The IT Guy

The world is supposed to be a fair place where everyone does their part and gets their fair share. It is supposed to be a place where we live happily together and work together to achieve outstanding, amazing accomplishments—just like bees work together to create honey and termites work together to create ant-hills.

But unfortunately, the world of human beings is far from that. It is a heartless beast with treachery flowing through its veins. No one knew this better than John Kabwita.

John was IT personnel in one of the biggest Financial institutions in Zambia, FANCO. There, in the quietness of his little cubical, he witnessed the worst possible forms of corruption. He sat there, quietly, observing, letting it all sink in, unable to do anything. Even if he wanted to, he could not. He did not have any capacity. His employers made sure of that. They made sure that he was nothing or close to nothing. He was paid the equivalent of a janitor. That is how much they belittled his profession. He sat there, doing all the donkey work that made all his superiors heroes to the outside world. He was invisible. He wasn’t even villain. At least villains get a fair share of the spotlight. No, John was a cog in the machine—buried deep and handling most of the stress. Quietly wearing away. Quietly dying. A cog that would be tossed away when it gave up.

~

It was a day like any other in the life of John Kabwita as he made his way to work, fighting and dribbling his way through the early morning traffic. It was only 7 A.M but the traffic was heavy. He cautiously darted across the road, dodging cars and buses. He walked down the corridor, his hands clutching the inside of his trousers pockets. It was a little chilly and the cold nipped at his ears.

The lady who fried fritters was in her usual place, placing the fritters onto the hot cooking oil. He did what he always did—took a peak at the sizzling oil and wondered what would happened if he knocked it over.

As he passed by the newspaper stand, he took a glance at the headlines which seemed to be glaring at him.

100 FEARED DEAD IN BRUTAL RITUAL KILLINGS COUNTRY-WIDE

ZAMBIA DECLARED A HIGH RISK COUNTRY FOR TOURISTS

FANCO REPORTS A PROFIT OF 25 BILLION AMIDST A STRUGGLING ECONOMY

The last headline especially caught his attention. He paused for a moment, squinting at it. He felt his heart sink; or rather, fall.

So that is why the managers had given themselves such high bonuses and allowances. They had a valid reason for doing so. He only wished he did not know how they had made the money. But he knew. He had participated heavily in it.

FANCO had created an amazing new piece of software that facilitated mobile banking. People were able to carry out literally all sorts of transactions on their mobile phones. And for each transaction, FANCO got a small percentage of the transacted amount. Considering that millions of people were using the platform, FANCO made millions, heck billions, at the end of it all.

Yes, FANCO had created that application.

No, not really, John had, under the supervision of his superior, Elizabeth Macbeth Chinyoni. Elizabeth was the IT Manager. She was John’s immediate supervisor but she was so far high above him he could hardly stare her in the face.

He hated Elizabeth. She worked him to death. When creating the mobile application, she had made him work long hours for a month. She had made him create an app in one month which should normally take about three months to create. What he had done was essentially a miracle. But no one attributed it to him. Everyone attributed it to Elizabeth.

Macbeth had made an amazing new application that was making the companies billions of Kwacha. Macbeth was a hero. To this effect Macbeth was given a raise of over hundred percent. And Macbeth’s allowances were doubled.

But John got nothing. John was just an instrument, a means to an end. John was even lucky to have a job at the biggest Financial institution in Zambia when so many people out there were jobless and homeless. John should be grateful instead of being grumpy. Those were the unspoken insinuations he got whenever he attempted to complain.

Someone bumped into him, jarring him out of his thoughts, forcing him to move again. His phone rang and he struggled to pull it out of his trousers pocket. He did need to replace his trousers. He had had it for too long and it was beginning to wear.

“Hello uncle,” he said in an apologetic tone.

“John, I just called to remind you about that issue,” came his uncle’s plaintive voice.

“I haven’t forgotten uncle,” John said in a sinking voice. “I will call you when I find something.”

“Okay, but you never call, John. I usually just have to call first.”

“Sorry, uncle,” he felt the tears pushing against his eyeball. “Just been busy of—”

“Yes, yes. I know. But you should be making time to call. I will be waiting.”

“Okay.”

He sighed heavily as he put his phone away. His uncle lost his job several months ago. He used to work in the mines, but he was laid off along with hundreds of other miners when the company went under because of bad economic conditions. And now his uncle depended on him. But of late, things were not any better for John. The prices of pretty much everything had gone up, but his salary had remained the same. It was no longer enough for him to do everything he wanted to do. Even helping his uncle was becoming a nightmare.

When he got his meager salary, almost half of it went to rentals. What he remained, he bought food and glossaries; he sent some home to his parents and he gave some to his uncle. He remained with nothing for extras—such as clothes and other stuff that young men like buying.

