Saddam's Sister

Chapter 1 - Matt’s Story

Apr 2006 : London

It was ‘The latest in a litany of failures’, as the words crossed his mind Sir David’s thoughts continued ‘I could write a song with that as the first line and make a shed load of money, look at that Elton John fellow’.

‘Latest in a litany of failures’ not quite as powerful as ‘the banks of the great grey-green, greasy Limpopo River’ by Kipling, but none the less it had a certain literary feel. He turned from watching ‘the banks of the oily muddy rubbish-strewn Thames’, back to the folders on his desk.

"... SAS B Squadron troop 7 was commanded by Captain Rowland and comprised of Captain Rowland and 8 men. The team was supported by a platoon of American Marines who provided transport (3 x Stryker APCs) and perimeter defence.

The objective was to collect all documents and capture all persons on the premises and transport them to Mosul Police HQ for examination and interrogation."

Sir David Gromes, seated in his office in Vauxhall, had just been handed the report on the botched attempt to capture the family of the Five of Clubs, America’s hollywood speak for Colonel Ali Abid Al Tikriti.

Ali al Tikriti had been a special Presidential Adviser to Saddam Hussein for twelve years until 1993, he returned to his army unit and in 2002 had been promoted to Colonel in command of the Republican Guard for the defence of Baghdad.

"They arrived at house 37, Section 5, Risala, Fallujah at 19:15 12/12/2004. Captain Rowland led his men into the compound and entered the building, meeting no resistance. Four men were detailed to secure and search the ground floor, while Captain Rowland, and the other men led by Sergeant Sinclair, ascending to the first floor to secure any persons and documents present.

Entering the main room on the first floor, they found two women, one being Ali’s mother aged 64 sitting in a wheelchair with a rug or blanket over her legs, and the other being his sister (Salwa Abid Al Tikriti) aged 30. On the bed were Ali’s three children, Hassayn aged 9, Aiysha aged 5 and an infant aged about twelve months.

Sergeant Sinclair instructed them in Arabic to sit still and to show their hands. The elderly women fired an AK47 from under her blanket aiming at Sergeant Sinclair and the troopers, hitting Trooper Wynne in the legs, the troopers returned fire killing both women with head shots. As the firing commenced, the boy Hassayn lifted a Kel-Tec PF9 9mm semi-automatic pistol from under his body and fired one shot into the head of Sergeant Sinclair killing him immediately and another into the head of Trooper Stone.

Corporal Williams fired at the shooter, two rounds of 12 gauge fire using a Remington 1100 Tactical Shotgun hitting Hassayn and his two siblings, killing them all.

Captain Rowland ordered the evacuation of Troopers Stone and Wynne to the Combat Support Hospital at Fallujah. One of the Stryker APC vehicles was despatched with the wounded and the body of Sergeant Sinclair. (Trooper Stone was declared Dead on Arrival at the facility.)

Captain Rowland then completed the search, finding no documents he used explosives to remove a safe from the ground floor for transport to Mosul.

He then ordered Sergeant Allen to place demolition charges in the house and demolished the house with the bodies of the family inside.

The team then onboarded the two Stryker vehicles, returned to Camp St Mere - Fallujah and then by helicopter to Camp Marez - Mosul.

The safe was opened, but found to not contain any documents relating to Ali Abid Al Tikriti or Operation Wettingen."

Sir David‘s deputy, MI6’s head of Intelligence for the Middle East, had added the comment No further action recommended at this time to the Military Memo.

An additional page was attached to the report, with a copy of the report from Iraq Special Police Service Mosul.

Reema Abid Al Tikriti

4 March 2006

Unit 17-SP-I-DF3

Camp Marez

Reema Abid Al Tikriti was arrested on 17 Oct 2004, and being held and interrogated in connection to her knowledge of her husband’s involvement in Operation Wettingen. She has not provided any information which is relevant and denies all knowledge of his banking arrangements or past activities.

The prisoner Reema Abid Al Tikriti was transferred to the National hospital at Mosul under guard having been taken ill during the night (27/28 Feb 2006), the medical doctor (Maj. A S Fellowes RMC) declared her heart rate elevated at 180 bpm and temperature of 39.6 C.

She exited the hospital during the day of 28 Feb, and has not been seen since.

Dr Alisha al-Faisal, reported at 16:40 that her Abayah and shoes had been taken from the hospital change rooms. No report of Reema Abid Al Tikriti being seen leaving the hospital or of any further sightings have been received.

Per MI6 instructions, the reward of £5,000,000.00 for her live capture is in place and the notification has been distributed with her description to all American, NATO, Iraqi units and police personnel.

Sir David muttered Incompetent buffoons and closed the file, dropping it into the ‘out’ basket.

Chapter 2

5 June 2006 : Malundi

Matthew Winston Walsingham-Altherstone-Featherston-Haugh was walking in a reverie, the track that led through the Miombo forest was open and park like. With no need for him to be alert, he allowed his mind to drift. When the strident noise impinged on his thoughts, he knew that it was out of place, but could not at first identify what it was or where it came from. The General, ten paces ahead, stopped and turned to look at him. Matt realised that it was his pager call tone and then felt the vibration through his web belt. In Matt’s defence, it had been seven months since it had last gone off. Hashim at the bank was good at handling the trivia that made up 99% of the incoming communication in Matt’s world. Pulling the pager from his belt, he checked the message.

