The Mentor Part1

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one

There are not many people who come into your life and

fundamentally change everything about it. Sure, there arepeople who might play a part in your life story, or who

influence your beliefs and decisions. But it probably only

happens once or twice in a lifetime where a personality

pulls you into its slipstream, causing you to steer off course

for a while before you can regain your bearings and find the

road again. This is exactly what happened to me in the

months I spent with Kent Manzini, the person who changed

my life forever.

The strange thing, looking back, is that I still havent come

to any sort of fixed judgment about him. I know that when I

relate this story you will think he is a bad character a

greedy, opportunistic user and exploiter. But the more I

think about it the more I realise that you can only judge

someone in the context of their environment and their

constitution. We dont condemn vultures for eating

corpses. In other words, we do what we do to get bye. And

maybe Kent is the perfect example. But let me tell you the

story and you can judge for yourself.

two

I dont have very clear memory of the first time I met him.

We were introduced one night at a place in town where all

the yuppies, politicians, business types and entrepreneurs

gathered to network and get drunk. It was one of those

pretentious places where the drinks were criminally

overpriced simply because of the types of people who

frequented the place. It wasnt a place I had ever been to

before I didnt fit in at all and I couldnt really afford theprices. But on that night Thami, an old university friend of


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mine, convinced me to join him so we could catch up and

talk about old times, maybe chat up a few women.

It took me less than an hour to get sick of the place, eventhough Thami was buying our rounds. He was completely in

his element in these surroundings. He dropped out of his

studies after a year to open a small event planning

business. Before long he was winning big contracts and he

used places like this for access to people who could arrange

more work for him. His real reason for coming to here was

obviously to work the room, not to drink or chat.

I stood out like a sore thumb. Everyone else came dressed

to the nines in jackets and ties while I huddled in the corner

in my usual faded jeans and tracksuit top. What really got

to me, though, was that Thami knew half the room and

kept darting off to talk with everyone at different tables. I

was left to drink by myself, like an outcast. I cursed myself

for not coming in my own car.

By the time Kent and his entourage joined our table I was

well on the way to passing out. I dont recall if they were

invited over or if they just gradually invaded our space.

What I do remember is how we traded barbs from the word

go. He must have singled me out as someone to pick on

because of the way I was dressed. Or maybe it was because

everyone could see that I had already partied a bit too

much that evening and was the worse for wear. I remember

him sticking a hand out at me and saying:

My name is Kent Manzini, how are you my brother?

The men around him started to chuckle, obviously amused

by the sight of this grey-suited, well groomed king of the

universe being condescending towards a poor drunk punk. I

mumbled something in reply and shook his hand.


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I didnt catch your name, he prompted.

Molefe Duiker, I slurred back over the music.

Duiker! What kind of a name is that for an African?

By now everyone at the table was in stitches.

Its more African than Kent. Were you conceived there, or

did your mother name you after the cigarette? I replied,

and it came out more aggressive than I meant it to. At least

it had the effect of wiping the smiles off all their faces.

Judging by the way the atmosphere in the room seemed todrop, I fully expected him to take offense and attack me.

Instead he smiled and patted me on the back.

I like this guy, he announced to the room. Hes got a big

heart. What did you say your name was, again?

Molefe.

Well call you Molly, then. Waiter, please bring anotherdrink for my friend Molly.

The rest of the evening was a blur. I know we went on

drinking until the early hours of the next morning, but I

dont remember much about whom I spoke to and what I

said. I woke up the next morning feeling like a zombie. The

first thing I noticed was a text message from Thami, telling

me that Kent was interested in meeting with me. He gaveme his number and email address. Apparently he wanted to

talk business.

three

I went to work at the call centre as usual the next morning.

I was so used to working hung over that it felt more naturalthan arriving at work sober. But I was too distracted to be


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productive that day. I went through the motions of trying to

sell life insurance over the phone, all the while counting

down the hours and minutes to the end of the working day.

I didnt know too much about this Kent Manzini character,

but from what I could gather he was a good person to

know.

After work I phoned Thami, trying to get more information.

Apparently Manzini was a big operator on the local business

scene. He was only in his 30s but was already a millionaire

who owned many businesses. He had an MBA from a

university in the United States and was also an ordained

preacher and respected motivational speaker. Everyone

who was anyone knew him, and it was rumoured that he

was the biggest funder of one of the most prominent up-

and-coming ruling party politicians. All of this was

impressive, but what I still couldnt understand was why a

guy like this wanted to meet with me. I told Thami that I

was sceptical about his motives.

What do you have to lose? he asked. Its not every day a

millionaire takes an interest in you. It might lead to

something big, you never know. Or are you happy with

working in that call centre the rest of your life?

The meeting was arranged for later that week. I got paid a

basic per hour and a small percentage of every policy I sold,

so there was no problem with me taking an afternoon off. I

was given the address of an office park close to the Sandton

CBD. I parked my car in the underground lot and checked

my appearance in the mirror. I hoped that I was dressed

appropriately. I wasnt sure if what was about to happen

constituted a job interview, or just a casual chat. I had

decided to err on the side of caution and go in my only suit.

The trousers were slightly lighter than the jacket because Iwore them more often, but it still looked quite respectable.