He greeted the guard at the door as he swiped his access card on the detector. When he stepped inside and closed the door behind him, he was immediately plunged into a quietness that unsettled him a bit. He was the earliest, aside from the guard. He had to set up and check that everything was working properly, starting from the computers to the network.

He turned on the lights and stared a little with admiration as the dark gave way to a white, shiny world. He sighed as he opened the door to his cubical and walked in. He started up his machine and waited patiently for it complete the booting process. He sat down and analyzed the images on his screen. He smiled. All the nodes were up and running. Everything was okay.

His stomach rumbled and he realized that he did not have breakfast. He would have to wait till lunch to have a decent meal. He was never really allowed to leave his terminal.

Elizabeth walked in thirty minutes later. The rest began to trickle in one at a time until by 08 A.M everyone was in. The CEO was usually the last one to report. It never bothered anyone. But if John reported at 8, chaos would ensue.

10 A.M was tea-break, but mostly for the senior members of stuff who would gather in the lobby to fraternize and catch up. John usually never joined them; not that he was disallowed. He just never fitted in. Last time he tried, everyone had ignored him as if he never existed. In fact, one of them had asked him to refill his cup, and that had hurt him. Ever since then, he never went for tea breaks and he vowed not to.

His office was next to the lobby. In fact, it was the closest to the lobby. He would hear almost everything spoken about in the lobby. That is how he knew about the raises and allowances. But mostly he ignored everything.

From the corner of his eyes, he spotted Elizabeth. She was talking to the chief accountant, Sylvia. FANCO seemed to have a lot of women in top positions. It puzzled him, but did not bother him. He had only assumed that if women rule the world, it would be a far much better place. Obviously he had assumed wrong.

He did not care an ounce about their conversation, that is, until he heard Sylvia mention his name. He took a quick glance at her and found her staring at him with her beady little eyes that always bored through him. He quickly looked back at his computer screen and pretended to be busy.

“Don’t you think we should give John a raise? He worked so hard on the project.” She was saying. His heart began to beat in his ears and he suddenly felt hot.

“Uh-uh,” Elizabeth responded in a disparaging tone. “We pay him too much already. He only has a certificate, by the way.”

“Wow, you don’t say. And how much do we pay him?”

“Seven thousand.”

“Oh me oh my,” she sounded surprised. “That is indeed a lot. My bad… I just thought…”

“You thought wrong,” Elizabeth said, smirking.

John wondered if they knew that he could hear everything they said. Maybe they thought the glass between him and the lobby was sound proof. He shook his head.

“John, why are you shaking your head?” Elizabeth’s voice said above him.

He almost jumped out of his skin. There, standing in his door way, was Elizabeth. She was glaring down at him. Her face was unusually puffy today, and her eyes a little red. She had a large scurf around her neck; owing to, John concluded, the chilly weather. Her short hair was a little disheveled, making her look a little more monstrous than usual.

“Nothing… um… just thinking to myself.” He said, a little rattled. He wondered how quickly she had moved from the lobby to his office. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Sylvia walking away.

“Okay, I need to check something on your computer.” Her tone sounded ominous.

He stood up and gave her space. “Sure.”

She leaned over his keyboard and slowly punched some keys. She was wretchedly slow at typing and it annoyed him. She went into his documents and paused.

“What is this, John?” She asked, her eyes riveted on the screen. He peered over her shoulder and smiled.

“Oh, that—I have been doing some online lessons,” he said with a little smile. “That is part of the project I have been working on as part of the class.”

“Class?” If sound had a colour, her voice was now red.

“Yeah. You know—self-improvement. To make myself more useful around here.”

“And you have been doing that during working hours?”

“Um…” he wrinkled his brows. “Yeah. In between tasks—it doesn’t take much time.”

“You are abusing company property, John,” she said sternly turning to face him. He did not like the look on her face. It reminded him of the look his mother gave him when he had done something wrong.

“But… I am only trying to make myself better.”

“No—don’t do such during working hours. Work is strictly for work. No private jobs. No Facebook. No Youtube.”

He felt his face turn hot. He had lost his temper, but he fought not to show it. “Yes ma’am.”

“Good man,” she said smiling slyly.

She slowly and affectedly walked to the door, her large, hideous dress sweeping the floor. It made her look like a hag. She was a huge woman, and a little too round for his liking. Her dressing made her even look worse. He wondered how a person with so much money could dress up so wretchedly.

“Oh, and John?” she paused at the door.

“Yes?”

“And starting from today, leave everything here: your laptop and everything work related. For the sake of you know—security.”

“But… I need the laptop at night for study and stuff.”

“Watching porn you mean?” She grinned, showing her large teeth. It made her look hideous and a little like a warthog. She had these two large incisors that always seemed to stick out of her mouth when she grinned like that.