3-27, Matt was startled. He had carried a pager for 14 years, ever since he began spending more time out of his office in dealing with customers and branches, than behind his desk. To prioritise his responses, he had come up with a formula with his secretary. Code 1- was a caller wanted to speak with him when convenient. Code 2- was the caller needed to speak with him as soon as possible and Code 3- was a matter of life and death and the caller needed to speak with him right now!

In the 14 years of carrying the pager he had only had three calls ‘Code 3’.

With extended thumb and little finger, he motioned to the General, who was still watching him that he needed to make a phone call. The General let out a whistle that could have been that of a local bird, had the birds had lungs the size of an Ostrich, and the Rangers ahead and behind looked for the signal. Pointing left and right, palm down, the General waved the men into the shrubs and bushes. Two steps in and they squatted, all 14 of them disappearing.

Matt opened his backpack and extracted his BlackBerry Cell phone, switching it on he found no signal bars, so he rummaged in the side pocket for his Signal Booster and Garmin GPS. Assembling the ‘toast-rack’ uni-directional antenna, and connecting the wire, he looked for a high spot or tree to attach it. When the Garmin gave him a direction and distance to the village tower, he made the antenna fast to the branch of a tree, carefully checking the direction to his home signal. Matt pushed the grounding plate into the earth and connected the wires and battery. Then plugging his cell phone into the signal amplifier lead, he checked the signal, two bars, should be sufficient he thought and entered his speed dial 27.

27 was the dial code of Maha al Ravi. She had not been in contact since Matt and his partners had sold the Kuwait Logistic and Distribution Company in 2005 to a Qatari business group.

Maha was CEO of the Kuwait Oil Conglomerate. She was the daughter of a very senior Kuwait diplomat and had grown up in various major cities around the world. At 13 she had been enrolled in a Swiss International High School and had gone from there to Cambridge, studying organic chemistry, petrochemicals and in particular resins and epoxies. A year at Harvard to get her MBA and then back to Kuwait at the age of 23. She had worked in the country’s Petro-chemical Research company and became the lead on a research team after only two years. The projects that she led, came in ahead of time and below (the very generous) budgets. As a woman in an Arab society, she had several disadvantages but some advantages. The major disadvantage was that people did not take her seriously at first. They did not like the fact that she was somewhat pushy and used the ambitious American management style, in an Arab laid back environment where getting along was more important than getting it done.

She was not included, for social and gender reasons, in the general chattiness of the organisation. This gave her more time for concentrating on work, and also less requirement for social interaction.

The al Ravi family was one of the leading Kuwait families with direct access to, and attention from, the Emir. They had several marriage connections and social interaction was high. This meant that when Maha gave an instruction, it was treated as a Royal Command. She and her sisters had always had servants and minions around, so they were used to arranging things and instructing people.

She easily fell into the leadership role, and the workers around her, because of her training, her connections and her background, did not resent the fact that she gave the orders. Even so, they were irked at the additional effort required from them. She rose to MD of the research company and from that success she was transferred to planning and running the projects for the maintenance and expansion of the pipelines. Next she was tasked with the expansion of the worldwide retail sales of Kuwait petroleum products. Shortly this was followed by managing the infrastructure upgrades and scheduled equipment replacement of the refineries. In just 13 years she had experienced each of the major aspects of the Kuwait oil business. So when the country decided to create an over-riding organisation to ensure the profitable vertical integration of the industry, her multiple and varied successes made her the best qualified to run it. For forms sake, and to free her so that she could actually spend time managing, a senior group of male Kuwaitis had titles and offices to allow them to be the face of the oil industry. Always checking back with Maha for what she wanted them to do.

Matt had collaborated with her when working on the supply and delivery of the Allied Forces invasion logistics. They had a high mutual respect for each other’s ability. Arab men are not comfortable when associating with women who are not their family, whether at work or socially. The genders are almost always separated. Arab women are equally uncomfortable in the presence of non-family men. But Maha from her upbringing and education was more western than Arab in this respect. Matt of course was comfortable in socialising with women no matter what their background. Naturally they found it easy to converse and work together, much easier for Maha than with her countrymen. Matt and Maha had several social meetings over meals during the development, and formed a good business relationship.

M1 Abrams Tanks and military trucks use an inordinate amount of fuel. As part of the war supply chain, KLDC was tasked with delivering the fuel and that meant integrating the Kuwaiti fuel extraction, storage and delivery systems, to both the US military and the KLDC logistic and procurement systems in a smooth and effective application. The integration had called for design and development of the highest order. The fact that it was successful, brought credit to all involved, it was the application design genius of Matt, and project management of Maha plus a handful of others that made it successful.

