The Institution (3 of 3): The Manager

The secretary opened the door, exposing a poorly lit room and a man sitting on a huge chair in the corner of it.

The man looked as old as death, and as grave as death.

In front of him was a desk with a small TV set on it, a large notebook, and lots of bottles that seemed to contain medicine.

He held a pen in his hand, and a remote control in the other.

I slowly approached, uncertain how to act. I coughed nervously but he still wouldn't look at me.

He spoke first, his eyes fixed on the TV.

"You never stop complaining"

I glanced at the TV, uncertain if he was talking to me or to the screen.

On the TV was a talk show, the guest was a journalist of some renown, and he was going on about how our Institution needed reform. How the system needed to be redesigned, how its role needed to be revised, and how its leadership needed to change.

"You complain a lot, too"

I quickly turned my gaze to find him looking at me now, frowning heavily and beneath his frown the whites of his eyes shown grayed & bloodshot.I couldn't tell if it was menace behind that frown, or merely an attempt to focus and see through old age and sickness.

"Now what do you want?"

I held out my forms hesitantly. He waved them away and went on talking.

"What do you all want? They keep asking for reform. Reform reform reform! What is there to be reformed?! We've pioneered the reformation of this place, nobody cared for reformation more than us, and now after all these years they want us to step aside to take our place!"

"We know who's behind them, we know each one by name. We know who pays the papers to print the rubbish they write about us and we know who pays thugs to try and kill us and we know who plots to take our place." His face was turning red and his voice was getting louder. "Well nobody's going to take our place! Tell them, tell those who sent you... tell them they'll die before we do! Tell them they better pray to God to have mercy on their souls... they better pray to Him for mercy, for we will not show them any!"

His voice shook with rage until it broke down, and he stopped to catch his breath. When he started talking again he talked slowly and the anger was replaced with an infinite heaviness.

"We wanted reformation, too.

When we came this place was a disgrace, corrupt managers and ignorant employees.

We wanted a revival. We wanted new blood in the Institution. We wanted change.

All of us were intellectuals, writers, journalists and politicians.

We were patriots and poets.

We were young, influential and resourceful.

And we changed this Institution. Back when we first came to this place, we did exactly what they would've done.

And this is where it all got us. Everything was hostile to our presence.

We made thousands, even millions of enemies.

Now so many want us dead. Some try to kill us, while others just sit and wait for time to do the job."

The secretary was standing beside me, and he quickly added: "We stifle all attempts to harm his excellency before they reach him, of course. God preserve his excellency, we would be lost without him. May he keep leading us to safety till the end of days"

I watched the manager as he nodded approvingly to this.

Finally, I started speaking to him, uttering the last words he was ever going to hear from me.

I can't believe you. You sit here and you drink in your assistant's flattery and you talk as if you've made this place heaven on earth while the building crumbles around you.

You say you were an intellectual, a writer and a patriot, but all I see is a scared old man cowering in a dark room afraid of the light.

How did you get from there to here? It matters a lot but you won't pay attention to it.

You're not free anymore, and you've chained many to you and infected them with your fears and ailments.

I no longer want anything from you nor your institution.

Here are my forms and papers, my proofs of ownership of this Institution, the company of my father before you sold it to the government as if you owned the place.

But I'll leave it to you. I might have grown up here, but I know it's not the only place I have, and I don't want to work here anymore.

I've joined this place as an employee, tried to repair it from the inside out and from the bottom up like they say, but I would only do what you authorize me to do, and that was never enough to change anything.

And you know what? I never wanted you replaced,

but in case you haven't noticed, you've already been replaced by a far worse version of you.

I never wanted you dead either,

but you haven't been alive for decades.

And with that I turned around and walked out of my father's company, no longer ours, and I went and worked elsewhere, for we had many places.

I still go to that old building, but never as an owner nor an employee, merely a visitor.

I talk to the young recruits and sometimes to the older ones and try to see if any have life in them.

But I never go up to the top floor.

I have no business there.

The Institution (2 of 3): The Secretary

I looked around the hall, I saw a door leading to what must be another office, but the door was closed.
Outside was a large desk, and a man sat behind it talking on the phone in a low voice.

I came closer to his desk, he didn't look up. I'd have thought he didn't notice me, had his voice not turned to a whisper as I approached.
He quickly ended the call and looked up, his face had a concrete look but his eyes shone behind it. I found myself asking him to let me into that office.

He seemed to look through me, and with a flat tone informed me that the general manager is not feeling very well, and he would rather not see anybody.

I insisted, citing something about the right to meet the head of the establishment for which I work.

He looked through me again, and I realized he was looking at something behind me, and then he raised his voice and said that I shouldn't think he doesn't know who I am and why I'm here, how he is aware of everything happening within the walls of the institution and outside it, and then he seemed to focus his gaze on me again and told me to leave now or he'll take disciplinary action.

I looked behind me, and that's when I saw there were tiny cameras hung from the corners of the hall.

In a sudden spark of inspiration, I slowly spoke about how I can write to the papers and tell them how the secretary of the institution on which all eyes are set was terrorizing its employees, how he prevented anyone from seeing the manager and assumed his responsibilities already, I spoke even more slowly and deliberately, stressing the words as I added that he acted as if the manager was already dead.

His face finally broke into anger and he yelled at me. I was fired and must leave now or he'd have me thrown outside, I shook a little but held my ground and told him that nobody will be able to force me out of there.

Then a speaker buzzed on his desk and a tired, crackly voice told him to let me in.

The secretary answered yes certainly your excellence you are too lenient we are coming in a minute. He wiped all expression from his face again and in a voice that barely betrayed his rage told me to follow him.

(to be continued)

The Institution (1 of 3) - The Official

Days and weeks passed, and sometimes I doubt they were months and years, me roaming the corridors of that age-old governmental institution, with its walls looking dirty and their green-tinged wallpaper bloated and falling apart.
And that smell, faint and insignificant at first, but the more you stay inside that place the more prominent the smell becomes, but you pretend it's not there and go on trying to conclude your business in this place, if you can still remember what it is.

I walk into yet another room, pale fluorescent light reflecting on the piles of paper on an old man's desk. I approach him with my queries but not without a hint of hesitation, he looks kind, but he looks at my ID first like they all do. Instructions from higher up, no doubt. Afterwards he begins to look at the forms I've filled, looks up to me, and gives me the same answer all the other officials gave me.

I patiently nod and then tell him that I'm afraid that's not good enough, I understand that you have your rules and your laws be they written or otherwise but to me they fail to make sense and to be completely honest with you I don't know how they make sense to you and I don't know how you can think they work while your own desk littered with paperwork and denied requests and unanswered queries proves they don't and why don't you care about that?

He looks slightly annoyed and shakes his head, I'm afraid I can't help you, feel free to take your queries to somebody else. Then he hands me back my forms and papers and tells me not to forget my ID.

I walk out thinking that he didn't seem about to call his colleagues to warn them that a "troublemaker" is on his way to them like others have, he looked kind.

I see some dirty steps leading to the next floor of this labyrinth, I sigh as I walk up the steps.
I arrive at another small hall with corridors lined with more offices, but I turn around and decide to keep going up the steps.
And so I do until there are no more steps to walk up, and I find a slightly bigger hall in front of me.
I think this is it, if I don't get everything sorted out here, I never will.

(to be continued)