Rainy days and coffee

Many years ago…Brazarville, Le Congo. Afrique.

In the bazaar in pointe noire in the Congo, Africa, many years ago, there once lived chinaman who every coffee trader revered and feared – the man had an extraordinary talent of revealing by just crushing a few beans and bringing it to his nose…where it was grown..what year…by whom and most important what was the price.

For years he raptured the price of coffee…controlled in even, thought he was rumored to be a wanted man with a bounty on hi head. An infamous gun runner along the Gambezi and a illicit trader of blood diamonds and ivory.

The traders in the bazaar all revered him as he was the Shahidi – the man who wore a creme colored panama and suit with a shouldered holstered revolver and moved around in an ivory colored Mercedes with a white woman – they all referred to him as ‘ouya’ , the wise one…the mysterious one.

One day he just disappeared. Never to be seen again.