Matt and a couple of his developers had then collaborated with Maha in creating a planning and control system for her so that she had better appreciation of the costs and outputs of her various refineries. They installed on-line metering of the storage tanks which solved a large number of her reporting problems. She had been extremely grateful and had expressed her admiration for their skills to Sheik al Siali and KLDC.

From her position of power, she could call George Bush or Tony Blair and have them call her back within 15 minutes. Or she could have gone for the really important people such as Cheney or Mandelson and they would have called back in 30. The Fifth fleet or a SAS squadron would have been despatched had she requested it. You don’t mess around with the person in control of umpty billions of barrels of oil, so Matt wondered why on earth had she called him on a matter of life and death?

The phone rang twice and then he heard Maha’s voice.

Salaam Aleikum.

Wa Aleikum a’Salaam, Maha, Quaif halich?

Tamaam al hamdullilah. Is that you Matt?

Yes Maha, How is the family, I hope that all are well

Al Hamdullilah, and with you Matt

I am fine thanks, retirement suits me. The Arabic social niceties out of the way Matt could get to what was the purpose of the call

How can I help you Maha?

I have a situation Matt and you were the first person I thought of. In fact you are the only person I could think of that can help.

What is the problem?

It is not something that can be discussed at the Club house.

Matt had once looked out of Maha’s office window on a visit, and commented on the 40ft white golf ball’ 100 yards away, on the roof of the Telecom building, Kuwait’s contribution to the world wide spying operation Echelon. Maha had remarked that all telephone calls and conversations collected by such ‘Golf balls’ worldwide, were sent to the 19th hole or the Club House". That being the building at GCHQ Cheltenham. Maha was always aware of the fact that her discussions, meetings and communications could be used to deprive Kuwait of millions, should the dealers and traders have inside knowledge of the decisions taken.

OK Maha, I will come through to you, I am at the Forest Reserve, but I will make a plan.

Thanks Matt, I have booked you on the 12:30 flight from Bujumali via Addis Ababa

I do not know if I can make the Capital by 12:30, I am out in the forest itself

I also reserved a place on the 15:20 via Nairobi and Abu Dhabi, and the 17:10 via Dubai. My driver will be waiting at the Airport.

Thanks Maha, I am not sure which flight I will make, but I am on my way

He will wait until you arrive, and Matt, thank you.

She disconnected and Matt switched off the call and spoke to the General, I need to be at the airport, 12:30

The General stepped into the middle of the track, let out his whistle again and then tapped the top of his head with his fingers. The Rangers copied the signal up and down the line and then came trotting up, stopping in a rough circle around Matt and the General.

Matt retrieved the grounding plate and the aerial, disconnected the cables from the battery and put everything back into his daypack. He stored the cellphone and GPS in his belt pouches and stood up. The last of the Rangers to arrive was Sam the Bushman he always worked the point and had the furthest to return.

The General said, OK exercise is over. We need to return to the village. Sam how far and how long to get there, just four of us?

Sam looked around for about five seconds, Four Klicks, through the Gorge, about 35 - 45 minutes. On the track, another eight Klicks and maybe two hours 40, but easier to follow. Ever since Sam saw the film Apocalypse Now, everything was answered in Klicks whether this was because it fit the San language with its dozen of clicks and clucks, no-one knew, and whether it referred to kilometers or approximate time taken to reach a point was also obscure, but nobody asked, as the explanation might have embarrassed Sam, and left the questioner no wiser.

The General called Benjamin, I need you to come with us, you will be driving. The rest of you will return following the track, Machambo, take command.

Matt, Sam, Benjamin and the General gathered together. The General gave the order Make safe. They removed the magazines from their rifles and placed them in the pouches attached to their belts. Each of them worked the bolt two-three times and then locked the bolt in the rear position. They checked the receiver that there was no round in the working parts, and then called Safe held it so that one of the others could check. Releasing the bolt to move forward and then pressing the trigger whilst the rifle pointed upwards, they released the hammers on empty rifles. The unit had not had an Accidental Discharge incident since Matt hired them, eight years previously, and they intended to keep it that way. The four of them handed their packs to Machambo for his group to carry back to the village and then with rifles and belt pouches only, they set off at a trot.

Two hundred meters down the track, Sam turned right and led between a gap in the Miombo trees, the Acacia thorn trees and Butterfly bushes. They followed a game trail made by what appeared to be a very small animal. Pushing through the vegetation they came to the river. Matt took a 50 metres length of 550 Para-cord from his belt pouch and asked Sam for his cord. Joining them he placed the knot around a tree, some three metres off the ground, and above the first stout branch. Then unwinding the cords he walked the two metres to the waters edge, removed his belt, handed the belt and his rifle to Sam, Bring these across for me Holding the two ends of the rope in his hand, he did a flat racing dive into the water, his feet already feathering in a fast crawl before he hit. In four - five strokes his feet touched down on the other side, 20 metres away. Fixing the ropes to another tree but this time at waist height, he took up as much of the stretch in the cord as possible, he called across for the others to follow.

