DEMOCRACY

February 24th, 1993
The Samgolan Civil War has ended. Although the Samgolan People's Front has been dismantled, and it's major leaders arrested by the Task Force Europa and arraigned in Kamidye, their fate remains uncertain. While discontent has dropped considerably in the bustling capital of Kamidye, the rural outskirts of the country remain in the tenuous hand of local and so called 'National Militias,' which roam and pillage the countryside, acting as law enforcers to their local communities. Elections are slated to occur on June 2nd, 1993 and the major political parties are slating up to begin campaigning around the nation. Because of the war, it's predicted that voter turnout out will be low, and many are curious as to whether democracy itself will remain standing if the European task force, a mixed mission of nearly 6,500 troops, departs Kamidye.

Election of 1993

The election cycle has officially begun, but few voters are excited. Those in the urban environments are attempting to get back to work. While those in the outskirts are attempting to literally rebuild in the wake of a destructive civil war that killed more than 80,000. The political parties, several of them formed in the vacuum formed in the aftermath--have little idea of their popularity or the support for any of their ideas.



Samgolan Provinces

• Kamidye: Federal capitol and considered exclusive to any of the seven Federal Provinces
• Makumbe
• Ziwa
• Soussiam
• Onige
• Dabrado
• Djidan
• Nambé

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Election of 1993



* Week 1 ends on Monday, February 12th at 12:00 A.M. CST or when all Parties have posted IC.

On Thursday, June 11th 1993, the Boeing 737 registered 7T-SAR, operated by Samgola Air, was taking off from Tenkossé City to undertake, with a three-hour delay, scheduled flight SAH 5122 to Lagos and Algiers. Six crew members (two flight crew and four cabin crew) and 97 passengers were on board. The co-pilot was pilot flying. No technical exemptions or deferred maintenance items applied to the airplane; on departure from Tenkossé City it had been subject to routine maintenance for a minor technical problem, a hydraulic pump having been changed in the circuit B landing gear bay. About five seconds after the airplane left the ground, at the moment when gear retraction was requested, a sharp thumping noise was recorded on the CVR. The airplane’s heading veered to the left, followed by a track correction. The Captain announced that he was taking over the controls. A short time later, the co-pilot told the control tower “we have a small problem”. The airplane continued to climb and reached a recorded height of about 400 ft.


The speed dropped progressively from 180 mph during lift-off, to stall speed at the end of the recording. In fact, about ten seconds before the crash, the noise of the stick shaker is heard on the CVR (which usually indicates that the airplane is 7% from its stall speed). The aural warning, which normally indicates a radar altitude below 200 ft, appeared about six seconds before the end of the recording. The airplane, with landing gear extended, struck the ground on its right side. A severe fire broke out immediately. The airplane slid along, losing various parts, struck and knocked over the airport perimeter fence then crossed a road before coming to a halt in flames. An alert was immediately sounded by the control tower. All but one of the 97 passengers and all of the six crew members perished, a total of 102 people.

This was the fourth major air crash featuring a Samgola Air aircraft and in a press conference on June 12th, Boeing representative Malcolm Inger said: "Following analysis from staff at our home office and on site at Kamidye International Airport, we have concluded that the recent aviation incident of Flight 5122 was not the fault of the aircraft but it is hypothesized that pilot error caused the crash. We are requesting that Samgola Air immediately ground all flights until further notice."


Investigators checked the fuel load, weight and balance of the aircraft before flight, with no anomalies. Ground witnesses stated that just after taking off, a strange noise was heard which resembled explosion. A ground engineer gave the following statement:

"I was on the parking lot and I saw the plane take off on runway 02. Just after take-off, the aircraft swerved slightly to the left, then righted itself on the track and at that moment I noticed that the aircraft was losing speed and altitude, still with its landing gear down, until the moment of the crash, when there was a total explosion.” An investigation by the African Aviation Safety Administration (AASA) is slated to take place within the next three weeks and will be published in that time.

Samuel Bassong was just barely Samgolan. His father, Emmanuel—an educated man born to a wealthy family in Kamidye—had moved young Sam to the United States as a child, along with his wife and the boy's younger sister. The Bassongs lived a prosperous life as a well-off African-American family, their father's medical expertise earning them a slice of suburban bliss in the outskirts of Houston. Each of the Bassongs was a model of Americana, a perfectly assimilated and successful immigrant; Sam and his sister, Stella, were model students, and the pair's mother, Rose Bassong, even proudly strided the way as a working black woman once her children had graduated, taking on a high paying government job her husband's strings had helped her find. Stella, always a fashionable and athletic young woman, followed in her mother's footsteps as a trailblazer and became a prominent fashion model, once again leading the way for women of her background. For Sam, though, even greater heights were on the horizon. He became an alumni of TSU, a prestigious Texan university, and then chose to pursue a life in politics.

He was swiftly disappointed with his prospects. The American political scene was highly entrenched on partisan lines, and Samuel, though his family was wealthy, had no strong personal connections to anyone that was already on "the inside". After years of work as a municipal assistant, the most that the ambitious Mr. Bassong could do was make himself a city councillor: hardly a role that satisfied Samuel's grand intentions. In his efforts to achieve even such a meager position, however, Samuel did find himself some connections. His ward had an abundant immigrant community, among them several Samgolans like himself. Samuel Bassong's name became well known in the Samgolan émigré community, and he came to represent not only his own ward as councilor, but also Samgolan-Americans as a whole. This set the stage nicely for the beginning of the Samgolan Civil War, and Samuel's involvement in it as the symbolic leader of the émigrés.

When the shots of revolution were first fired in Samgola, Samuel knew about it even before Western media did. His connections in the émigré community had contacts in Kamidye and all throughout the rest of the country, and they personally witnessed and relayed to Bassong directly the chaos unfolding in the streets. Sam was quick to act, eagerly accepting interviews on CNN and FOX to share his second-hand accounts with the American public and become the international face of Samgola as the government fell to disarray. Resigning as a lowly city councilor, Samuel instead banded together with a number of other wealthy Samgolan emigrants to create a new political entity: the Democratic Alliance for Reform. Instead of pursuing a political career in America, Bassong instead envisioned himself as a future politician in his birth country. He began to lobby heavily for international intervention in the Samgolan Civil War, accruing for himself a significant following among Samgolan emigrants in the process, even those in other countries. Economic emigrants and exiled enemies of the Rubusana regime alike coalesced under the orange banner of the D.A.R., helping turn the hearts and minds of the West against both sides in the raging conflict.