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The building complex was one of those new age office parks

where the offices and conference rooms were cordoned off

into different blocks and were separated by gardens and

water features. I reported to reception and was given a

small map giving directions to Mr Manzinis office. I had to

walk through a zen garden and over the bridge of a koi

pond. The place was strangely deserted. Usually an office

block in the middle of the afternoon is a hub of activity. This

place, in contrast, was completely uninhabited. Or rather,

the people that were there were not visible. They were

hidden away in the nooks and crannies, enjoying theirprivacy.

I got to the correct block, which was called Orchid and

decorated with large colour prints of the flower. Manzini

was just outside the door of the building, chewing on a mint

that he had just taken out of the packet. His clean-shaven

skull gleamed as it reflected the spring sunshine.

Hey, Molly! Im happy you made it. With a practiced

motion he flicked the mints wrapper into the pristine koi

pond. I pretended not to notice, but I couldnt help thinking

that the person responsible for keeping the fish alive

wouldnt be too happy if he saw that. Manzini escorted me

into the tiny foyer. We poured coffee from the filter

machine and took our mugs into the glass-partitioned office

containing his desk, suitcase and laptop.

Once inside the building I noticed more signs of activity

than were evident outside. I could hear people in other

rooms, typing and talking on the telephone. The drone of

the air conditioning system made it difficult for me to make

out exactly what they were saying. Manzini himself seemed

strangely aloof from all this chaos. He shut the door,

immediately blocking out the noise, and settled down intohis chair after directing to me mine. We drank our coffees


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for a while and he seemed to be reading his email in

between sips. After a few minutes of this he squeezed the

bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb, sighed

softly, and then got down to business.

The reason I asked you to come is because of what

happened the other night, he began.

What about the other night?

The way you spoke to me in front of everyone...

Look, I didnt mean anything by it. I was drunk and it justcame out, I explained.

No, dont apologise, he said. I like the way you stood your

ground. I like people with a backbone. All those other

people I consider leeches. They go out with me just to be

seen with someone important. Ive decided that I need

more people like you surrounding me.

Do you mean socially?

No, not just socially. Im someone who believes that you

cant completely separate social and professional life. My

personal brand encompasses everything I do and say.

So what exactly do you want from me?

Im sure youve heard my story. Im a busy man with lots of

different interests and projects. I need what you might call

an Executive Assistant.

You want me to be your secretary?

No, no! I dont want to dictate letters to you or ask you to

bring in the tea. I can use anyone for those tasks. But I do

need someone strong to plan my engagements, my travel

arrangements, those types of thing. Ive been doing most of


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that myself, and I think its time for me to delegate in that

department.

You know I dont have any experience in that type ofthing? I said.

Yes, your friend has told me some of your background.

Apparently you have a qualification in science but you sell

life insurance?

I did have a science degree, but a couple of years as an

intern at a government laboratory had killed any

enthusiasm I once had for the scientific life. I was resigned

to my fate and was content with continuing my career in

insurance.

Yes, thats what Ive been doing for the last few years. The

moneys not great but its a start. I explained.

Thats the problem with you guys who havent seen the

world. You always think small. Dont you think you deservebetter? I was really intrigued with his accent. It was

something I noticed during our encounter in the bar that

first night. You could hear from the way he talked that he

had received an expensive education overseas.

Well, yes... I began to answer him but then I noticed that

his attention had shifted away from me towards a figure he

could see through the window. There was a white womanwalking across the bridge towards the office, and her

imminent arrival seemed to spur him into getting to the

point quickly. He took out a block of post-it notes and

scribbled something on the top page before handing it to

me.

Look, I dont know what you earn at the moment and I

dont really care. But that is what I am willing to give you,after tax and deductions, if you accept. Look at it, think


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about it, and then decide. If you like it, you can start on

Monday. Now you have to excuse me. Thanks for coming

Molly.

He got up and opened the door for me and I only had time

to take the slip of paper and put it in my pocket before I

was out the door. I passed the woman on my way out the

building and couldnt help but take a quick look. She was

taller than me in her heels, a perfectly built buxom blonde.

Just before Kent closed the door I heard her say Hello

Love! before pecking him on the cheek. What would his

comrades say about that, I wondered?

I sat in my car for a little while, trying to make sense of

what just happened. The meeting had gone a lot better

than I expected, even if it only lasted a few minutes. The

man certainly had a presence, and I considered myself lucky

to get noticed by someone as successful as he was. The

offer seemed a bit strange but Thami was right: what did I

have to lose? If the money was alright, why not have a stab

at being an Executive Assistant to a figure like that?

Eventually the slip of paper felt like it was burning a hole in

my pocket. I looked at it, and even before I made out all the

figures my mind was already made up. It was approximately

triple the amount I made in a good month at the call centre.

I was about to begin a new life.

four

I really enjoyed the change in scenery during those first few

weeks in Orchid. It was a new experience for me to work

in a place where I could take a break whenever I wanted

and where I didnt have to cower under a power-hungry

supervisor. I also got a kick out of being given my own cell-phone, laptop and email address. The only thing that struck


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me as strange was that I wasnt given my own separate

office. Kent arranged for another desk to be brought into

the room he used as an office. I was given the corner next

to the window.

The office we worked from were the headquarters of

Kentman Investments, which was the umbrella company

that housed all of Kents businesses. Before I started the job

I did some internet research and found out that after

returningfrom overseas he made some money in the

construction business with a company called Manzibuild.

He also started businesses in waste management and water

purification, but all of those were sold now. The active

businesses under Kentman seemed to be in the fields of IT,

health and wellness, whatever that meant.