The Rangers were strong and fit, but very few could swim with any certainty, and with clothing and rifles in the fast moving current, they would have been at risk. One after the other, the three remaining, clipped onto the line using snap hooks from their pouches attached to the D rings of their belts, and slid down the double cord to the far side, without even getting their feet wet. Matt undid the cord and, pulling on one end, retrieved the cords coiling them loosely and carried them, mountaineer style across his chest with one arm and his head through the loops. Sam returned Matt’s belt and rifle, and the General said OK Sam, let’s pick up the pace.

Up and out of the riverside vegetation Sam led, up into the Montane forest. The Ironwood and Stinkwood trees were far enough apart to allow for fast movement, as long as the group did not slide or trip on the thick moss that covered ground, rocks and trees alike. After less than a kilometer of running Matt felt the pain in his side, an exercise related transient abdominal pain or simply a stitch.

Christ, how can I be so unfit he thought. He walked ten-twelve kilometers six days a week, worked out with weights for an hour each day, and here he was breathing like a walrus and hurting like baby after only one kilometer. The only known cure for a stitch was to lie down and wait for the pain to subside. Matt would rather cut his arm off than allow the General and Sam, both of whom must have been nearly 60, to laugh at his weakness. Hey Sam, sing us a song Matt called out.

Ha! Mpofu you think if I sing, I will not have enough wind to run, and be slow and weak like a baby, I can hear you sobbing like a woman.

Damn, thought Matt, that is exactly what I was hoping. No Sam, but if you sing, my ears will hurt so much that I will not feel the stitch in my side.

Hau so young and so weak. said Sam, but he started a San running song which soon had all four running in cadence, which for some obscure reason, makes running much easier. Although the clicks and words were incomprehensible to all but Sam, they were humming and singing along to the sounds of Sam’s voice. Soon the pain dissipated and Matt was able to relax and enjoy moving through the forest, climbing to the crest above them. The broad leafed trees providing shade although the temperature was well above 30C and the air humid.

As they cleared the ridge, the General pulled his handheld short range radio from his belt and called the control room. When they responded, he came to a stop, Sam how long to the village?

Ten, maybe 15 minutes Sam replied.

Control this is Alpha one, Mr Matt needs to be at the airport by 12:30, we will be arriving in ten minutes and will be ready to leave in 15. I want a convoy and outriders. Benjamin will be driving Elsie One and he is arriving with us. Over.

Alpha one we confirm you require three car convoy and two outriders to be ready in 15 minutes to carry Mr Matt to the airport. Benjamin will drive Mr Matt in Elsie One. Over.

Control, that is correct. Alpha one out.

Thanks Sam, let’s go. and they resumed running with Sam singing again.

Twelve minutes later they cleared the forest and split up, with Matt’s house 200 meters to the right and the village 350 meters downhill to the left.

Chapter 3

Matt went up the steps onto the veranda and into the house. At the entrance he opened the gun safe, stowed the rifle and magazines, and relocked. Hanging up his belt and the paracords he removed his boots, he headed upstairs to his bedroom. Clothes into the wash-basket, under the shower, fast in and out, and dry off as he moved to the dressing room.

Tailored twill slacks in a light fawn colour and a cotton shirt, Jodhpur ankle boots, and he was ready to go.

Matt picked up his travel holdall from the wardrobe and walked down stairs, he transferred his pager and cell phone from his webbing belt to his leather belt and then walked out to the veranda.

He closed up the house and as he started to walk to the village, the Toyota Land Cruiser (Elsie) came to meet him. Benjamin brought the vehicle to a stop and Matt climbed into the rear. The General in the front passenger seat, turned and handed Matt a cold drink, The others are already on their way and will wait for us at the entrance gates.

Benjamin said Belt up Mr Matt, we are in a hurry, he and the General already had their four-point belts tightly fitted and Matt followed suit, the padded rally belts pulled tight against his chest. It was ten kms from the village to the entrance to the reserve but Benjamin covered the gravel road in about 15 or 20 mins, bouncing through the ruts and channels and drifting around the corners, exciting, but Matt was glad that he had not yet opened his drink.

At the entrance gate, the two protection Land Cruisers and two BMW 1100GS dual purpose motorcycles were waiting. All the vehicles and bikes had Blue and Red emergency strobe lights and sirens fitted. The headlights were switched into alternating hi beam - low beam mode once they set off. The Bikes raced off and took up station 500 metres ahead, waving the drivers of other vehicles to the side as the convoy came through. The two waiting Land Cruisers took station, one ahead and one behind Elsie One. It was 320 kilometers from the Forest Reserve to Bujumali International Airport, they had just less than two and a half hours, but with a little luck, the convoy should maintain 140 to 150 kms per hour once they reached the four-lane blacktop. The roads were in good condition but traffic was not used to having VIP convoys taking priority.

Fifty-five minutes and 100 kms down the road, the general’s cell phone rang. Captain Marimba, his adjutant at the Forest Reserve control room, said that he had contacted the national police, Brigadier Ndikumana had arranged an escort to meet the convoy as soon as possible, and lead it to the airport. Marimba had spoken to the airport manager, Mr Arakaza and he would do everything to assist Mr Matt to make the flight.