As the civil war in Samgola became messier, the D.A.R. was approached by representatives of the CIA. The Bassong family, led by Samuel after Emmanuel's death, was seen by the American intelligence community as the ideal candidates for leadership in Kamidye after the war's end. Samuel's ambition quickly turned him in favour of the idea of collaboration with the CIA, but the rest of the D.A.R. was more hesitant. Ephraim Yombi, a recent and prominent émigré from after the war's beginning, worried that seeing to be too closely aligned with Washington would turn the Samgolan people against both the D.A.R. and their pro-Western ideology. He successfully counselled Bassong to refuse to participate in any violent or illicit activities, and so the D.A.R.'s connection to the American government remained limited to funding of party activities outside of Samgola. This would continue for some years, keeping the D.A.R. well provided for and acting as the primary mouthpiece of Samgola's emigrant community, up until near to the war's end.

Bassong returned home to Samgola in 1993, tagging along with the international task force sent in to pacify the country. He and the rest of the D.A.R.'s leadership, Ephraim Yombi among them, quickly gathered together to reorganize their organization as a formal Samgolan political party. Samuel Bassong was acclaimed as leader, and the party immediately set to work on his presidential bid. With many of their American-provided funds going towards simple tasks such as acquiring residences for the returning emigrants, the party's financial advantage quickly lessened; by campaign's start, their funds were estimated to be roughly equivalent to those of their rival parties. Still, the émigrés were energized, those among them with long histories in adulthood overjoyed to be back in their homeland, and those—like Bassong—who had left in their childhood, eager to attain new power in the old country. The stage was set, thanks to Western intervention, for a new future for the Samgolan Republic; 'President Bassong' sure had a nice ring to it.

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Ephraim looked out the window into the modest skyline of Kamidye. The apartment complex the D.A.R. had established themselves in was one of the tallest buildings in town, yet still felt small compared to the great skyscrapers of the country so many of its inhabitants had just left behind. In his childhood, this city had always been the most amazing sight in the world to Ephraim, the shining capital on the horizon, proudly demonstrating the majesty of Samgola. After living a few years in Houston, it suddenly seemed much less impressive. The tallest towers here would be meager office buildings back across the Atlantic, and what had once seemed a monument to Samgola's greatness, now looked more like evidence of its mediocrity.

"To be fair," Samuel said, walking up from behind Ephraim and joining him in gazing out the window, "the war probably didn't help."

Ephraim grunted, his eyes drifting past the skyline and onto the horizon. Somewhere in that direction was his hometown, the Djidani village he hadn't been to in nearly four years. He had been lucky enough for his immediate family, his wife and children, to escape with him. He still hadn't heard from any of the rest of them. They'd probably fled out west, to his uncle's town in Bourem, back in Soussiam province, where most of Ephraim's tribe had always lived. The militias here in the south hadn't treated Muslim families well; the impetus for Ephraim's flight in the first place. The militias out along the western border, in contrast were mostly Islamists. Another foe for Ephraim to fight, now, but at least they'd kept his family safe while he was out of country. The Yombi were devout, and for all Ephraim knew, some of his cousins might well have joined them. He hoped they yet drew breath.

"They're fine. They'll get back in touch, my friend, you needn't worry." Sam had always been confident, even when he had no reason to be. "Now, let's get back to work, shall we?".

"Sure, sure. Can't keep the country waiting." Ephraim tried to joke, moving back to the table towards the room's center. Four other former émigrés were gathered around it, most of the rest of the newly legalized Democratic Alliance for Reform's leadership. They were using this apartment as their makeshift war room, with a map of the country laid out on the table, and the walls decorated with orange, attention-grabbing campaign posters. It was more convenient to meet here, where each of the new arrivals had decided to settle together, instead of in some office on the other side of town. Besides, it was near to the airport and the Assembly, in the area of the city the peacekeepers were keeping under closest watch. Safe, convenient, and a great view (if not for there being nothing much to look at). It met all the criteria.

The shortest of the six men in the room spoke up. He sounded like it was his first time ever seeing Samgola, because it more or less was. He could be spotted for a foreigner in a snap, having left Samgola even before Samuel had. His parents were the smartest of the lot of them there in the room, he figured. "We should be putting all of our money and sweat right here, into Kamidye. We've got to try and get our name out in the capital as much we can. Makes no sense to branch out until we've got a solid base to start from."

Three of the others, Yombi's men, the newer emigrants, loudly disagreed. They all insisted that the rest of the country hated the capital. Every vote they'd win from folks here would be two lost in the rest of the country. Each one said they should sent Samuel to their own hometown. Ephraim, for his part, was at odds with both camps. He didn't see any sense in campaigning blind, and neither had Samuel when he'd talked to him privately the previous night. The rest of these men were nobodies; Yombi was far and away Bassong's second in command.

The leader of the D.A.R. spoke up, quickly quieting the rest of the bickering men as he did. They wouldn't have followed him back to the home country if they didn't trust him absolutely. For the émigrés, Samuel was the only one of the lot of them really worth listening to, and they did so attentively. "We're idiots to campaign blind," he started, putting more of a cut into the advice Ephraim had given him earlier, "the smart thing to do is to start polling, get a lay of the land. Most of our funds were depleted in establishing ourselves here, but we need to leverage everything we have left." Bassong found an empty place next to the table and grabbed an orange marker, encircling six states, spreading all across Samgola. He then turned to his second-in-command, engaging him confidently. "Ephraim: get in contact with our American friends. Have them assist in the logistics for this—it's going to be quite the undertaking. I want this information as soon as possible. We need to know what we're up against here."

Yombi grabbed the map, and smiled as he looked over the highlighted states. Bourem was one of them. He understood the gesture well: Bassong was granting him permission to accompany the party's pollsters to his family's likely new residence. He gave an appreciative nod, and hurried out the door. Samuel was certainly right about one thing: this was going to be a hell of a process.

---

Zan Mahol, a former colonel under President Rubusana blew out the smoke from his cigar. A smile formed on his face as he looked out at the capital in front of him with all the opportunities that were laid in front of him. While the country maybe fractured it had not yet broke and he believed that he was but one of many who held it together. For he had served in the civil war, he was there on the front line as well in the command rooms of the Samgolan army, he knew what difficulties the country faced and as such thought himself the best candidate to lead. It is why he turned in his uniformed which he had wore for 15 years for a clean and crisp suit. A door behind him opened up and Zan turned, it was Ralin Torph another former military officer that served under Zan, but next to him stood Lukas Halt. He was an american political campaign manager who was hired to help the Samgolan Dawn’s political campaign.

“Mr.Mahol, we’ve drawn up some plans for the future if we’re to go around the country to rally support we figured we should start polling in the west specifically these areas.” Lukas said as he pointed to the map. “I’ve also scheduled a campaign speech before we head off to discuss what should be done about the leaders of the people’s front. Speaking of which- he checked his watch - we should be heading to right now.” Zan nodded and followed Lukas to their scheduled spot.

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“And so I say to you, my fellow brothers and sisters. That these traitorous leaders of the people’s front be executed, the caused great harm to our country’s infrastructure and made us turn against one another. They must answer for these crimes not just to us and the law but to God as well.” He shook his fist up and the people began cheering.