To call my activities in Kents office work would be slightly

misleading. I spent most of my time following him around,

leather-bound notebook in hand listening to him talk about

himself and how to be successful in business. Reading those

notes today, I cant make much sense of his comments I

dont know if it is because of the way I took them down or if

they were genuinely as erratic and incoherent as they are in

the notes. At the time he seemed like some kind of modern

day Marcus Aurelius mixed with a good dose of Bishop TD

Jakes. He preached about doing things for yourself and

taking responsibility for the creation of your own wealth.He could quote the bible and JayZee in the same rambling

sentence and still make his original point.

Whenever he asked me whether I had any questions, I kept

trying to direct the conversation towards the practical

aspects of the business. What I wanted to know could be

summed up with one question: How exactly do you make

your money? But the harder I pushed the vaguer hisanswers became. The closest he ever came to answering


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this question was to tell me that he didnt really focus on

any one of his businesses. He had reached a stage where he

could invest in many different businesses and exploit

whatever opportunities were available at the time. When I

asked for some examples, he would say:

Dont stress the details, my friend. The ideas are more

important than counting the cents. Business is about

fulfilling your destiny, not making money.

I also found it strange that a company as big and prestigious

as Kentman Investments should have so few employees. Irealised very early on that the people I noticed working in

Orchid were not part of our company, they just rented

space in the same building. In fact, I was beginning to

wonder if I was the only Kentman employee.

Of course not, Kent reassured me. I have people around

the country. I just dont believe in the old-fashioned thing

of having everyone in an office. These days, with the newtechnology, all you need is a smart-phone. Once you have

been trained up, youll also be free to come and go as you

want. I prefer my people out in the world, meeting the

people who can make us the money!

The one aspect of his life that was very important to him

was arranging meetings with people. He would ask me to

call the PAs of the people he needed to speak to, and thenbook tables at his favourite restaurants and nightclubs. I

never went with him to those meetings so I didnt know

what he was discussing with them. These meetings took up

a good deal of his time. While he was away from the office I

was left pretty much to my own devices. I had free reign to

do whatever I needed to do. The only thing I had to keep an

eye on was his diary, and give him an update every so often

about who he was supposed to meet next, and where.


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One Friday afternoon I got a call from Kent. He told me to

clear his diary and to prepare myself to go out for a late

lunch with him and his girlfriend. I assumed it was the same

woman I saw the first time I came to his office.

Maryne should be there in the next half an hour or so,

please wait for her in the parking lot. She wants you to join

us because her baby sister is visiting her from the Free

State. She needs some company closer to her own age, he

explained. Well go someplace we all can enjoy.

She pulled up in a red Audi, exactly the same model asKents silver ride. Her sister sat in the passenger seat, an

identical looking, younger and far grumpier version of

Maryne. Her name was Tanica, and it was obvious that she

was hating every minute of being there. I got to talking with

Maryne, who turned out to be a marketing type, friendly

and very chatty. Part of her friendliness might have been an

attempt to make up for her sisters bad manners but she

seemed genuinely interested in getting to know me. I was

her mans new right hand man, after all.

I also figured that her baby sisters English might not be so

good, and Tanica was trying to make things more

comfortable for her by translating certain things. I also

learned that Tanica was still studying, and was living with

Kent and her eldest sister for the holidays. Their parents

lived in some small town and thought it would be good for

their youngest daughter to be exposed to city life before

she started working too.

We ended up at the local mall, in a restaurant that served

good food but was also popular with people just wanting a

cocktail or ten after work. It stayed open until late, and

later that night some of Kents business connections made

an appearance. He and Maryne went over to one of their


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tables, leaving me and Tanica alone for the first time. I

thought she might be more comfortable talking to me

without the other two present, so I shuffled over closer to

her and began to ask about her visit.

It must be nice spending time with your sister again?

Its OK, I suppose. I usually only see her at home, when she

comes to visit.

So how does Kent handle it when he goes to visit your

parents?

He doesnt. When she comes home to visit she never

brings Kent. They have never seen him before.

But they know about him? Theyve been seeing each other

for years now.

They know a little bit about him. She speaks to me more

than she speaks to them.

They know hes not Afrikaans, not white.

They suspect. I mean, Im sure theyve figured it out by

now.

And theyre OK with it.

I wouldnt say OK. Theres nothing they can do about it, so

why must they worry.

It took me a while to process this. For all his status and

wealth, the man was still not accepted.

And you, what do you think of Kent? You know him quite

well already.

I dont like him. But not because of what you are saying.

Why dont you like him then?


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She leaned closer to me, looked me in the eyes, and said:

Because he lies.

I tried to get her to explain what she meant, but I couldnt

get anything further out of her. I never ever forgot those

words though. They made no sense at the time. I was

convinced the family vilified him for having the nerve to

become involved with their precious blonde and blue-eyed

daughter. There was just something about her tone when

she said those words that made me pause. She said them

like she really meant them.

five

Just after a month into the job, Kent decided that I would

be of more use to him if I joined him on his travels. He was

booked on a two-week government sponsored speaking

tour. He was meant to give motivational talks to groups ofblack businessmen in three big cities and a few small towns

in between. He arranged for me to accompany him, so I had

to drop everything and get ready to leave with him.