Another 100 kms and two police bikes, identical to the Ranger outriders’ bikes, joined the cavalcade. With four bikes up front, they could range one-two kms ahead of the cars, and the road was even more accessible as both traffic moving in the same direction and the oncoming trucks and cars, gave way.

They took the ring road around the capital but nonetheless the traffic was much heavier and they had to slow. At 12:15 the airport manager phoned the general, We are still 35 kms from the airport, 25 minutes to arrival the General informed him. Mr Arakaza replied No Problem, go directly to cargo gate 3, a ‘Follow Me’ van will lead you to the plane. We will be waiting. The General confirmed and hung up. Then got onto the convoy radio net and told the outriders to head to the cargo area not the main buildings, and to stop at Gate 3, only Elsie One would go onto the apron.

Twenty-two mins later they arrived at the gate, the riders and the two protection Land Cruisers pulled up and Matt’s SUV drove straight through, following the red and white checkered van directly to the waiting Ethiopian Airlines 747. Matt thanked Benjamin and asked the General to convey his thanks to all the drivers and riders, with congratulations on a fast journey. Take them all to lunch before setting off and they can take it easy going back.

Only the front passenger tube was in place and at the foot of the stairs were the chief immigration officer and the airport manager. Matt opened his holdall to get at one of his passports, but the immigration chief said, Don’t worry Mr Matt, we will sort it out when you get back. The airport manager held out his hand to be shaken, Have a safe journey and return soon

Matt ran up the stairs and as he did so the chief of the ground crew signed the takeoff documents and stepped out of the plane. Once Matt was inside, the aircrew senior swung the door closed and dogged the locking handle. The passenger tube rolled away and the engines started up before the stewardess had even shown him to his seat.

The front row, right window seat was his favourite and it was waiting for him. The steward asked if wanted to keep his holdall or would he like to put it in secure storage on the flight deck. So Matt stored the holdall and returned to his seat as the plane started it’s taxi to the start point. As he sat down, the large man in the next seat said So you are the small technical problem. Matt responded I beg your pardon? The passenger said We were told that there was a slight delay owing to a small technical problem at the airport. Now you are here, we are moving, 15 minutes late. The Captain came over the speakers, Ladies and gentlemen, we are now cleared for takeoff. As there is a strong tailwind, we will be arriving at Addis Ababa at the scheduled time. Thank you for your understanding.

The steward appeared with a tray of drinks and offered it to Matt, Would you like a drink, Mr Ambassador?

Just Orange juice thank you. and he took the small glass. The plane reached the take-off point and the run up of the engines precluded conversation. In minutes, the plane eased out of the climb, the engines dropped to normal cruising level and the seatbelt lights went off.

The man next to Matt held out his hand, Chuck Williams, Fort Worth Texas he said. how did you get stuck with a dump like Malundi for a country?

Matt was saved answering because the steward came and asked Can I get you anything Mr Ambassador?

Thank you yes, a pillow and light blanket if you would, I want to take a rest.

Matt did not need or want a rest, but even less he wanted to talk to ‘Chuckie from Texas’ and justify his life in Malundi.

Chapter 4

Matt lay back and closed his eyes, what could Maha need from him, that only he could deliver and be so important that she had called it ‘life or death’? Nothing came to mind, and it was pointless guessing, in a few hours he would know.

‘Chuckie’s’ question came to the surface, how did he come to be in Malundi?

He was in Malundi because in March 1997 Dillon Perry was appointed Deputy Minister for Overseas Aid and Development, by the new Prime Minister Jack Mainwaring. Three months later Dillon had a conference to organise and he needed a number of business men to fill the chairs and counterbalance the large number of ministers, supplicants and hangers-on from ‘Third World’ countries who took advantage of EU largesse to have four days in Nice at the taxpayers expense. The government was willing to pick up the tab if Matt could spare the weekend.

Matt still had three hours flying time before landing at Addis Ababa, so he went back in his mind, to where it had started.

Sir Michael Walsingham-Altherstone-Featherston-Haugh (pronounced Walston-Fanshaw or just Fanshaw) was appointed Managing Director of Stamford Bank (South Africa), the second largest banking group in Southern Africa. This meant that he was transferred from London to Johannesburg and his wife, his daughter Jennifer and ten-year-old son Matt moved with him. Matt was enrolled in St Johns College, the Eton of South African schools. Sir Michael wanted Matt and his sister to be boarders, to toughen them up and make them self-reliant, but his wife Amanda wanted their children to be at home where she could enjoy them. They compromised, Matt and Jennifer would be weekly boarders. From Monday 8:00 to Friday 5:00, they would board at college, and the weekends they joined their parents in their home in the wealthy suburb of Dunkeld. Each week the driver would take Matt to St Johns in Houghton and his sister to Rhodean in Parktown, just a short distance away, and pick them up again on Friday.