“God no,” he said, sounding hurt and looking away from her awful face. He had of course watched porn once or twice, but it was never his habit. He only watched it when he stumbled across it and that was not much. He felt like telling her to the face that she is the one who looked as if she watched porn often.

“Then good,” she said, her countenance switching back to serious in an instant. “Then do as I say. It’s for your own good.”

“Okay,” he said grudgingly. He watched her walk away, his hatred for her growing with each step she took.

John sat down at his desk and stared at the computer screen. He suddenly hated everything. He hated his job. He hated Elizabeth. He knew what she was up to. She did not want him to upgrade his papers. She wanted to keep him here, stuck in this little cubical, forever her little slave. He clenched his fists.

A message suddenly popped on his screen. It was Elizabeth.

“John, please prepare my PowerPoint slides for the event this evening.”

He frowned as he remembered. Tonight FANCO was meeting with another financial giant, PANBIC to sign off a partnership over the mobile banking application. It was going to be a grand occasion at Moba Hotel. And of course, as usual, the architect of the system, he, one John Kabwita, was mysteriously not invited.

“Okay,” he responded.

“Do it quick. I need to go over the material before the event so be done by midday.”

“Okay, madam.”

He set to work. He knew the system. She did not. He had to make her look like she knew it. He bit his lip.

~

It was 8 P.M. The distinguished guests were all gathered in the conference room, waiting upon Miss Elizabeth Macbeth Chinyoni to do her marvelous presentation about a miracle mobile banking solution that was making people’s lives easier and making the Banking fraternity lots of money. Among the distinguished guests was Chanda Kabwe, the CEO of PANBIC, who was very excited about this new partnership.

“Good evening everyone!” Miss Chinyoni bellowed excitedly. “I am glad to be honoured with this opportunity to present our finest invention yet! We have worked tirelessly for months to come up with this great innovation.

“Without further ado, I present to you FANCO Mobile Banking!”


People clapped, and the words ‘FANCO Mobile Banking’ flashed on the large screen behind her. She had rehearsed well and she knew she was going to take the crowd by storm. She pressed a button on the remote in her hand and loud music began to play.

She appeared puzzled for a second and said into the microphone. “Sorry about that—just a minor glitch.”

But no one head her. The microphone was dead, and the music a little too loud. Puzzled, she turned to look at the screen.

Suddenly, moaning sounds filled the conference hall, and to her shock and horror, a naked woman appeared on the screen, sucking a man’s penis. Another man stood behind her, thrusting into her anus, groaning with apparent pleasure.

The audience gasped, horrified; some of them looking away in disgust. Panic gripped her and she tried to turn it down, but the remote did not work. She rushed to the projector and tried to switch it off but nothing happened. The wretched thing refused to go off.

Suddenly the moaning and groaning stopped and the screen turned white. Words appeared on the screen and people squinted to read them. But they did not have to. Miss Elizabeth’s voice came over the speakers.

“If you were disgusted by what you saw, then you should even be more disgusted by FANCO’s Mobile Banking solution.”

The audience stared at her with looks beyond shock, beyond horror. Miss Chinyoni’s eyes were now popping out of her sockets. She was gesturing that it was not her talking; that it was a recording, but standing there in front of the mike gesticulating wildly, made it look even worse.

“FANCO is making money out of poor people, amassing billions out of the sweat of the common man and woman. We are not geniuses. We are not heroes. We are just clever thieves.” The voice continued.

“And so today, I am giving back to the community the wealth that FANCO has amassed fraudulently. As the main architect of this system, I am crediting back all the money to the rightful owners. Any second now, you should receive messages on your phone from your respective banks showing you that you have received money—your money back!”

The room was thrown into confusion as cellphones began to ring and beep all over the place.

Outside, a young man stared expectantly at his phone. The screen flashed and the message he was waiting for appeared:

“K400,000.00 has been credited to your account.”

He took off the waiter apron and walked away. He had hacked the system on which the FANCO mobile banking system sat. He had remotely run a batch file that had executed on the servers, crediting almost every bank account on FANCO and its partners with an in ordinate amount of money. And interestingly, the computer that had initiated the hack belonged to Miss Elizabeth Macbeth Chinyoni.

He had switched the PowerPoint slide he had prepared for her with another one. He had cloned her voice and made it play over the speakers.

The damage was extensive and difficult to reverse. It had destroyed all previous financial records both on-site and off-site. No one would know what anyone prior to the attack had in their accounts. The only solution would be a total system lock down. But the only guy who knew how to really lock down the system was walking away. It would take days for them to figure out how to do it.

His name was John Kabwita, the IT guy. But tonight, he was the IT guy no more. He had turned over a new leaf.