A strange thing happened on the flight to the coast, where

he was expected for the first speaking engagement. He was

booked to speak the next morning, and I was sitting next to

him on the late afternoon flight. He was talking about thefirst time he got on an aeroplane. It was when he won the

scholarship to study business overseas. According to him,

he was a simple, unsophisticated boy from the township

and the thought of being so high in the air frightened him

so much that he spent most of the long flight in the toilet.

He joked that at least in the cubicle there was nobody to sit

next to him and see how he was shaking. The drinks trolley

came past and he asked if I wanted a whisky. I said yes, and


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when the stewardess arrived he asked for one whisky and

two mineral waters.

What, are we going to share the shot? I joked.

No, Molly, its for you. I never touchthe stuff.

What? I asked, not believing what I was hearing.

Whenever I saw him in a bar or restaurant he always had a

glass with a shot or two of something in it. I told him as

much.

Maybe youve seen me with a glass of liquor on my hand.But have you ever seen me drinking any of it? he asked me.

No, I cant say...

Thats because Im a teetotaller. The glass is all for my

image. Its for the look, part of my brand. In reality I dont

drink alcohol. Havent tasted any in my life.

I sipped my drink and listened to his ruminations on varioustopicsfor the rest of the journey. This would be the first of

many interesting things I learned about my travelling

partner on that trip.

We collected our luggage and headed towards the car

rental agency. At the counter Kent asked me to fill in the

paperwork and hand over my licence for them to make a

copy. The organisers of the talk would be paying the costs,but I would be listed as the person to whom the car was

released.

Mr Duiker will be doing all the driving, he explained to the

girl behind the counter. This was news to me. I had

prepared myself for two weeks of sitting in the passenger

seat while Kent drove us around.


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And please print him directions to our hotel, he called

after her. He turned to me to explain: Youre on your own

for the rest of the day. My lift is waiting for me in the other

parking lot. Go check yourself in and get some room

service, anything you like, on the rooms account. And

theres a comfy bar downstairs, spend some time there if

you want. Well meet again early tomorrow morning with

the other speakers at the conference room at our hotel. I

have some business to see to before then.

I found all this a bit strange, especially given that I was

supposed to be the person in charge of planning his

schedule, but I wasnt going to complain. Who was I to

question the way he did things? I couldnt help but wonder,

though, what kind of business he had to see to late at

night in a strange town. I told myself that I was probably

reading too much into the incident. People like Kent were

well connected and knew other important people in every

town in the country. They prided themselves on theirextensive networks.

I was given the keys to a late-model white Nissan sedan and

sent on my way with my luggage, hotel reservation

documents and map. I stayed at the bar until around

midnight, waiting to see whether he would be staying there

for the night, and who he would arrive with. Eventually I

reached the conclusion that he was going to be sleepingsomewhere else. I signed for my drinks before going

upstairs to get some rest before the big engagement later

that morning.

six

To fully understand Kent Manzini, you have to witness himin front of a crowd. Its as if he becomes a different person,


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as if something possesses him and he loses himself in the

moment. He feeds off the energy of the people he is

speaking to, and the more enthusiastic they get about what

he is saying the better he gets at saying it. I had the

privilege of watching him perform this magic time after

time to crowd after crowd. He could talk in at least three or

four different languages, and adapted his speeches

according to the region he was in. What he said, and the

way he expressed himself catered to everyones taste -

from the uneducated and illiterate to the serious scholar.

On a typical day during the speaking tour we would meet in

the lobby of our hotel for breakfast. At least half the time,

Kent would have slept somewhere other than the hotel and

he would arrive for breakfast with whomever was hosting

him the previous evening. I was often shocked by the

amount of high calibre people he associated with. I would

come downstairs in the morning and be confronted with

Kent pulling me towards a table and saying:

Mr So-and-So, meet my assistant Molly, and I would be

shaking hands with the Director General of some or other

government department, or the CEO of a company. Other

times I would have to have breakfast with the head of a

church or spokesperson of a political party. There were

even times when we were joined by people whose faces I

recognised as TV presenters or actors. But most of the time,the person joining us for breakfast would be a what I

started to think of as type A bluppie, in other words a

young businessman, usually extremely well groomed and

impeccably dressed, who happened to be the next best

thing in his line of work. I met a string of people in this

mould bank executives, marketing gurus, economic

forecasters, investment analysts and even a few business

journalists. They all seemed hungry for a piece of Kent. It


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struck me how lucky I was to have so much access to the

man, when all these important people had to hustle to get

some face time with him.

After breakfast we would drive in convoy to the speaking

venue. We were in small towns most of the time so this was

usually straightforward. But there were other times when

we were in big cities and where traffic came into play, when

I was given the task of leading the convoy in my rental car,

which always came with a GPS navigator. I would always

drive alone. During these trips I often stole a glance in the

rear-view mirror at the car behind me. The scene would

always be identical. There would be a chauffeured luxury

car following me, with the breakfast guest and Kent

huddled in conference on the back seat. I say in conference

but it was almost always Kent talking while gesticulating

with his hands and the other person listening and nodding.

On arrival at the venue I would go in first and liaise with the

organisers to find out the exact time Kent needed to start

speaking. I would go back to convey this information and

plan our own schedule for the day. I would set up the

laptop with the presentation slides on it and make sure that

it was connected to the projector and that the projector

was working properly. Kent would give his presentation,

there would be a lunch for all the participants, and then the

afternoon would be spent networking in smaller groups andarranging private meetings. In the late afternoon I would be

told what the plan was for the evening. Either I would have

to join Kent for supper with one of the organisers, or he

would have to attend to some other business and I would

be sent back to the hotel and told that he would see me in

the morning again.