At St Johns, Matt shared a room with three others, Dillon Perry, Mark Allen and Tony Barclay. The four of them became very close friends and soon all four effectively became weekly boarders, as they were permitted by parents and school, to spend the weekends at the Fanshaw home. The fact that Jennifer brought her pals from Rhodean to the house only made life better for the boys. They cruised through high school together and the four stayed on to do Form VI and prepare for University. It was not quite true to say that they cruised through high school, Matt, Dillon and Mark certainly did, but Tony never cruised even though he was academically gifted. He could not be described as dour, or even lugubrious, he was downright miserable. With Tony the glass was never merely half empty, the glass would be cracked and chipped, the water would contain microbes, deadly germs and probably cholera, he would still be thirsty after drinking it and what did it matter anyway, as we are only here for a short time and then we die. They named him Eeyore, after the famous and miserable AA Milne character from ‘Winnie the Pooh’.

With schooling complete they had planned on a ‘Gap six months’ before starting University. Dillon had been accepted at Oxford to read Philosophy, Politics and Economics, and the others were heading for Rhodes and Cambridge. They all demonstrated an interest in computers and Sir Michael arranged for them to spend the three months, before the December holiday season, with a new ‘IT group’ at the bank.

The group had taken delivery of a ‘free trial’ computer which ran a ‘Nested Relational Data Base’ operating system. It had been delivered with just a 50 page photocopied set of ‘Basic Programming Language’ and operating instructions. The ‘group’ consisted of a leader named Joan DeLange, who had the physical attributes of Pamela Anderson and the approach to clothing of Madonna. She had proved somewhat of a distraction to the main IT development team and the manager was anxious to get rid of her. The other person was Frank, a bespectacled programmer nearing retirement who had 20 years experience in the existing accounting and client systems, and no interest in the scramble for promotion in the main IT section. The boys were only too happy to get involved and taking a set of instructions each they quickly had a grasp of how to accomplish simple tasks. The ‘Basic’ programming language approximated normal English and although it had a very limited logic and mathematical vocabulary, it appeared very straightforward.

Sir Michael was complaining one evening about the new government regulations on taxation of credit agreements. It seemed that the government wanted to extract taxes on ‘estimated’ profits, throughout the term of the leases and suspended sales, rather than wait for the completion of the three - five year deals when they would tax only the ‘actual’ profits.

Because of ‘bad debts, cancellations and repossessions’ the estimated profit on the outstanding deals were constantly changing. The change in values of the contracts therefore needed to be recalculated each month to obtain a new value for ‘tax amount due’. Taxes already assessed and paid on those deals which had been cancelled, were refunded and had to be deducted from the current month’s tax payment. The IT department were estimating the time and cost, but could not say when they would be ready. Matt asked his father for copies of the government gazette detailing the new regulations. He approached the calculation of taxes as an intellectual exercise and started developing the program code to perform the task, writing the arithmetic calculation in ‘Basic’ code, exactly as laid out in the Gazette.

He created a list of the data elements which the Gazette said were needed from each contract so that the calculation could be done. He spoke to Joan and the others and she suggested that Mark develop the data base necessary to hold the data, with Frank to assist him and get the actual data downloaded from the mainframe for Matt to work with. Dillon agreed to set about developing the reports and files which the tax authority required as proof of the calculation of tax.

Tony, whilst equally intellectually stimulated by the new computer, was of the firm, and often repeated, opinion that it will never work. He was therefore tasked with proving that it would not work, by developing any valid data sets which would defeat the programs being written.

Sure enough, Tony kept on defeating the calculation algorithm and showing up the flaws in Matt’s code. Matt then re-wrote the error portion and fixed the problem only to be confronted with another of Tony’s data sets. Tony would agree that it was extremely unlikely that a contract would be cancelled, then reinstated and then further amended with an increased capital amount, changed interest rate and extended length of contract all within one calendar month, and certainly the bank could have created a new contract, but if, in the amazingly improbable event that it did happen, then the calculation of the resulting tax amount due, would in Matt’s program calculation, be in error.

So Matt then recoded again (and again and again) so that even under those conditions and even if the sky did in fact fall on their heads, the resulting ‘tax due’ would be correct.

Mark, with Frank’s help and advice, accessed the contract files on the mainframe and created a database containing not only the data from the original systems but all the derived and calculated historical values needed by the new tax regime. Dillon wrote the program to provide the listings as required by the Receiver of Revenue, and then to prove that the transfer of data was correct, he recreated the IT department’s current reports from the new computer database. Tony was as happy as could be, looking for errors and gaps in the reports and happily pointing out any that he found. The guys treated the whole exercise as a game and their objective was to make Tony miserable again by not allowing him any errors that he could rejoice over.

Mark, having completed the data design and populating the database with records from the IT systems, set about creating input screens and maintenance routines to allow the new system to be ‘stand-alone’. Frank providing Mark with examples of the current screens and documents which were in use in the bank.

The computer system with its’ ‘English-like’ Basic Programming language meant that the boys did not have to spend months learning the complex coding rules of the earlier computer languages.

Matt’s sister Jennifer visited to see what the boys were doing and took one look at the ‘green screen’ data entry displays and said Eeww they are so boring, they’re ugly, imagine having to look at those all day. Why can’t they be like the screens on computer games? Mark was really upset and was hurt by the criticism. Then he went to Joan and asked how could they improve the screens when the new computer had such limited capability? You would have to use PCs to front-end the connections and a language such as Java or Visual Basic.