He waved and smiled as he began stepping of the stage and returned to his car which was on the way to the airport. “Sir I know we were planning to go to Onige next, but the news reported that Samgola Air caused another death due to no government intervention I suggest we head to Tenkossé where the tragedy happened to talk about governmental oversight and where the power must be held.” Zan nodded “I agree, these large corporations can’t run this country again, nor can they hold considerable influence within the government like they do in your country Mr. Halt.” The Plane was notified beforehand and Zan would be traveling to Tenkossé

The light shined brightly on the face of Yembe Songè, an elderly gentlemen in his early 50s. Tired and overworked from a long night of preparation and planning alongside several younger, far more eager gentlemen. It had felt as though time itself had stood still, a brief escape from the stress of presidential planning, only to be quickly taken away from the sound of another entering the room. He turned to see an all to familiar face, a man by the name of Dominic Malembe.

“Mr. Songè, preparations have been made for a fundraising event scheduled this afternoon. The party suggests that it is there that you should announce your candidacy for the presidency, it’ll likely draw attention from our support base.” Dominic callously announced. “Your ride will pick you up at three in the afternoon, a suit sent to you an hour before that. It’s suggested that you rest in the meantime.”

Yembe, suppressing his frustration, replied “Was it not in the interest of the party to inform me sooner? The fundraiser was supposed to happen later this week.” Though he received no response from Dominic. “Damned the party, I wasn’t expecting to be worked to death when I took up this position. I’ve survived two wars only to die exhausted and overburdened by my own party.” Though that was a slight exaggeration. Yembe never actively fought in either war, the first was the war for independence against France in 1962. Having only served as an active protester during their occupation, having nearly been killed during the Saturday Massacre in Kamidye. The second war, being the civil war. To which he, alongside several other Liberal Democrats, had been imprisoned by the Samgolan People’s Front. Later freed three years later during the liberation of Boagoa. “Is that all Dominic?”

“Indeed Mr. Songè. Get some rest, today is only the first of many exhausting days.” Dominic then quietly made his leave.

---

Several hours had passed, and after a long nap Yembe had felt reinvigorated. Despite the suddenness of his announcement for presidency, the party was quick to deliver him a small announcement speech. Simple and to the point, paying only lip service to the ideals that the party has long held to be favorable in order to approach policy cautiously and tactically.

Once he had arrived to the gathering he was joined by several other trusted members of the Liberal Democrats, Jordan Kenge, Nji Bassong, and Michel Eyango. “Yembe ol’ friend. A pleasure to see that you’ve arrived on time. I hope the sudden notice didn’t leave you to nervous?”

“Not at all Michel, it seems as though our speechwriters were able to quickly write something up. It’s rather simple, but I’m sure the announcement will be enough for this week.” The group of men alongside Yembe then began to drink and dine. The fundraiser seemed to have attracted a small, yet wealthy gathering. Donations slowly pouring in from the Liberal Democrats wealthier supporters. After a short few moments, Jordan began to stand upon the stage setup.

“I’m so grateful that our campaign donors have decided to come out today and show their support for our party.” Energetic clapping and cheering could be heard throughout the tables. “It is here that we would like to announce the presidential candidacy of Yembe Songè.”

By the time that Yembe had arrived on stage himself, the cheering had only gotten louder, until eventually he was given a moment of silence to speak. “Indeed, I am happy to announce that for the first time I will be running for presidency. Our party has stood the test of time. Established after our independence, it harrowed a great many challenges. Each challenge however, has only furthered the will of this party, its’ fortitude, strength, and cunning. With each loss, came a victory. A victory for the greater good of Samgola. I’ll seek to defend these parties values with my life, for I’m not afraid to stare down death. The tragedy of war has long torn apart Samgola, today we will bring it back together once again.”

---

The election was off to a slow, albeit steady start. Retired Samgolan Army Colonel Zan Mahol spent his first few days in the capital, holding a rally to announce his position on the fate of those members of the People's Front whom were to be tried--and by Zan's admission--executed. The decision, which in a youthful, progressive capital, earned him the net support of several thousand potential voters, aides close to Mahol suggested it may have angered some in his own base.

The next day, the Samgolan World hit and nearly derailed the presidential campaign of Mahol all at once. A picture, dated nearly ten years ago, surfaced showing Mahol and a senior member of the Soviet Red Army saluting next to one another. The author, editorialized the idea that Mahol was a liaison who worked in close conjunction with the Soviets to purchase weapons and munitions during the Samgolan Civil War. Mahol has not yet commented on these allegations.



An early fundraiser in Kamidye by the Liberal Democrats under Yembe Songè took place at Kamidye University, where a handful of wealthy donors found themselves in the candidates presence with the promise of funding. Following a short but concise speech, funds were successfully collected and primed the Liberal Democrats for a long run the next several weeks. Polling efforts by both the Liberal Democrats and the Democratic Alliance for Reform had begun in earnest as well, much of it taking place in the densely populated Djidan Province.

The latter half of the week saw Zan Mahol fly to Tenkossé City following another destructive aviation accident. There, he gave an insightful speech honoring the dead and promising that future government regulation of air travel would be an important issue in a Mahol administration. The quick response from a tragedy so fresh in many Samgolan's minds was well received, not just in Tenkossé City but across the nation as a whole.

A poll on Friday at the end of the week by the Samgola Mission for Christ in the city of Kamidye concluded and revealed a whopping minority support for the Democratic Alliance for Reform. The poll resulted in the following for Christians in Kamidye:
- 34.40% in favor of the Democratic Alliance for Reform
- 19.44% in favor of Samgola Dawn
- 26.16% in favor of the Liberal Democrats.



The Samgola Mission for Christ was the largest Christian organization in the state, encompassing nearly 2,500,000 registered members with stations in Djidan, Ziwa and Kamidye. Founded in 1886 by Francophile missionaries, they had become a privately owned religious institution in 1936 and continued to support those who promised protection of Christian values in the country.

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National Polling - (Week 2, 1993)
- Samgola Dawn: 29.22%
- Liberal Democrats: 21.79%
- Democratic Alliance for Reform: 15.04%

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* Week 2 will end when all players have posted or at 11:00 A.M. CST on Wednesday, February 14th.

Patriotic anthems permeated the conference room at a low volume, filling the empty space left by any lulls in conversation between the milieu of assembled émigrés. There were more than a few locals among them, perhaps as much as half of those assembled having never lived outside Samgola, but it would be hard for them to be unaware that they were in the company of a party elite of emigrants. The lingua franca of those assembled was assertively English, that tongue the leader was most experienced with and preferred to speak behind closed doors. Although, a fundraiser was not technically 'behind closed doors'—the guards at the entrance would be happy to open the doors for anyone that graciously donated to the Democratic Alliance for Reform's efforts to save Samgola. The guards themselves, after all, were not Samgolan. Kamidye was still firmly in the hands of the Task Force Europa, and the international peacekeepers (whom Samuel Bassong had entered into Samgola on the heels of) did not seem at all hesitant to provide security to the D.A.R. Perhaps their commanders were eager to defend the electoral process in this newly democratized state, or maybe they had some personal affinity for the reform mandate of the émigrés. Or, perhaps, Bassong's American friends had ensured he didn't need to waste campaign funds on matters as banal as security.