This routine went on until the last day of the tour. Therewas no speaking engagement that morning and our flight


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back home was only at lunchtime. I thought this would give

us an opportunity to sleep in, but Kent informed me

otherwise.

We need to be at the bank when they open their doors.

Meet me downstairs after breakfast with your bags packed.

Well be taking your car today.

We loaded everything into the car and I drove him to a

branch in town. Before he got out the car he grabbed his

laptop bag, removed his laptop and walked into the branch

with the empty satchel. The transaction must have beenarranged before he got there because he was back outside

in under 20 minutes. He kept the satchel on the floor

between his feet and began directing me to a different part

of time. We pulled into the parking lot of a government

building. At the entrance I could see that it was the

headquarters of the provincial health department.

What are we doing here? I asked him. Again, this wasntpart of the itinerary we had so painstakingly planned.

I have some business interests with this department, he

replied. This might take a little while so put on the air

conditioning on and listen to some radio. If it takes too

long, I may phone you and tell you to check our baggage in

at the airport and then come back for me. But stay here

until I tell you otherwise.

You dont need me to come with you?

No, that wont be necessary. I dont want to confuse them

with a new face, he said with a smile.

He took the satchel and headed in the direction of the main

entrance. Before he got there he was intercepted by what

looked like one of the officials who worked in the building.They greeted each other and then the official directed Kent


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to a side entrance to the building. They disappeared from

view. I took Kents advice and made myself comfortable in

the car. I was tired of being on the road and I missed home,

even if it was a one-bedroom dump in a vibrant

neighbourhood. I had just received my first months salary,

and the amount was so much that I was considering finding

something nicer, closer to work maybe. Or maybe a newer

car? My 20-year old scrap had been giving me problems. I

pushed my seat back and dozed off, lulled by the drone of

the radio and the sun.

I was woken by Kent slamming the door. I took one look at

his face and knew that things had not gone according to

plan inside the building. He was sweating heavily and the

first thing he did once in the car was crank up the air-

conditioning to its maximum. His facial expressions also

showed signs of strain. For the first time I noticed that

despite his well-groomed exterior, he had bags under his

eyes and worry lines on his forehead. I even wonderedwhether it was true that he was only in his 30s. The

youthful air he gave off, like so much else about him, might

be something practiced, something he worked hard at

achieving.

Ok, lets go home, he said with a resigned air. He didnt

say anything else for the rest of the trip to the airport. I

knew better than to try to get anything out of him. In anycase, he was too busy on his phone, sending messages and

checking his emails. I clearly remember him having to shove

his laptop into one of the kitbags containing his clothing.

The laptop satchel he walked in with had been left in the

building.

seven


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The end of the year was approaching and I was beginning to

wonder about how much leave I would be given around

Christmas. I had no family to worry about and I had only

just started in the job, but I was still dreading spending the

festive season working. All my friends were already

planning their holidays. I asked Kent about this and to my

relief he told me that he would be away for a few weeks.

Im going skiing in the Alps with Maryne and another

couple were friends with, but were only leaving on Boxing

Day. Where are you having Christmas lunch? he asked.

At one of my friends I suppose.

Well Im giving you three weeks off after Christmas to

spend with your friends. Why dont you come to my place

on Christmas day? Bring your favourite booze because I

dont keep any. Ill be cooking a feast for you, Maryne and a

close friends of ours. Oh, and dont forget your costume

The way he said it made it clear that it was more of an

instruction than an invitation. I wasnt exactly a fan of

swimming pools and the thought of spending Christmas day

with Kents rich friends wasnt my idea of fun. But I was

glad to hear about such a long holiday and decided that it

made sense to suffer through one day of pain and boredom

to gain three weeks of freedom.

He gave me directions to their place. I had never been there

before, so I was pretty eager to see exactly how large he

was living. The address was as upmarket as I expected but

when I got the house it was smaller and somehow grubbier

than I imagined it. Which is not to say that it lacked

anything. He owned everything there was to own, but

somehow it didnt all fit together. The complex they lived

in, for example, was an expensive Tuscan-themed estate.Yet Kent had insisted on installing palm trees in his back


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yard. The inside of the place was also cluttered with

everything from spas to gym equipment and every

domestic appliance known to man.

I was greeted at the door by Maryne, who wished me a

merry Christmas and told me to make myself comfortable.

It was stiflingly hot that day, so she was already in a

Christmas-themed bathing costume covered with a sarong

and Father Christmas hat. Judging by her breath when she

pecked me on the cheek, she was far from sharing her

partners aversion to alcohol. She took the six pack and

vodka I had with me to put in the fridge.

You shouldnt have bothered with this stuff. I brought

plenty myself, she explained.

I thought he doesnt keep any in the house, I answered.

He doesnt, but I brought some from my place. Can I pour

you a cocktail?

I was confused by the comment. Why didnt they live

together? There was plenty of room for two people even if

it wasnt the mansion I expected. I took the glass she

offered me and walked with her to the entertainment area

outside. Kent was standing in the shallow side of the

swimming pool, talking to a huge hairy barrel-chested

figure who Maryne introduced as Gautam Dev, a close

friend and business partner visiting from India.

Molly, put your shorts on and come join us. I need your

opinion on something.