Joan arranged for six PCs to be delivered to the group the next day (rank hath it’s privileges) and loaded them up with VisBasic compilers. She sat with Mark and showed how to design a schema or set of rules that could apply to all the screen entries.

When the mouse or cursor was placed over an input element, they increased the font size threefold, moved it to the centre of the screen, changed it to a contrasting colour, created a box with a highlighted margin, provided buttons within the margin for data descriptions, help information and additional details about the element. They provided a choice of mosaic backgrounds and colours so that the operator could choose for themselves. After some thought they determined a way that the code could fetch the ‘rules’ for formatting and content from a data dictionary rather than coding it into each screen element. Three weeks later, Jennifer on a second visit, opined that Wow, now they are really cool.

Joan did what any good leader does, made sure that they knew what was wanted, provided them with any resources that they asked for and then kept out of their way. Her praise and congratulations on each item delivered, including Tony’s test results, kept them motivated. They hadn’t once noticed that they had been working to 10:00 or 11:00 each night, nor that they often arrived at 6:30 in the morning with new ideas on how to solve a particular problem.

Seven weeks from the start, when Tony could find nothing wrong with the output, and Joan was happy with the quality, they took the ‘month-end’ files and ran the tax routines. Matt set an appointment with his father for all of them, and they delivered the new tax calculation system. They showed that each of the requirements of the Gazette were met, and assured him that the data was real live system data and provided copies of the supporting comparative reports. Sir Michael congratulated them and said to leave it with him. He had received, only two days before, the estimate from IT that it was a six month project and would cost R4,2 million.

Sir Michael called in his Finance director, and his external auditors and asked them to check the results. Three days later, to Sir Michael’s astonishment, they reported that it was completely and absolutely correct.

Chapter 5

Sir Michael told Matt that they were lunching at the Country Club. The two of them were seated at the lunch tables under the oaks, when Sir Michael’s other guests arrived. He introduced Matt to John Lewis a senior partner of the banks external law firm and to David Mckenzie a senior partner of the international accounting firm who conducted the bank’s audit. After small talk and lunch, they sat over coffee.

Mr Mckenzie started, Matt I do not know if you realize what a feat you have pulled off. The programs that you wrote are the first available solution for the new tax regime and my firm has 20 other clients that would want them. If you were to market them, they would sell at one million Rand per client on installation. The fact that they are available now, instead of six months will save the clients hundreds of thousands in personnel and audit costs.

Lewis added We have 50 finance house clients that will need to comply with the new laws, although they are smaller and probably not in the one million market, if you had a scaled down version they will all be in the market for your system.

Sir Michael picked up the conversation. "Matt this for your consideration. We would suggest that you form a company to develop, market and implement your system. John and David are willing to be your legal and your accounting advisors, they will provide all services, and charge you the standard rate, but extend credit to the company until such time as it is able to pay. I will provide working finance for offices, equipment and staff and any guarantees necessary.

They will also arrange for junior staff to be placed in the company to carry out daily operations, drawing up contracts, billing, payroll etc. I suggest that you hire Bill Adendorf who was a senior marketing manager of the bank and retired only three months ago, to front the sales and marketing effort. Potential clients may feel that a bunch of teenage schoolboys should not be offering world class accounting solutions.

What we suggest is that the company is formed, with David and John taking 5% each for their deferring of the payments, providing advice and introducing their client base. I take 10% for providing all the finance and being available at all times to give you direction, should you want or need any, and for introducing your system to the major banks. I will take all the financial risk, and David and John are only at risk for their time. We also suggest that you provide 5% for a Staff Share Scheme which will allocate profits and bonuses from the scheme’s dividends, and that the 75% remaining, be put into the Matthew Walston Fanshaw Trust fund."

John Lewis said The rules are that you sign nothing, no sales contracts, personnel letters, no agreements of any kind without my, or my clerks’ signature already being there.

David said My audit clerks will OK your books every month, to make sure that you are not making silly mistakes or being defrauded, believe me, the staff, suppliers and clients have invented hundreds of schemes to put your money in their pockets. Hopefully we know all of them. You are too inexperienced to take on the crooks at this time, you will learn, but the learning process could cause you to lose the company or at least thousands of rands.

Lewis leaned forward and put a folder on the table. The front had the printing Matthew Walsingham-Altherstone-Featherston-Haugh Trust Fund. Lewis said I have incorporated it as an SPF in Netherlands Antilles, to be the nominal owner of the 75% shares. The SPF is a Dutch name for a front company which allows a wonderful tax regime, giving you a 100% participation exemption and with just an annual flat fee. I have also opened an account in the trust name and deposited a $1000.00 amount.

What about the other guys, and the system for the bank? asked Matt.

