Chapter seventeen

Karis Ilobi hated his father's house parties. They were pretentious, but more pretentious were his charity balls were he dressed in his finest and tipped all the press that was present, so that they only published photos of him that had been taken from a good angle, the cameras clicking away while he gave some silly speech about having a deep love for humanity and the burden of the poor being his burden too.

And the end of such charity balls, he sat down with his father to count the achievements of the day which had nothing to do with the number of lives they had been able to touch, the success of the ball had only to do with the number of dignitaries that had been in attendance - more support for his father's re-election his father had told him once, and when he had accused him of being a hypocrite, he had snapped. The poor did get the help they needed from his charity balls, who cared about the content of his heart he had said.

Karis cared. He cared that his father and his father's