Because of the affluence I pulled and my benevolence towards everyone, my people, the Rio Hondos found me worthy to be among the stake holders and decision makers at the hem of leadership.
An outbreak had started off and while on my way to Singapore to have some briefing with my clients for crude oil, I got a phone call and when I gazed upon it, the minster was calling.
My attention was urgently needed at the state house. An outbreak of food poisoning had ravaged the people of Rio Hondo so much that in a day the mortality toll rose to eighty percent. This was bizarre and unexpected.
Although Rio Hondo had history of food poisoning which was from the drinking of metallic water, yet such death toll had never been recorded in a day.
Right in my private jet I watched on the screen as hospitals got choked with victims of food poisoning, parents whose wards and loved ones were lost in the outbreak and wailed at the tops of their voices and scampered for the help of the critical stakeholders who could identify the source of the outbreak and stop to it.
It was more than factual that I hated to see my people perish. I wept as I saw corpse of both the young and the old being driven in ambulance to the morgue. There was nothing I could do since my attention was needed in Singapore. My clients in Singapore praised the synthetic nature of the crude oil and ordered more than a million barrel. There was so much wealth to amass now.
Even while in Singapore I watched on TV as the death toll rise and I almost lost focus. I could feel Zion pat me on the shoulders just to nurse me to chin up. It got to an extent that he took away my phones and gadgets of communication, just to make sure emotional entanglement didn’t interfere in our business in Singapore.
Once I rounded off my business in Singapore, I got into my private jet and flew back to Rio Hondo , my once beautiful country which had become a shadow of itself as a result of food poisoning.
I was elated when the minister sent me a memo about the stake holders’ meeting being held in the conference room at the Saint Don Group. We reached a tight agreement about bringing a permanent stop to the food poisoning which was on the verge of smoking away the Rio Hondo.
In the end, we had a dialogue and came to a consensus that a professional nutritionist and a medical professional from New Delhi would be consulted. In that regard, I wrote them a cheque for five million dollars and demanded that issues bordering on this outbreak be placed on my shoulders.
A clapping and standing ovation came through for me as I winked and smiled cheek to cheek.
“World richest man gives five million dollars in the research of food poisoning,” my father, Saint Don read from a newspaper and breathed hard before casting a glance at me.
He had hosted me to a warm dinner after the briefing with the stakeholders a night ago and he was eager to know my welfare and state of affairs at the oil well. Rather instead of discussing business, father and I spent ample time, brooding over the menace of the food poisoning which had left everyone in disarray.
“May their souls rest in peace,” my father intoned the moment he flipped to the next page and saw images of victims of the food poisoning, “Son, I must commend your panache to get rid of this daredevil food poisoning that has befallen us?” Finally he sounded t me.
I paused to sip at my wine, “Father, I wonder what could be the root of this outbreak.”
Saint Don raised a depressed chiseled brow, “Son the same way you wonder is the same way I wonder. This is bizarre,”
He placed the paper on the table so I could see his thick face now, “I am elated you are involved now at least the stake holders wouldn’t have any reason to lag financially .” He took a mugful of wine from the cupbearer who just advanced to his side with a tray of wine.
I grinned, “Father I believe so much in the power of wealth and that is the reason I gave the five million.You know how the stakeholders behave so lackadaisical whenever issues of the public arise. God made me the world richest man so that I could protect my people.”
Saint Don shook his head in agreement, “I am so proud of you, son especially in the area of amassing wealth for the Saint Don Group and in benevolence.” He hummed and sipped, “These days I walk around proudly because my son is the world richest man not in words but for the fact that you increase the net worth of the Saint Don Group from thirty trillion dollars to one hundred and twenty trillion dollars. That is so much money to own the world, son.”
I chortled briefly and poured fresh wine for us, “My pleasure father. I look forward to increasing it as the days go by…”
Father interposed me, “Yes but you must first fight the menace of food poisoning that has ravaged your people. The stake holders are broke. Everyone looks up to you to bring about a permanent solution to it. I don’t know if you watched the news earlier today.”
I shook my head in the negative and dimmed my eyes to listen aptly.
Father said yet further “The masses were clamoring for the world richest man to come to their rescue and I was awed as I thought about what could make the people to love you so much.”
I snorted, stood on my feet, threw my gaze to the picture which hung on the wall. One was when I was a poor ragged delivery boy and the other was now I was rich.
I snarled around and pointed my father’s attention to them, “The pictures on the wall will give a better answer to that question…”
Something was about to happen…