Sir Michael said, They will be going on with their lives, Oxford and Cambridge, they have plans which you can of course discuss with them. My advice would be that you are all employees, and even that you are all paid the same salary to prevent any feeling of being taken advantage of. Joan will get a major promotion at the bank, Stamford will pay you each an amount for the work already done, and keep a copy of the code you have developed, we will also undertake not to sell or distribute it to any third party. You will own the code for future development and sales. Apart from Stamford, you will license the system’s use to the clients for whom you undertake to develop and implement. We would suggest that you never ‘Sell’ the code only allow use of it, but that you can discuss with Lewis.

Think about it, ask any questions you want, I would like to take your guys to lunch tomorrow, to thank them for their wonderful system, if you would arrange it. We can eat here again if that suits you said Matt’s father.

Matt was in a daze, 18 years old, only three months out of school and he was looking at multimillion income. He was smart enough to know that the wiser heads made sense. If he wanted to extend the shares to the others, he could always do it at a later date, but once given, they could not be taken back. Dillon and Mark were serious about going back to the UK and Tony, whilst critical to the success was not the most enthusiastic supporter of a new venture. Dillon planned to follow his grandfather into politics and would not be deterred. Mark wanted to be out of South Africa, but was not in any specific rush or had any specific timeframe.

Matt also knew that his father would be happier if he followed their advice now, as it would indicate that he would also be more likely to listen to them in other more expensive and risky matters.

Did he really want to jump into a major business, lose perhaps his opportunity to have ‘fun’ at University, go straight from school into working?

His response, as usual, was Why not?

The next morning Matt informed the group that they would be dining with his father. He included, at his father’s request, both Joan and Frank.

After lunch Sir Michael took from his pocket a series of envelopes with names typed on the front, and handed to each of them the respective envelope. I have awarded you each a bonus for the excellent work done over the last two months. Joan and Frank, you will note that I have had your current salary for the two months deducted from the total, and your tax and other deductions, so that you all are rewarded equally, but still I think that you will be happy. Boys, you will need to talk to someone about your tax situations, but otherwise, enjoy.

They opened the envelopes and looked at the cheques for R25,000.00. Considering that one could buy a very nice new VolksWagen for R8,000.00 and a house for R100,000.00 (Joan’s salary as a senior IT analyst was less than R3,000.00 per month) then these were very handsome payments indeed. Matt talked to his three friends when they returned home and Dillon decided that he would stick to his plan and go to Oxford, but the other two wanted to join Matt in starting up the company.

In the first year with Bill Adendorf making the sales introductions, they did R15 million sales and R8 million billing. Matt employed one of the bank’s most experienced service managers to hire staff that could handle the client training and system implementation tasks, whilst Matt concentrated on fixing any requests and client specific system modifications. Tony continued in his role as test manager, or as Matt called him The Prophet of Doom and played a crucial role in building the company’s, almost unique, reputation for systems that did not ever go wrong.

From then on it really took off. Matt hired a number of enthusiastic programmers and together they created an Enterprise Resource Planning application, several accounting packages, and a number of Engineering and Manufacturing applications to connect with and complement the accounting and ERP applications.

Three years later Matt and Tony opened the London branch, which Tony pointed out, Was certain to fail. The following year they transferred Head Office to London. Matt bought a three bedroom home in Upminster, to house himself and Tony and at 25, was acclaimed Young Entrepreneur of the Year by the English Chamber of Commerce.

Things had settled down and Matt was heading up a development company of 250 people in six countries when Dillon phoned and asked him to help make up the numbers at a United Nations Aid and Development conference in Brussels. Dillon thoughtfully provided Matt with the background sheets on all the supplicant countries.

Chapter 6

May 1997 : Nice

Matt had sat through one and a half days of presentations from the world’s poorest countries, and on Saturday evening, attended the final dinner. Sunday would be for the donors and supplicants to arrange follow up meetings. The poorest countries needed advanced and complex computer systems as much as they needed an additional few million people each.

He was seated at a table with several other donor representatives and the teams from three of the poorer countries. The talk had gone on for a couple of hours, the speeches had been made, the toasts drunk and the self congratulations of the EU organisers had been extravagant. He looked surreptitiously at his watch 10:05, fifteen minutes and he could shake hands all round, say goodbye to Dillon and sneak off back to the hotel.

Don’t you agree Mr Walston Fanshaw. He was startled to hear his name, I am sorry, I missed that. What were you asking?

We were saying that education and medicines are the top priority for any country The speaker was an official from France and a socialist member of the European parliament.

I am sure that you are right replied Matt.

General ‘something or other’, the name Matt had not really heard or remembered, but did recall that he was from Malundi and was seated next to his nephew, said I spent two years a Sandhurst, Mr Fanshaw, and the one thing I learned was that when an Englishmen said ‘I am sure that you are right’, they really meant ‘you are talking nonsense, but I am much too polite to mention it’. Why don’t you tell us what you really think?

"Well it is my observation that when a Nigerian or an Indian or a Pakistani studies and becomes a doctor or lawyer an engineer or programmer, the first thing they do is emigrate to Britain or America. So the education investment that the country of origin made is lost. Of course it is great for the USA and for us in the West. We get the brightest and best of the world’s poorest countries, already trained and productive, to come and work for us at what is by western standards, low salaries. I am not sure how