Having moved so often from one city to another due to my past diplomatic career there are strangely enough a box or two that has never been unpacked for years. During the past week I ventured and unpacked one. Needless to say 99% were thrown out as junk, but there were a few items of nostalgic importance I kept due to its personal memories of importance to me personally. Amongst these was a match box from my days as ambassador in the then Zaïre  (1989 to 1993) now the Democratic Republic of the Congo (for Democratic read what ever joke you can think of). During my five years there I faced the army and the police in road blocks trying their best to solicit bribes for one or other infraction of non-existing laws ranging from taking photos because there was a camera in the car to brand new tyres lacking tread or not indicating turning usually to the right when one was traveling straight. Enjoying diplomatic status  I usually peeved them off or sometimes gave them a bottle or two of beer which we kept in supply in our cars for such occasions. Oh, it was five years of the survival life which made simple living a challenge and exiting, especially when the army went into payment revolt a number of times and to  such a degree that the evacuation of dependents and non-essential personnel became an immediate priority.

A momento of nostalgia.

Congo matches

I may mention these matches were not that safe as claimed on the box. Another blog of way back time’s nostalgia to follow, but really way way back.

Enjoy a great evening before the start of the new week.

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