My Memory Story :
Chapter III: The beach
That does now fifteen days that we arrived and today my father did himself to lend a television that works in 12 known volts the battery of the car. With a past extension has breadths them "nacos", we look at the unique program of the television gabonaise: an entitled feuilleton " The mysteries of the west" with Robert Conrad. We already had seen these episodes in France, to Montereau, but to review them there, while we pensions not more to be able to look at the small screen before months, had something magic. The next day morning, to the moment or my father leaves for the work, we warned by a big deaf noise. My father had forgotten to disconnect the sons linking up the television to the battery of his car and while backing up the vehicle irretrievable induced posts it towards the fall. We verify immediately if the Tv always works, ouf, to leaves a corner écorné and a little of paint écaillé, the tube, him, intact east. My father arrives on the places of this that could have been a drama, and with him took us of a crazy laugh on this incident sum all not very banal
My Parents want as early as the day following to find a generating set in order to have at last the electricity. Dad himself renseigne with its work colleagues and his research door its fruit. In fact a truck brings to us an old group that served even then on the work-sites. After two long hours of installation, the motor at last is put in road and big is our pleasure to have now it" electric comfort", would not be this that for the refrigerator that will not work henceforth more to the oil. This pleasure is, to the long one, lightly lessened by the auditory désagréments. In fact the noise of the motor diesel is such as we are in the obligation to stop it for the night. Fortunately that the fridge accepts this functioning in alternation.
Under the heat weighing of this month of July, dry season obliges, we decide to pass our afternoon to the sea, in company of mom and of course with M'ba-jean. For this fact, it is necessary for us to follow during a kilometer the principal street of the neighborhood Lalala that swarms with world carrying pagnes of all the colors and advancing on foot as us.
Then we take a track to pains traced (future direct road liaison between the neighborhood Lalala and the one of owendo), and this is three kilometers of very dense brousse that we cross. The path is straight and long, of reddish color under the effect of the Latérite, rock ferreuse used in the tropical regions for his good resistance to the intempéries. Accompanied by the strange noises of the brousse, we do not return counts ourselves half hour that passes and we already arrive to the beach.
...A beach almost exclusively for us for only a group of children themselves there is located already. After doing a part of ball in good wonderful water of the ocean Atlantic, we propose to the other come children to rejoin us to play corsairs. Immediately Christophe and M'ba-jean take possession of a vielle pirogue failed for some to do their vessel... The remainder of the " troop ", of which I does left, becomes then a band of warriors preventing the arrival of the settlers... After many assaults, we arrive at last to reverse the vapor and this are the come foreigners of the seas that are in the obligation to go. We finish all our adventure while squeezing us the hand and while promising us to recommence soon. As it already is five hours and that the sun goes to bed about six hours to the Gabon, we hurry to traverse the 4 kilometers that separate us house.
Chapter IV: the presidential Palace
We are now fine July, and my father decides to take me on an of its work-sites. And which work-site, certainly the one of more beautiful one, I want talk about the presidential palace of MR. BONGO. Later my father travaillera on the presidential new palaces, but there it was a matter of the one than lives the President and his family in 1975. After some road instants through the streets of Libreville, my father stops his vielle Renault 4 fourgonnette in front of an immense gate in wrought iron. After some exchanged words with soldiers of the presidential guard our car advances towards the principal building. I ébahi by an immense cage kept by an armed soldier to the teeth. With the authorization of Dad I direct myself towards this cage when my gait suddenly is stopped by an impressive rugissement. The cage contains some does an immense Lion. This Lord of the animals belongs to Mister BONGO. Passed the astonishment moment I put a question idiote that all kids would have put, in fact me leader towards the Guard, I take myself to him to request if his weapon was loaded. Evidently my question resta without response. Some minutes later, while we return in the Palace and than we were located in front of the elevator, my father relates me a well unique anecdote. In fact some days previously, while my father and its workers effectuated the installation of the equipment to start up the work-site, they utilisèrent the Presidential elevator as climbs loads. Only voila, the President Bongo arriva and needed this elevator. The latter appuya all naturally on the call button and my father, to the floor lives the elevator to leave while it totally was not unloaded. My father himself mit in anger and descendit the big stairway four to four while fuming in his beard. Which was not his surprise while falling nose to nose with the President. My father s'excusa himself for his anger and Mister Bongo take the position with a lot of humors and to show to my father that that did not put him no problem, the President décida climb by the stairway. After this narrative, I then to say that I looked at my father with a certain pride all while climbing the stairway to arrive in the special office of the President, then in its apartments. The works that the business effectuated consisted in a réfection of all the woodwork. Today again, I keep a memory without be necessary of these magic instants where I was able to visit an exceptional places. I measure how much I was privileged to be able to admire the magnificent Mister library and Madam Bongo. And nevertheless some weeks later, by an unfortunate chance and humor some times to two under of my father The Presidential family and ours again will be evoked but in circumstances totally different in fact André, my father fails to rediscover itself in prison. What has you it well been able to do, will you say me, has you it committed a crime, that nenni. To put back the évènement in the context, it is important to recall that little previously a couple working in a supérette of Libreville was thrown in prison and repatriated in France after negotiation between the two countries. An evening or the couple closed the store with the habitual punctuality, a woman vint to type to the door of the supérette while explaining that she wanted to do its races. The responsible ones of this store to explain that the store SEGADIS (I am not sure to have correctly orthographié the name) is closed and that the hour this is the hour, it is necessary to return the next day. The woman herself mit then in anger and expliqua that she finds herself to be the mother-in-law of the President Bongo and that the things did not go in to remain there. At this point in time, our couple itself mit equally in anger and said on a contemptuous tone that even if she had been the personage more important of the planet the things would have been the even. This is while this évènement are all banal one became a state matter for the Police intervened some instants later and the consequences for this couple of young French were disastrous. Which report there can be between this anecdote and the humor of my father? A day my mother décida that we would go to do our races to the big