Among those assembled, milling about in a sea of suits and dresses, was the man himself. Samuel Bassong hadn't yet left Kamidye since he'd arrived in country, seeking to establish himself and his party in the capital before he expanded his brand into the countryside and the more distant provinces. The polls, as far as they could be trusted, showed he wasn't in a bad place to start off. The Samgola Mission for Christ, a socially conservative group, had placed the D.A.R. in the lead in the city. It was a relatively small lead, not half as safe as Mr. Bassong would have liked, but a lead nonetheless. All the better, it was supported both by the Mission and the party's own polling; as tenuous as things seemed thus far, the Democratic Alliance was doing quite well for having just entered the scene. Samuel, and assumedly everyone who had come here to give him money, was sure he could succeed. It was just about making the right choices from here on out, ensuring the people heard what they wanted to hear and had the best image they could of Sam and his followers. Image was ultimate in politics, and Samuel Bassong was nothing if not attentive to his image. Perhaps even more than the urgently needed campaign money, image was what this night was all about.

One of the guests at the fundraiser had a special place in Samuel's heart. His sister, Stella Bassong, a fashion model who still lived in the United States, had flown in for the occasion—and to help facilitate a scheme for Samuel. Attending along with her was her close friend, Divina Kazadi, a relative of a designer that Stella had became acquainted with in the United States. Importantly, though, Divina was not an emigrant, having often left the country for business and pleasure, but having never resided elsewhere but Samgola. A relatively young, pretty and demure young woman, firmly native and established in country, but with some ties abroad, legitimizing any sense of foreignness around Samuel by proxy. She would make an excellent wife, and, she prayed, an even better First Lady.

The whole night, Samuel and Divina stayed close to each other. They seemed to genuinely enjoy each other's company, laughing together and warmly smiling at one another: and as long as that appearance kept up, the truth of their feelings was irrelevant. Stella, for her part, was sure to have the couple photographed liberally. Tonight, after all, would be the night they fell in love at first sight. There would need to be plenty of evidence of their affection tonight if their wedding in the next few weeks was to have the desired effect. The atmosphere, their clothing, the food and beverages they shared and the clearly apparent amorousness they held towards each other was all choreographed, though with enough subtlety to be plausible, even for those party loyalists in attendance that saw more than just the pictures taken. The coup de gras was one last photograph: Samuel Bassong, beaming in his tailored suit, cherry red lipstick stained on his cheek from Divina's kiss. "It was love at first sight!" they'd insist. Very romantic, and very good for PR.

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Some days had passed since the fundraiser. The stage bad been set for Samuel's marriage gambit, but equally important was the money they'd raised from their supporters and patrons. It could have been more, but it was also plenty to suit the party's needs, for now. Their efforts would bear more fruit in the future, Samuel was sure, once the D.A.P. was riding higher in the polls. What they had managed be earn would be set to the task of making that happen. A fraction of their funds were to be spent on a speech, in a public square in downtown Kamidye. A private ballroom was just fine for eliciting cheques from the converted, but preaching was best done to the masses—nothing gathered crowds like a wave of flags and orange party banners, and campaign posters hung down the sides of buildings. Just like the venue, Sam was, of course, well prepared. Assisting him in his talk this time around was Ephraim Yombi, a more recent emigrant from Samgola, and the party's second in command. Having spent more time in Kamidye, and coming from a poorer background than hopeful future president Bassong, Ephraim was more personally in tune with the desires of the people. His presence, setting the tone for Samuel's speech, would also help to diminish any arguments that the D.A.R. only served the interests of the émigrés. Though technically an exile himself, Ephraim had spent much longer inside the country than out, and still had a thick Samgolan accent, among other things.

"Countrymen of Samgola!" he began, holding up his fist triumphantly as he spoke his locally accented Samgolan into the microphone atop the scaffolding raised for the occasion. The orange and green banner of the D.A.R. flew behind him, his form cutting a silhouette against the green rays of the banner's end. Ephraim was a diminutive man, shorter and skinnier than Samuel, but the raised platform hid that well enough, and the cheering crowd below could hardly make out anything specifics of his appearance anyway. That was all well and good: it was Bassong's face with which they needed to be acquainted.

"Citizens of this great city of Kamidye. We, the Democratic Alliance for Reform, come to you today to talk of the problem most near to your hearts. It is an issue that every leader who has ever yet stood before you has FAILED to challenge! And it is the one problem that most holds back this great country, the one God above's favourite country, from achieving the heights it deserves; the heights that YOU deserve, as Samgolans. And here in Kamidye to talk to you about this problem today, is your future President. Samuel Bassong!" Ephraim made a point of raising his first again as he called Samuel's name, and the most zealous of the D.A.R.'s supporters in the crowd joined with him. The atmosphere was intentionally triumphant and populist: the party was not here to be quiet.

As Ephraim moved from the front of the podium, Samuel Bassong took centre stage, already looking as though he was president. Everything about his appearance and demeanor was suave and immaculate, his perfectly tailored suit and designer haircut casting a contrast with the more raggedy, everyday look of Ephraim. Mr. Yombi was who the people were meant to see themselves in: Mr. Bassong was who the people were meant to see their future selves in.

Not waiting for the applause to end, Samuel began his speech. "Citizens of the Samgolan Republic," he started, his tone formal and presidential, "there is no need for me to tell you of the many problems our proud country faces. We have been left in disarray by the regimes of the past, their failures weakening us at every turn, and the brutes and ideologues who call themselves their leaders seeking only to make themselves despots over you—ignoring your needs and your dreams. Ours is a country run into the ground by dictators, stomped beneath the feet of the National Regime and the People's Front, those villains who turned brother against brother for so many years. Yet it is not the state of Samgola today that bothers me, friends. When I look out upon the sea of people before me, upon my countrymen, I do not feel any disappointment. I feel pride! Pride, in the resilience of the Samgolan nation. Pride, in the shackles we have thrown off of our wrists, of the dictators departed. And pride, most of all, in the courage that we have shown in the face of adversity. Yes, my friends, in looking upon all of you, the people, I feel only pride. My disappointment—my sadness and anger and despair—is felt when I look upon the state of the country!".

