Fan-fiction: The Nation of Sulaymaan Options

[Svea Rike]

The Nation of Sulaymaan

Part 1 - The Visit

Bukavu, The Zone
Summer, 2046



The town of Bukavu interrupted their local activities to bear witness to an unusual sight. The town was visited by an armored technical, two trucks and a bus that could best be described as the poor man’s limousine. The emblem of the Global Liberation Army was emblazoned on the doors and hoods of the vehicles, and one could see a bearded man looking out the window of the bus – but they didn’t. The locals knew that if you eyed the wrong man he’d burn down your house, kidnap your children and teach you not to do that mistake again, but not kill you. No, the GLA rarely if ever kill citizens without reason, instead preferring to instruct them on how to be a proper man in the Zone. Such happened to the city of Goma on the other side of Lake Kivu, as they refused to submit to the GLA. Instead of burning them down, the GLA respected their valor and allowed them to live on as a free city-state of sorts, as long as they don’t ally themselves with one of the superpowers controlling Africa.

In fact, the Zone could best be described as neo-feudalist: Sulaymaan is the king, and the local warlords and leaders under his command are the nobles. Each overlord has their own personal army that they are free to do as they wish with, but never to betray their own. Interestingly, Sulaymaan’s closest commanders, Abdul bin Yusuuf and Tahar Ibrahiim, are not nobles. They are effectively part of Sulaymaan’s own army, known as the ‘classic GLA’, while the nobles are part of the ‘new GLA’. This command structure has laid the basis for Sulaymaan’s dream of a ‘GLA nation’, a sovereign state free of laws, corruption, and those snide snakes calling themselves the East and the West.

Quite ironically, before the GLA arrived the Central Africans would fear them as they listened to news reporting on their conquests across the Middle East, their bloody revolutions in North Africa and their invasion of Europe, but when they actually came down to the Congo just seven years ago those pillaging marauders they had heard about where nowhere to be seen. Now they were led by another man named Sulaymaan, who imposed his own order on the rainforest. His philosophy was a strange mix of fanaticism and anarchism, allowing you to live as you like but always regard him as your supreme overlord, never submitting to anyone else. Some would say the GLA actually improved on life in Central Africa, as before they arrived their governments were ripe with corruption, terrorists (unaligned with the GLA) rampaged around and the living conditions were absolutely awful. Sulaymaan and his army tried to improve on infrastructure and civilian services on the basis that the population would stay instead of fleeing. Now of course there is the savage mercenary having his way with a woman or a technical gunner opening fire because he’s drunk, but those things don’t happen as often as outsiders think. If you’re strong enough, or simply look strong enough, the GLA would leave your family be, maybe even recruit you.

Such a thing would come to happen with Baji Akinwe, an engineer and mechanic living in Bukavu. Baji had lived in the Democratic Republic of the Congo his entire life, and earned himself a Master’s Degree in Engineering at the University of Kinshasa twenty years ago. He moved to Bukavu to take care of his elderly mother, who died several months later. Baji has come to respect the GLA, not the new GLA or the fanatics calling themselves the GLA, but the old GLA under Mohmar Deathstrike. They had the courage to stand up to tyranny, oppression and imperialism that the United States, Europe and China were spreading around the world – although that might be his idealized vision of a good world talking. But that doesn’t mean he likes them, quite contrary: He respects the GLA, but also loathes their actions, believing they would do much better as a political movement rather than terrorist organization. But he would never admit that, because if you do, well…

The armored caravan carried none other than the top man himself, Anwar Sulaymaan. For several months now he had been traveling around eastern Congo actually looking for intelligent people, not brutes. He was smart, that one: He knew that sooner or later the GLA would be destroyed either from the inside or the outside, and the savage army of brutes that aligned themselves with Sulaymaan wasn’t enough to survive. He needed brains, much more so than brawns, and as such recruited the most intelligent people he could locate according to ID files taken from the former capital of the Congo. Rolling down the cobblestone streets until they reached the garage of Baji. The technical parked in the middle of the street, while the two trucks unloaded professionally-geared warfighters – Sulaymaan’s personal bodyguards. The bus rolled onto the dirt driveway, and Baji peered out the window of his little abode.

“Eli, stay inside, I’ll see to this.” Baji said to his little brother, Eli Akinwe, before he stepped outside to greet the visitors. The armored side door of the bus slid open and out stepped two additional warfighters and a man with a big beard, Sulaymaan. Realizing who it is, Baji stopped in his path and immediately dropped to the ground, kneeling like a medieval knight meeting the king. But Sulaymaan just laughed.

“O rise, my brave knight of the round table, thy valor is honored,” he said while making a rising motion with his hand.

“You… you’re General Sulaymaan, the one! The only!” Baji said with astonishment.

“Now, now, just because I happen to lead the GLA doesn’t make me a general. I am better than that rank. I am an emperor.”

“Of course, my emperor, of course.” Baji clenched his right fist and put it over his heart, like he’s heard the ancient Roman generals did when they met Caesar.

“I have been told you are the most competent mechanical and electrical engineer in the region, and I do have use of any engineers I can find.” Sulaymaan stretched out his arms. “I welcome you into the fold of the Global Liberation Army, the just ones, as we create a truly independent nation in central Africa.”

Baji was out of words. He knew the GLA needed weapons developers but he had no idea they would come for him, not in a million years. At that moment a thousand things went through his head. Should he accept their offer? What if he refuses? Will they kill him then? Could he live with serving the most notorious terrorist in the world? What should he have for dinner? Did he check is car’s tires yesterday like he planned? Baji was caught in a storm of thoughts before he subconsciously blurted out “Ok.”

“Excellent! My empire is in dire need of new and better combat vehicles, I mean, look what I ride around in: An old bus! Does that even compare to the armored war machines of the Americans or the Chinese?”

“But, sir, the GLA is known for the extensive collection of homemade tanks and APCs – aren’t those powerful enough?”

“Those mechanical monstrosities? We had plenty of them during the reign of Mohmar, but the few that are left are under my command. They may look tough but comparing them with the vehicles of our enemies is like comparing a sports car to a bicycle. You are a master engineer! You and many others will be the backbone of our new military-industrial complex! Another building block for our nation. I believe, with the resources at our disposal and already large industrial base of the former Republic, we can field an army that will make those imperialist dogs run like the cowards they are!”

“Could we really become a true nation? Powerful enough to challenge our enemies? My own city, we are led by the former mayor – he erected a statue in your honor, but he is incompetent. My leader, I would gladly serve as your master engineer.” Baji didn’t know what he was saying. He was really swearing loyalty to the biggest mass murdered this side of… well, anywhere! Was it out of fear of getting killed right then and there, protection of his little brother, who was peering out the window in curiosity, or did he really want to help the terrorists in his subconscious? Either way, Baji couldn’t say another word before Sulaymaan clapped him on his shoulder and was off again, leaving behind a guard to watch over him until the armored truck that would take him away arrived.

“Oh sweet Mary… what have I gotten myself into?”

*****
Just a little story of mine I was thinking about during a boring class in school. Hope you like it, part two will come some time next week, month, year, I don't know. Okay, hopefully not next year...

This post has been edited by Svea Rike: 20 Mar 2015, 13:21

[chemisthypnos]

This is such an amazing read. I have enjoyed reading every update to this series! Thank you so much for taking the time to write this.