By the time I changed Maryne had brought out a platter of

snacks and a drinks trolley with more cocktails. She was in

the pool, doing laps past the men who chatted away while

sitting on the steps. I climbed in gingerly, but the day was


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so hot that the water temperature wasnt that much cooler

than the air anyway.

Molly, I was just telling Gautam that in South Africa, deathis big business! began Kent jovially.

For a few seconds I was stunned by the comment. It was

just such an incongruous thing to say on a beautiful, warm

summer day, Christmas to boot, while relaxing in a pool in

the leafy suburbs.

Yes, I suppose AIDS and crime and all that, I managed to

mumble in response.

Exactly, crime and AIDS! parroted Kent. Our morgues are

always full with bodies. The undertakers and funeral home

owners are millionaires these days. Death is big business

here.

No, no, let me tell you two something, Gautam

interrupted. There is no country on earth where life ischeaper than in India. There are just too many people for us

to care whether one or two die or not. And so much of

poverty! Sometimes you wonder why these people care to

breed at all. All their kids can look forward to is a few

hungry years of suffering before dying in the streets.

I took another swig and tried to adjust to the weirdness of

the conversation. I watched Maryne gracefully glidethrough the water, performing the breaststroke perfectly.

She kept the sarong on when she swam. I remember

thinking how strange it was that someone with such a

perfect body would want to keep it covered.

I was telling Gautam that I fully expect Manzihealth, my

healthcare company, to become the best performer among

all my businesses. Health and wellness is the new gold.People cant stop spending on feeling good. And if that


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doesnt work, you just get them to spend on looking good!

The one budget that never dries up is the vanity budget.

We all laughed at this. Maryne had stopped swimming andwas drying herself by stretching out on the baking tiles next

to the pool. Kent abruptly stopped laughing. He turned

towards her as if he had just thought of something.

I better start cooking the meal, he excused himself.

As I expected, he wheeled out a huge gas griller and began

to fiddle with the knobs. He was going to cook everything

outside, tradition be damned. And instead of turkey or

gammon, he decided that seafood was more appropriate.

We gathered around to help and also to watch him cook. By

now Maryne and I were also were cooked after a few

cocktails each, and I decided to switch to beer before things

got out of hand. Gautam was on his first cocktail, but he

seemed to be light on juice because it had an immediate

effect. He kept trying to help Kent with the cooking with theresult that utensils and other equipment started dropping.

To distract him Kent told Maryne: While were all here,

why dont you get the presents I bought for them.

She came back out of the house with two little boxes. Mine

contained a silk Italian tie, monogrammed with the

companys logo, the capital letters K and M in fancy script.

Kent joked that it was time I started wearing ties andstarted looking the part of someone who earned as much

as I did. Gautam decided to open his later. Kent suggested

that he keep it wrapped for his trip back to India and open

it once he got home. The giving of the gifts started us

talking about what Kent and Maryne had got for each

other.

That, unfortunately, is between the two of us, said Kent.Maryne burst out laughing, to Kents obvious irritation.


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Come on, love. Lets tell them, she said.

Absolutely not, he insisted, and she could tell that he

wasnt joking anymore.

Im sure the skiing trip is part of your gift for each other, I

suggested, mainly to break the tension. They nodded in

unison. Kent smiled again and took another sip of his soda

water and lime.

After the meal and desert Gautam began to make

preparations to leave. He explained that he needed to get

some rest and prepare some final things before his

departure the next day. Kent took me aside and asked me

to stay and watch Maryne while he took Gautam back to

the hotel.

She does weird things when shes alone and drunk. Shes

not supposed to mix alcohol with her medication. Im a bit

scared shell hurt herself. Stay and have a few more drinks

with her until I get back. I need at least one sane person in

the house while Im gone.

I can always take him, I began, already uncomfortable with

the prospect of being alone with his woman in his house.

No, please. Im the only one who would pass a breathalyser

now. Besides, Gautam and I have a few things to discuss on

the way there.

When they were gone we decided to take our drinks to the

swimming pool and cool off after the big meal. After what I

had just been told, I somehow felt more comfortable

outside than in the house. Maryne seemed fine to me,

though, and we shot the breeze for a while before she

brought up the topic.


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You know how we were speaking earlier about gifts? she

asked. The reason he didnt want to say what they were is

because it would embarrass him in front of Gautam. See,

we already have everything all the phones, gadgets and

cars we can handle. So for the last two years we have been

buying each other procedures.

Procedures? What do you mean? I was honestly

perplexed.

You know, bored rich people procedures. Botox and work

and other stuff. Why do you think we look so fabulous? shesaid this last word with a snort of drunken sarcasm. We are

both into that kind of thing, and its so easy for us to

arrange because of his contacts in the medical business.

Hes had skin lightening, botox and other work on his face.

Makes him look ten years younger than he is.

What about you?

Well, thats the thing. This year, I had to ask for another

procedure for Christmas. But this one is more corrective

than anything.

What are you talking about? I asked.

She stood there for a while, contemplating her answer. It

was obvious that she needed to get something off her chest

but she just didnt have the words to do it. She walkedtowards me and slowly unclipped the knot holding the

sarong. I backed away from her, still holding a beer, until

my legs were against the side wall of the swimming pool.

She came closer and closer until she was nearly on top of

me, and she was reaching behind her back and unclipping

her bikini top, which fell into the water revealing her huge

breasts. They were firm, pasty and uneven with small red

lumps pressing against the skin, which was stretched and


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flaky. Her nipples were completely inverted, two deep holes

disappearing into her flesh. The sight sobered me up

immediately. I tried not to look at her face but I could see

that she registered the disgust in my expression.