"Our leaders have made us a nation neglected. Time and time again, they have ignored the ills that most harm the people of Samgola, and most impede our country's economic and social progress. Instead, in their unholy hunger, they have poured every coin they could find into their own pockets. While the mansions of the regime were refurbished," Samuel pointed to the crowd, not missing a beat, "YOUR own homes fell apart. While the luxury cars of the dictator's collection were polished, the roads on which they sped down cracked and fell apart. That problem, Kamidye, most near and dear to you, that my friend and ally Ephraim..." Bassong waited a few seconds for applause to settle after mentioning his lieutenant "...that my friend and ally Ephraim spoke to you about, is the state of our fine capital. Of the urban environments that our people dwell in. Our nation's economy has languished because we have not invested in our cities, in the housing and transportation and basic needs of our own citizens. How can the people of the streets, all of you, be expected to move forward if those same streets on which you trod are crumbling? If cities all across our country are neglected and falling apart? That is the most important issue constraining the economic well-being of Samgola today, friends: our urban centres have been paid no mind by the failed governments of the past, and are suffering for it. A cracked church bell does not chime true, Samgola, nor is the call heard from a mute muezzin. I say to you all that until the physical building blocks of a greater Samgola are put in place, we will not see it."

Pausing to take a drink of water, Samuel went on, as Ephraim approached the podium to stand beside him. "That is why the Democratic Alliance for Reform is committing itself today to renovate the urban environments of Samgola, and fix our country's broken infrastructure." Handing the microphone to his second in command, Samuel spoke one last time. "Ephraim, tell the people of some of our proposed projects that our country most needs."

"Of course, Samuel," Ephraim started, taking the event away with a list of urbanization and industrialization projects the D.A.R. had planned to pass in the National Assembly. Samuel quickly departed, not wanting to make himself a fool calling for a bridge he'd never heard of to be fixed, or a street he'd never rode down to be repaved. Ephraim was better with the specifics: Samuel preferred to stick to the bigger picture. With any luck, leaning on Yombi could ward off allegations of Samuel's disconnection from the country he sought to rule over. His comradery with his Muslim deputy would also ideally keep the city and country's mixed religious communities appeased. For as well as it was to lead the Christian vote, Muslims could vote too. The D.A.R. would need to be strategic to come close to the victory Samuel desired: if that meant sharing a stage, he was happy to do so.

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“Please put your hands together for I now present to you, Zan Mahol. The leader of Samgolan Dawn.” Zoya Kali said as he stepped down from the podium returning to his seat. He was currently running for the a Tenkossé seat under The Samgolan Dawn, Zan knew of him most because he had served with his Father before his death. While they never met his father was a trusted comrade and Zan brought his son into politics because of his youth that was desperately needed in the Dawn.

“People of Tenkossé City, I would once again like to grieve for you and those lost in the tragedy of Flight 5122. I would also like to thank Mr.Kali for hosting this fundraising event for us and am here to fully endorse him as your representative. However, when we last spoke, I spoke of what I would do as your President. But now, I am here to tell you what I have heard from my opponents. Aside from the fact, they say nothing publically of the tragedy here. But behind closed door specifically those of the Liberial- Democrat, I hear whispers. Do you know what they say?” He pauses a moment to add to the suspense

“I will tell you, they would keep all regulations as they currently are. As well as leave those who caused this issue, in control of Samgola air. When clearly we must purge the swamp that has hurt us time and time again.” He took a moment to clam himself and shake his head

“To even think, that the Liberal-Democrats would want to keep the fools who run Samgolan Air in control, like they could improve, after what we’ve witnessed time and time again, is astonishing.” Zan said to the crowd of people before him “While Our country was at crisis no less then a few months ago, I can assure you, this is the first crisis of our new government and I promise you, we will not let that stand. Now I am very sorry but I must get going, I thank you all for the donations and remember a vote for the Samgolan Dawn is a vote for a brighter future.” The applause roared from the audience as Zan stepped down. He and his colleges now joined by Zoya Kali walked around shaking hands and hearing the individual issues of the people and getting to know them.

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Several hours later Zan,Zoya,Ralin and Lukas all made it back to the hotel where Zan and his staff had set up. Zan went to his desk and sat down pouring himself and his men some whiskey “So, Mr.Halt what’s next on the agenda?” Handing the drink over. “Well, I think we return to the west and begin our speeches and don’t forget to talk about the main issues the militias, military and the former leaders. I also think we will need to deal with the soviet picture.” He said tossing the newspaper down in front of Zan “Oh this old picture, that was Major Vladimer Zvetov. He was a liasan, I worked with him to stop funding the people’s front as well as providing support. Which I did expertly” Zen said as he brought the drink to his mouth taking a refreshing sip. “I think we deny any allegations brought up and that is professionally done for the greater good of the state, which it sounds like. But that’s if you’re telling me the truth.” Zan nodded “Alright then, next week we fly out and begin the real campaign hopefully the funding will be all well. For now we should get some rest” Zan sent them all away and stood up looking out to the street from his window.

It had only been a week into the presidential campaign, yet to Yembe it had felt as though it had gone on for years. Polling information, strategy, and speeches every waking moment. For it to be over would be a sigh of relief to the tired old man. To show this exhaustion however would be a death sentence. The Liberal Democrats needed a trusted member to run, and so here he is. Today would be the first major speech in the presidential run, after a successful fundraiser.

“Fellow citizens of Samgola, these past ten years our republic has been in shambles. Torn apart by the corruption and greed of both incompetent and radical partisans. Whether we are to suffer under the presidency of puppet leaders, the anguish of foreign governance, or communist extremism, the roots are all the same. Lead by corrupt and evil men. Men who don’t care about their fellow man, but only self gain and preservation. These men are not fit to lead Samgola!

If our mighty republic is to stand the test of time, united and free it must remove the corruption from the ground up. We must ensure that we are no longer subject to foreign overlords, we must ensure that we are no longer subject to the whims of corrupt administrations, we must ensure that we are no longer subject to the terror of extremists. Freedom will prevail.

It is here that I will promise, upon my election, that I will destroy this corruption. The plague of our political administration. The root of our sorrows. The death of our democracy. We will be a free Samgola. A pure Samgola. A Samgola for Samgolans!”

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The sweltering heat of a Samgolan Summer was not lost on the presidential candidates. Voter turnout was exceedingly low, even in the rural districts where Zan Mahol's Samgolan Dawn was polling high. At the beginning of the week, the Presidential Commission announced the date of the first debates--mid July, with every political party being eligible to send a single delegate, the proclaimed presidential nominee, to the debate. The First Presidential Debate would be about three of the most important issues in the nation, and a delegate that showed up unprepared was unlikely to walk away with a significant boost in the polls.

While only Zan Mahol of the Samgolan Dawn had yet journeyed far from Kamidye, breaking news hit all major stations that the Islamic Army national militia had struck in Kolodam State, Ziwa. 750 well armed militants in armed trucks--referred to by the Samgolan Army as technicals--raided and attacked several rural villages along the border. Reports indicated that nearly 350 men, women and children--mostly Christian--had been injured and killed, and those affected in Kolodan and surrounding territories wanted promises of a resolution coming to bear. The cross religious tensions were so high that the Presidential Commission required additional security to visit any Border State in Ziwa and Soussiam, if any presidential candidate desired to travel there.


