriend of two years."

"You have a man in mind?" She hoped he was not too seedy to be brought into her exalted family.

"He has worked his way up the corporate ladder to become the Financial Controller of Goodyear Tyres. My mother told me that she likes him already."

Her Excellency seemed to pause before her next words. "Don't worry any more, my child. The Jamhuri celebrations are less than two months away. We will work something out."

"Oh, don't be so mysterious Gran! What are you planning?"

"Nothing major," said the older woman offhandedly. "Give me his name so that I can add him to my invitees to the Garden Party that follows the public celebrations."

It was Aileen's turn to be silent as the implications clicked through her brain. If Roger were to be Her Excellency's personal invitee, she would inevitably introduce him to the President. She trembled at the idea that her wily grandmother would manouvre it so that the Hon. Muthiora would be witness to that introduction. She quickly fished out her wallet and, smiling, handed her grandmother Roger's business card.

"Thank you for understanding me so well, Gran!"

As she left her grandmother's residence, she was singing to herself. Then her mother's words came back into her mind. 'Don't count your chickens before they are hatched.' This helped to cool her back to her usual sensible self. In that frame of mind she decided that telling Roger about her grandmother's plan would definitely be immature 'counting'.

As she sat on the podium watching the military displays at the Independence Day celebrations, she wished Roger could be allowed to sit with her; but he was as yet a 'civilian'. She had button-holed the master of ceremonies to have him allow Roger a seat in the segment nearest the podium. She could see the President, his Deputy, ministers, military bosses as well as her grandmother in the front row. The Police Band was as usual very good, having added two or three very contemporary tunes to their repertoire this year.

Then the speeches began, to which she barely listened. Her uncle according to protocol, was last, after invitation by the Deputy. He made some sweeping announcements that would surely be of some help to the common people. Aileen hoped no greedy government officials got in between the measures and their actual implementation so that the benefits her uncle envisaged never got to the people as intended.

She stood with the rest of the attendees in the stadium for the national anthem. This marked the end of the public celebrations. Next came the ride to State House for the Garden Party. This had evolved from a simple tea and snacks affair in the early days to become a lavish lunch laid out for some one hundred or so invited guests. It was during this that the President handed out the honours to people who had stood out in the service of their country.

Her Excellency asked that Aileen and Roger be seated at her table during the Garden Party. Also seated at her table were some of her friends as well as one or two others. She had no politicians around her at all.

With the guests well-fed, it was time for the speeches. Aileen as usual hardly paid any attention to them. But she liked to hear her uncle, so when he stood to give out his annual honours, she looked up. It was the usual routine that the recipient was called up as well as some dignitary to hand it over with the President. She was surprised that her grandmother was called up to give an award to the famous author and professor at law, Harrison Ng'ang'a. She did not return to her seat after this and asked to sit next to the Deputy President; the minister for defense made room for her. They could be seen chatting amiably together as the other awards were being given out. When he was done the President stood at attention for the national anthem, after which he returned to his seat. The formal celebrations were over.

Her Excellency chatted on with the DP as if there was nothing else on her mind.

Various dignitaries came up to wish His Excellency good health at this occasion, and most also shook Her Excellency's hand. Members of Parliament, among whom was Aileen's father, came after ministers and commanders of the defense forces. It was all very informal. She saw her grandmother beckoning to her and Roger to come forward. The former, with calm efficiency, moved her small party to the President's left and stood chatting with the First Lady. As Hon Muthiora neared the President she also moved herself behind him, smiling at both he and the MP who was following who now slowed his step to make room for Aileen and Roger. She lay her hand gently on Muthiora's shoulder as he took the President's hand.

Turning her face towards Roger and placing her hand on his back, she said clearly, "Your Excellency, may I present to you Mr. Kiggundu, fiancée to your niece," all the while with her hand laid companionably on Muthiora's shoulder. The latter paused in his step and turned to face the little group as Roger took the President's hand.

"You must invite me to your stag party, Mr. Kiggundu!" joked the President, causing loud laughter by everyone within earshot.

As he moved away, Hon Muthiora's face betrayed no emotion while shaking hands with his mother in law, his daughter and Roger on the sidelines.

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The wedding was held at the Cathedral, followed by a lavish reception ceremony. Everyone expected the President to be in attendance at his eldest niece's wedding, and he was.