Nice, isnt it. Another Kent Manzini success story, she

slurred and tried to laugh but burst into tears instead. She

covered herself, got out of the pool and ran inside. I could

hear the bedroom door slamming shut. I heard her sobbing

loudly inside the bedroom, but she eventually became quiet

and I gathered that she was fast asleep.

eight

I never got the full three weeks of holiday because a week

after New Year I got a call from a frantic Kent. He told me

he was cutting short his skiing trip because there was an

emergency we had to deal with. He needed me in the office

the next day. It was a good thing I stayed in town instead of

going home to visit my parents as I initially planned. I

reported bright and early the next morning and found Kent

in the office reading a newspaper. He called me over and

pointed to a small story on one of the pages. It was about a

lawsuit being filed by a patient of a state hospital who

developed septicaemia after getting an injection with a

defective syringe. The hospital expected more people tocome forward with similar complaints.

Have a look at this. A friend alerted me while I was

overseas, he said and pointed to a specific paragraph.

Officials are blaming the poor quality of the hospital

equipment on the health departments preferred supplier,

Manzihealth. Despite numerous efforts, we were unable to

get any response from Manzihealth owner, Kent Manzini or


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any spokesperson for the company. The department of

health in the province has announced that it is to

investigate the incident and relook its agreement with

suppliers of medical equipment.

Can you believe those bastards? he exclaimed. I was on

holiday and my work phone was off. How was I supposed to

know they wanted a response from us?

So its true, what this guy is claiming. Is it the companys

fault?

Well have to take a look. Sometimes you get a bad batch

of products, theres nothing you can do. What these people

dont understand is that were running a business, were

trying to make profit. They get what they pay for, and then

when things go wrong they want to shift the blame to us.

For now, you have to help me come up with a response. My

PR guy is on his way. He works from Pretoria but he will be

meeting me for lunch. I will be spending lots of time withhim until all of this blows over. I need you here to man this

office and field any calls or queries. Your line will be that I

will release a statement when the time is appropriate. No

comment at the moment.

After he left I reread the story, trying to determine exactly

how serious this problem was. I kept thinking about

Marynes words in the swimming pool another KentManzini success story. Did it mean that these mistakes were

common? The whole idea seemed preposterous. I couldnt

get myself to believe that a company as respectable as

Kentman, and a businessman as respected as Kent Manzini,

could have anything to do with such shenanigans. Like he

told me, he never got involved in the brass tacks aspects of

his businesses. So it must be someone else, running one of

the smaller companies in the group, responsible for


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supplying the faulty medical supplies. But then why did

Maryne blame him for her botched surgery?

I spent the next week taking the odd phone call frompeople looking for Kent. Only a fraction of the queries had

to do with the newspaper story. I gave them the line I was

instructed to give, and Kent really did go underground for

most of that time. I received the odd communication from

him, usually to the effect that he was hunkered down

somewhere with his spin doctor, putting out fires. In fact,

the storm I was preparing myself for never materialised.

Somehow the patient who threatened the lawsuit

underwent a change of heart and decided not to sue. The

promised investigation into the supply of equipment never

got underway and the whole episode simply fizzled out.

But during this quiet period when Kent was away I began a

strange correspondence. It started out of the blue when I

received a please call me notification from someone called

Dineo. I ignored the first message because I didnt know

anyone with that name but I started getting many of these

messages, three or four every day for days on end. I

decided to put an end to the business and find out why this

person was bothering me. It was probably a

misunderstanding about the phone number, I thought to

myself, they are trying to get hold of someone with similar

digits. To my surprise the woman who answered knew myname.

Who is this and what do you want? I replied.

Its Dineo, she answered. Am I speaking to Molefe

Duiker?

How do you know me?


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They told me you are working for him now, and if I want to

tell him something I must try to get hold of you. She spoke

very slowly and softly, with an accent that told me she

wasnt comfortable expressing herself. The impression I got

was that she was a country bumpkin, intimidated by having

to speak to someone in the city.

You want to tell Kent something?

Yes, Kent. Tell him I want to know why there is no money

for so long. He will know what Im talking about.

She hung up. I immediately sent Kent a text message,

explaining that this Dineo person was calling after him and

asking for money. His reply came faster than I expected,

almost instantaneously don worry, will sort it out. He

obviously knew her, then. At least I did my part for her and

the problem had been sorted out. I assumed it would be

the last time I heard from Dineo.

nine

Things went back to normal and Kent started coming into

the office regularly again. We resumed our old sessions

with the notebook and I began to understand him and his

methods better as the weeks went by. He continued his

endless rounds of meetings, events and functions while Ibecame more proficient at planning his hectic schedule and

managing the smooth running of his diary. He even got me

involved in developing some more material for his next

round of speaking engagements. This involved reading

some of the literature that he recommended and extracting

some quotes that he could tweak and use in his talks.

It was around this time that Kent started talking to meabout his work for the church. It started off with a request


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that someone emailed, asking for funds to be donated to a

charity that went into the poorest slums and gave people

bibles. We both looked at the mail and I made a joke that

he only good that would do was if those people sold the

bible and bought some food with the money. This remark

seemed to offend Kent.

See how ignorant you are, Molly. You still think man can

live by bread alone, he said.