The National Census has finished and revealed that even in the wake of a four year long war, Samgolan population has grown, though less than double digits. With a population of 52,953,521, Samgola was slowly on the path to recovering from a heinous war. Unemployment however is tremendously high with nearly one in five Samgolans out of work. The result of such unemployment was the explosion of corruption, especially in the rural territories where Department of Provincial Police allegedly held sway. The semi-lawless Border States had adopted bartering, prostitution and bribery as acceptable economic measures in the absence of the DPP and the presence of the National Militias.

Samgolan World Polls the Capitol

The Samgolan World, eager to keep their readers up to date--released an early poll for the city of Kamidye. With nearly 11% of the population, the Samgolan World asked on Page 2: "How Kamidye Goes, So Goes Samgola?" with an editorial emphasizing how tight the race was. Kamidye was a diverse city in demographics and it appeared that the poll was only released under the pretense of sensationalism. With 24 seats at risk however, Kamidye was arguably a city worth spending some effort in. Polling was slated at "nearly 60% accurate" and thus most political parties might swear off potentially inaccurate poll results.

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The war room of the D.A.R. was mobilized, a convoy of orange painted vans bringing party officials from Kamidye out along Samgola's country roads and into the wider nation. The security situation in the Samgolan Republic was deteriorating, but the unrest seemed to be limited in the far northwest for now; Djidan and Nambé were still safe enough for campaigning without a costly guard routine. The convoy was hardly a stealthy target: besides being bright orange, each of the vans was also decorated with motifs of various exciting and eye-catching African animals. Lions, elephants and baboons alike decorated the convoy, and a Samgolan flag flew overtop each of the vehicles, proudly claiming the decorated beasts of the wild as treasures of Samgola. It was a very good thing indeed that they were safe in the southeast, lest some 'poachers' come and skin their cars.

Mr. Bassong's contacts in America had alerted him of a great opportunity shortly before he'd parted for Kamidye along with the international mission that paved the way for the émigrés return to the country. The need to establish the party's foothold in the capital took greater concern initially, but that task was increasingly appearing to be a fait accompli, and the party couldn't afford tunnel vision; they were other opportunities to take advantage of. Environmentalist groups in the West had been petitioning the Rubusana regime for years to establish a wildlife sanctuary in Samgola's extremely biodiverse and highly ecologically threatened southeast. President Rubusana, suspicious of Western powers and their influence in his country, had always refused the international environmental community's proposals, and the war had been an end to the talks seemingly for good. With open conflicted ended, though, the prospective new President Bassong would be a very different man than his predecessor. America's greens had no shortage of funds to sprinkle around Africa, and if the D.A.R. had its way, as much of those sprinkles as possible would land in the Samgolan Republic.

Samuel's task was simple: accompanied by representatives of the Samgola Wildlife Society, he had to sell the idea to the locals of a wildlife refuge in nearby Laja. His advisors, though—Ephraim's people—had warned their party's presidential candidate of the difficulties he might face in his pursuit of the project. Many ranchers in the region used poaching simply to defend their livelihoods, his lieutenants promised him, and areas under environmental protection couldn't be mined or developed by the resource conglomerates of the SSI. Taking any side on the issue would have negative consequences, and, like with Samgola's religious divide, they insisted that the better outcome was to ignore the issue. Samuel trusted and respected the advice of his party's members, and their insight into the locals of a country he was still feeling new to, but he saw a path to power that he knew was too lucrative not to take. The SSI and the odd poacher be damned, Samgola's flag would stay two colours: orange and green. The environmentalists would get their way, and the D.A.R. would throw its full weight behind the Samgola Wildlife Society and their 'Laja Ecological Sanctuary' project. After all, what sort of economical activity would Samgola prefer to be known for: safaris or blood diamonds?

Still, the membership was right about one thing. The party couldn't lose focus on the urban centres, and on the ambitious infrastructure plan they were running on in the big cities. What little funds the campaign had would have to be spread thin, yet again. Samuel signed off on an advertisement campaign in Kamidye, utilizing almost all of the campaign money not already earmarked for the D.A.R.'s mock safari to push the issue of industrialization and urban decay hard in the nation's capital. Taking such a split approach wasn't without risk. Allowing themselves to get so low on funds was a gamble, that could leave them unable to quickly react to any events that might transpire elsewhere in the republic. The leader, though, knew best, and so both plans went ahead. The Democratic Alliance for Reform, and their competitors too, would simply have to be willing to take risks if they wanted to win this election. And after all: what's the worst that could happen in one week?

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As the plane landed in Bourem, it took nearly 2 hours before Zan and his staff could step off the plane due to the recent militia incursions. The police forces had to arrive and secure the area. The flight and travel arrangements had cost extra from the campaign, to make sure the hotel was secured and guarded as well as all the travel arrangements into the region. However after a day was used to settle in Zan called for a press conference to discuss the state of the Militias.

“I come before you, people of Bourem because this and the surrounding states are where this country has felt the greatest effects of the civil war. Not only from my first hand experiences but also of the militias that affected this area last week. That isn’t to say however, the militias while some of the more radical ones have gotten out of control. The majority of them and their base remains on of true loyalty and patriotism to the country and Allah. That must be commended just as you would commend those who serve your countries military. Even those who attacked their fellow samgolans served in the war and are just misunderstood and I would be more then willing to speak to them about resolving any current issues. As it must clearly be a cry for help.” Zan had continued to speak about his support for the national militias and offered promises that should he be elected the national militias would be handled.

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Zan and his staff then returned to their hotel and began preparations for the upcoming debate with his competitors, specifically looking at their weakness. The primary being one is new and western, the other is old and corrupt. The Dawn is the best alternative third way party that shall bring about a new sunrise to Samgola.

The war was over and all the other political parties had begun their attempts to unite the people and become the new leading power in the country. However, not all the parties had been active once the civil war had come to a close, the Samgolan Patriotic Party, a largely liberal nationalist party which promoted Samgola becoming a competitive power in the world market and thoughts of democracy and the inalienable rights that all Samgolans had, had not immediately been present in the political game. Instead they had chosen to await for all their members to gather in Kamidye in order to elect a representative to the party, being delayed in trying contact old important members who had gone into hiding from the militias that had formed.

Yet, the party election had taken place, and a Samgolan-raised, Christian had been elected as the voice of the party and as the running candidate of their new democratic system. His name was Xirsi F. Sahra, a fifty-three year old veteran from the civil war, constantly had been seen in political activity even before the civil war, but had been much less eager in his work than he is now.



However, the party’s following was small and as some would say radical, Xirsi would instead say, “overly optimistic to get started in making a proper Samgola.” After an interview into the the party’s delay in arriving on the political scene, Xirsi answered, “We had many delays, our brothers had to come from every corner of the country, some couldn’t come out of fear of being targeted by the Islamic militias that walk our countryside. So, when the deadline for members to arrive, we held our election and I won. That is all there is to it.”

Later, it was found that Xirsi had travelled to Modiali with his crew, wanting to establish themselves with the states of the nearby capital where they believed it was more likely for their party to gain support. It was announced later after his arrival that he would be holding a speech rally.

Upon his arrival to the stage, his more radical of supported clapped and hollered there praises even before the speech began, no doubt probably driving away some of the more casual viewers of the politics there. “My brothers and sisters, I am here to talk about massacre that has occurred in Kolodam, by the militias that were supposed to protect their fellow Samgolans. This is an affront to the very foundations of what we as a people should stand for. Islamic, Christian, what does it matter? When people like those who attacked Kolodam are let loose, it does nothing but further divide us as a people. “

“They wish to radicalize those who support them and kill all those who should oppose them, and the Samgolan Dawn defends these, quote, misunderstood people, end quote. What is it that is defensible about those who have committed this heinous act? These militias are showing that they believe themselves above the law, destroying the very foundation of our currently delicate system. Should they continue to be this way then every radical like them will continue to slaughter fellow Samgolan’s.”

“Brothers, sisters, we must band together in this time of conflict within our great nation. We must show that we are Samgolan, even if religion divides us, I promise that I will lower the amount of these militias in the nation to prevent another senseless slaughter like this one. Do not support those who would defend the cause of this, the Samgolan Dawn, we must become one people should our new system of government survive and the Dawn wishes to take away religious freedoms. The militia attack is not a cry for help, but an attack against our great nation!”

To the average Samgolan it would seem that the Liberal Democrats had been running a successful campaign, albeit slow and careful, however Yembe’s recent speech on corruption had ignited a long dormant fire within the party. Endorsements and long time supporters calling into question the legitimacy of the party, politicians making backroom deals, long time friends distancing themselves from the target that Yembe had placed onto his back. Indeed, Yembe had begun an internal power struggle. A silent, but active war against their own members.

This was the risk that the Liberal Democrats had made with the selection of Mr. Songè as a presidential candidate, he had been a relatively honest individual despite his egregious connections to the Liberal Democrats. Ignorant of the powerbase that he drew his influence from. For now, the agenda was clear for Yembe. Remove the vile corruption that eats away at Samgola.

His visit in Olouye would be brief, but he would begin his speech precise and clear, “It would seem as though the root of the corruption that plagues out countries has turned its ugly head once again. We see the longstanding consequences of these vile acts in the recent raping and pillaging that has occured once again by the so called “Islamic Army”. Run by incompetent generals and radicalized fools who continue to fight a war that has long ended. Why? Power. They desire control over our lands. To carve out pieces of the country. They are nothing but warmonger's and criminals. Better executed for their crimes then returned to society.

Trust me my fellow Samgolans, we must root out these figures from society. They are but another symptom of the long standing plague of our democracy. Let them be another example of the incompetence and ineptitude of a democracy that doesn’t serve the people! United we will remain strong. Samgola for Samgolans!”

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The fourth week of a twelve week campaign cycle was relatively quiet. Another Capitol Poll was unveiled to all candidates in the newspaper, with the first glimpse of the national attitude of the Samgolan Patriotic Party. With 24 National Assembly seats at stake, Kamidye was a hot bed of activity. While politicians laid it on thick regarding the Islamic Army's attacks on the outlying Border States, little else of note came during this particular week, with politicians traveling, making speeches and preparing for the first National Debate in the following week, which was slated to take place in Kamidye.



The largest swing of the week in the polls was, an average increase of 4.05% in the Islamic vote across the nation, when Samgolan Dawn candidate Zan Mahol announced his support for the National Militias and promised, in however vague terms, to handle the issue with a very concise efficiency. The first major campaign promise to be made, it was understood that the Muslims throwing their vote to the Samgolan Dawn did so with the express belief that if elected, he would follow through on those campaign promises.

Following a brief but extensive campaign on the protecting Samgola's vast natural resources, the Samgolan Wildlife Society announced it's decision to fully endorse the Democratic Alliance for Reform.

After his speech in Modiali, Xirsi travelled back to Kamidye in preparation for the debate that was scheduled to happen between and the man was determined to raise the rather low support the party had overall. Upon his arrival in Kamidye he had time to release a speech upon a topic that the party had found important, the industrialization of the nation. He had it all planned out, in fact it had been planned for a few weeks, but he wasn’t confident in whether to present it or not. Though, his some of his closest people say that it may very well bring some much needed support before the debate were to happen.

As he walked onto the small platform to deliver the speech, once more did his most radical of people cheered before a word was said. Xirsi continued to be confused on why they didn’t save their applause for afterwards, but it was flattering.

“Hello people of Kamidye, I am here today to discuss the opportunity we have, as a nation, to industrialize and urbanize. I am in full support of this urbanization as it will help become a competitive force with the world market, it will allow an increase in employment, and overall increase our GDP. With that said, I promise that by allowing this industrialization, I will lower our nation’s unemployment crisis. I will not rest until I can say that we as a nation, have the lowest unemployment rate in comparison to other nations.”

“In this world, industrialized nations are among the most successful. Examples of this are the United States, China, Germany. They are testaments to what industrialization can bring to an economy, it brings about a higher employment and better economy, more money for even the poorest of people. No matter what, industrialization is the way to the future the way to a Samgolan future! Praise Samgola and have a good night, my brothers and sisters.”

With that speech, promising to lower unemployment, Xirsi retired to the building he was staying in to prepare for the debate, primarily planning for any questions that may present themselves even the most ridiculous or the most loaded questions that could be fired from the machine gun that was the populous.

Knowing the debate would be held in the capital, Zan and his staff returned to the airport and flew back to the capital, which they hadn’t been for nearly a month. Their first order of business was to host a rally. It was organized by Abayomi Habib, one of the local S.D. parliamentary candidates and friend of Zan. The speech was to be used to gain some support in the capital for him and other S.D candidates. As it was the local hotspot for the D.A.R and L.D and the S.D. really needed a win in the area.

A brief excerpt from the speech - “Our country must become modernized, much like those of the west and eastern countries. But while the Liberal Democrats and the Democratic Alliance for Reform would wish us to mimic the ways of the west as it would help them and their interests, I believe we must make our own modernization efforts and become a beacon for africa. Samgola ever since the revolution has made its own way. So I say to you we must continue along our own path.” The speech went on to speak about the creation of industries and lowering unemployment by increasing nationalized companies and an ever expanding military.

After the speech Zan and his team specifically the U.S. campaign advisor worked on strategies for the debate and would be focusing heavily on the nature of corruption within the Liberial Democrats as well as targeting the D.A.R for their use of westernism and being led by one who isn’t even a true Samgolan nor even fought in the civil war.