Im just saying, Kent. Whats the use of owning a bible if

you dont have anything to feed your children? I knew hewas an ordained pastor, but I couldnt believe he was taking

this line on the issue.

This is why you havent been blessed with success yet, he

continued. You still dont understand priorities. If you dont

get on Gods good side first, nothing will happen for you.

With God on your side, you can get away with anything. Im

living proof of that.

I nodded in agreement. I knew that it was futile to continue

the argument. Kent was by no means a tyrant, but there

were certain principles and values that he took very

seriously. I didnt agree with what he was saying, but I knew

that I was wasting my breath telling him so.

So are you going to support this campaign? I asked.

You know I always practice what I preach, he said. He

proceeded to take down the bank details from the email.

While I was still there he went onto his own banks website

and transferred a huge sum of money as a donation to the

campaign. The amount he gave them was exactly equal to

my monthly salary. I dont know if that was a co-incidence

or if he was sending a subtle message to me about my


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relative worth to him. It was a message I would never

forget.

It was during our next speaking tour that I realised how bad

Kents personal life had become, especially the situation

with Maryne. I saw less and less of her at the office and

from what I could tell his contact with her had also fallen

considerably. Eventually, one morning in the lobby of our

hotel in Durban, he confided in me that she was on a

downward spiral, and that he preferred to simply get outthe way in case she took him with her.

I dont know if its the anti-depressants, but shes become

like a zombie, he confessed.

Maybe the dose is too strong, I suggested.

No, shes been taking the same stuff for years now. But

recently shes just down - nothing I buy her is good enough,she never wants to go out, and when we are together she

sulks and watches TV all day. Thats why I dont even bother

with her anymore. Its like shes not the same person.

I think you just need to spoil her a bit when you get back.

I dont know. I need to decide if its worth the effort.

His social engagements while we were on the speaking tourwere as frequent as ever. Once again, I fell into the routine

of finding places and people to amuse myself with in the

evenings. I even began to build my own network of friends

and acquaintance in the different towns we toured. They

were mostly people like me: hangers on, spokesmen and

assistants to the VIPs who hosted, or who graced the stage

on the business and motivational speaker road-shows. Not

only were they valuable leisure companions at the end of


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the working day, they also provided much needed

intelligence on the VIPs they were meant to be looking

after.

It was on one of these outings that I began to learn some

more of the truth about Kents past. Juanita, the PA of one

the politicians on the tour, brought up the topic of Kent

Manzini by saying how she had heard that he came from a

wealthy family, and that his father was a wealthy trader in a

rural village.

Thats not what I heard, said Zam, one of the marketingand event officers for the organisers. I heard from

someone who used to do business with him that he had a

tough upbringing. He grew up in his grandmothers house

with a dozen other cousins, all living off her tiny pension.

Isnt that right Molly?

Your guess is as good as mine, I replied. My response

brought about laughter and expressions of shock from therest of the company.

You mean to tell me that even you, who practically lives

with him, havent penetrated the secrets of the mysterious

Mr Manzini? Zam asked.

When it comes to business matters and his general

philosophy of life, I know his views quite well. But I dont

pry into his social life.

Pity, because I heard its quite a raucous social life he

leads, added Juanita.

Really? From what I see the guy is always working, I

protested.

Yes, but when you are Kent Manzini, the line between

business and pleasure is a very thin one, said Zam.


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I tried to push them for more details, but they clammed up

out of fear of saying too much and inadvertently revealing

their sources. They seemed genuinely surprised that I

couldnt dish any dirt on Kent. At first they thought I was

just being guarded but they knew me well enough to realise

that I was also in the dark about his personal exploits.

The next afternoon Kent asked me to accompany him to the

harbour after his talk. He said he wanted to show me some

of the concrete examples I always asked him about. We

drove the shipyards where we met a harbour official who

was expecting us. We were taken to one of the loading bays

where the cargo from a huge ship was being offloaded.

They had already opened one of the containers for us to

inspect. When he saw all the merchandise Kents mood

became bubbly and childlike. He had a huge smile on his

face and could barely contain his energy.

You see Molly, when I say something its not just empty

words. Let me show you how I turn ideas into money, he

led me towards the open container. He approached one of

the boxes and began taking off the packaging.

Remember that conversation with Gautam, my business

partner? he asked.

The one about AIDS and crime and how vain people are?

No, the one about how death sells in our country. I wasnt

just making conversation with the two of you. On the way

back to the hotel I sealed this deal with Gautam. He sends

us these from his factories in India where they cost next to

nothing to make, and we supply them here, where there is

always a need for them. And thanks to the exchange rate,

we make a healthy profit! he said with a gleam in his eye.

He held up the first sample. It looked like a piece of canvasshaped like a sleeping bag. On closer inspection, when I felt


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it, it was slimmer, unpadded and made of a very thin plastic

material. It had the Manzihealth logo printed at the top and

the bottom, and a zip around the edges.

You see, this is how you turn death from a negative to a

positive, Molly. If we want to prosper we have to exploit all

our resources. And the Lord knows that dead bodies are a

resource we have in abundance here. These body bags are

going to revolutionise our business. Ive already got the

contract to supply them to the public hospitals and

morgues in four different provinces. And when other

hospitals notice how cheap we are, theyll come on board

too. What you are looking at here is the next instalment in

my fortune.

For some reason I couldnt share his enthusiasm.

The Mentor Part1

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