Ephraim Yombi was conducting a press conference in Kamidye, ahead of next week's first presidential debate. The Democratic Alliance for Reform was set to face off against their main local competitors, the Liberal Democrats, as well as the rurally strong Samgola Dawn and the newly coalesced Samgola Patriotic Party. The debate had the chance to be a decisive moment in the campaign, and Yombi had been tasked with setting the stage for Samuel Bassong's return to the presidential capital; any lingering issues were to be settled by him, so Bassong could enter the debates without any baggage. The press conference was being held inside the new D.A.R. headquarters: an office building a few blocks down from the apartment complex that had been used as the party's temporary HQ immediately upon their arrival in country. As befitted a political centre, party banners and Samgolan flags were strewn about every wall and desk, leaving no room to imagine to which party this office belonged. The backdrop of the stage behind Ephraim was itself decorated with both the flag of Samgola and the civic flag of Kamidye, a clear attempt to further bolster the D.A.R.'s already dominant popularity in the national capital.

Questions were already underway. The first had been softballs—easy to answer, generic inquiries about the need for investment in infrastructure and the economy. This was to be expected, as most of the press gathered were of the friendly sort, both foreign and domestic reporters with a heavy pro-D.A.R. lean. Unfortunately for Ephraim, though, the conference wouldn't have been able to perform its goal of clearing the air ahead of the debates if at least a few less partisan outlets weren't invited. Easily the most biting question was saved for last by Ephraim, a reporter from a local outlet in the northwest of Samgola sitting patiently in the back of the room, waiting the entire conference to ask it.

The hot button issue of the past phase of campaigning had been the attacks in Kolodan, inflicted by an Islamist group among the National Militias. The knee-jerk reaction of the émigrés that dominated the D.A.R.'s membership had been to quickly and loudly denounce the attacks, but Yombi had successfully been able to caution silence thus far. He was more in tune with the spirit of the average Samgolan than most of Bassong's men, the less recent émigrés. Ephraim understood what Samuel did not—that the National Militias were extremely popular among many Samgolans, and no action of theirs could be fairly depicted when treated in isolation. The militias represented the Samgolan Republic's sectarian divides, and most of their infighting was the continuation of tribal rivalries that had existed under the Rubusana regime and even earlier. Any denouncement of the Islamic Army would be understood by many of Samgola's Muslims as a denouncement of Islam, and Samuel and Ephraim had agree to cautiously avoid being seen to favour one of Samgola's major religions over another.

Ephraim cut off the reporter just after he'd finished contextualizing his question, preempting an inquiry about what specific steps needed to be taken in response to the attacks. It helped to frame things more in Yombi's favour if the subject was more general.

"Right, right, of course..." he began, speaking into his microphone and drowning out the last part of the reporter's question. "That is an important issue, an extremely important one." Trying to diffuse any tensions that might have been riled by introduction of such a charged subject, Ephraim lightened the room with a joke. "I'm sure you're one of many journalists here in this room who would love to have me talk about such a controversial subject."

Letting a few chuckles across the room cease first, Ephraim then went on. "The National Militias are more rounded a topic of discussion than many of you might have heard or thought. Many of them are violent, and acts of aggression always need to be condemned, but any conflicts going on between the National Militias are part of a larger problem of disunity in Samgola. People don't trust each other. Many villages in the northwest, the homeland of my own family, they do not trust the sometimes corrupted and underpaid and overworked government officials that are meant to be helping them. The militias are local people that help local communities, and that I think is charity. We always need to support charity, just like we always need to condemn aggression. But instead of going up in arms and denouncing this or that attack, we instead need to denounce, and more importantly to solve, the underlying problems that cause these conflicts. People need to have their trust in the government restored after they lost faith in the old, failed regimes, and people need work and to have prosperity or they will continue to turn to anyone who will offer help to them. Samgola is a country that is broken and wounded in many places, and we need to heal those wounds instead of yelling at them for bleeding. That is what I stand for and that is what the Democratic Alliance for Reform stands for, truly fixing what's wrong with Samgola and not just addressing the results of those problems."

Satisfied he'd sufficiently subdued the issue, Ephraim went on, eager not to leave an awkward silence after his remarks. "Any other questions, friends?".

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It had been a week before the debate in the capital and Yembe had been preparing. Such a trip would be long, but worthwhile. To finally meet his opponents on the battlefield would be reinvigorating. Speeches and fundraisers are long and dull, exhausting to the point of no return. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be able to dedicate an entire week to this preparation. The Liberal Democrats, eager to secure the Christian voter base, had devised a speech in which he would voice support for both a strong military and traditional relationships.

“My fellow Samgolans, the wounds of the civil war still bleed red. Homes destroyed, brothers and sons lost, entire livelihoods ruined. A tragedy that must never be repeated. It was the weakness of our military and the corruption of our generals that lead to this disgraceful war. I will ensure such humiliation and destruction never happens again. We will restructure and strengthen our armed forces. Together, united as a nation, we will be strong.”

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With five weeks of campaigning under their belt, the First National Campaign was slated to begin in Kamidye, at the Makembe Convention Center in front of an audience of nearly 3,500 people. At 7:15 PM, the debate began, with candidates of the competing parties standing at their respective podiums. The host introduced each of the candidates and a rolling graphic at the bottom of the screen offered a live shot of their current polling numbers.

The debate began, and by tradition of the Presidential Election Committee, each candidate in turn, was posed a question by a member of the audience. First up was Samuel Bassong of the Democratic Alliance for Reform:

"You have promised sweeping reforms of urbanization and industrialization in Samgola, something that is sorely needed, as our existing infrastructure is underfunded, outdated and falling apart. What specific changes do you plan on implementing if you are elected as President?"
-- Yewande Omotayo, 24 year old male, poor urban Christian commuter socialist from Kamidye.

Next up was Zan Mahol of the Samgolan Dawn party:

"Weeks ago, photos of you and a Soviet military commander surfaced that many believed indicated you were working alongside Soviet sources during or before the War. Is it true that you met with Soviet military commanders?"
-- Alaba Matthir, 61 year old male, middle class rural Muslim motorist state employee (military) from Laria.

The third candidate was Yembe Songè.

"You have promised on multiple occasions to fight and oppose corruption in your campaign. What laws would you implement, change or remove to decrease corruption if you and your party won a majority in the National Assembly?"
- Mahmoud Farra, 19 year old Male, middle class urban Muslim commuter youth from Férosso.

The final question of the first round was addressed to Xirsi F. Sahra of the Samgolan Patriotic Party.

"You have denounced the National Militias as thugs and murderers. If you were elected, what would the fate of the National Militias be under a Sahra Presidency?"
- Malcolm Tahtsui, 38 year old male, poor, rural, Christian driver from Kolodam.