The South African Virus Conspiracy

By Dr. Richard Clement

About the Book
Africa. Apartheid. Thierry, a young French doctor, besides delivering many babies, experiences many dangers ranging from a charging hippopotamus during a walking safari and threats from jealous husbands of unfaithful expatriate wives.
In the Ndola Hospital (Zambia), Thierry soon discovers that a group of South African scientists are developing a vaccine targeted at selectively reducing the Black population in the name of ‘White Africa’.
Will Thierry share in their goal and succumb to the financial gains or will he attempt to sabotage their project?
The amazing journey undertaken in this book will allow you, the reader, to discover the outcome.

About the Author
Dr. Richard Clement, a French medical doctor continues to be deeply curious about life and different cultures. His passion for travel has covered many miles with many smiles and has now visited 82 countries.
Realizing that life’s journey can be many things, whether it is tragedy or comedy he is happy to share with you, the reader.
Recognizing that racism has no colour, he proceeds to demonstrate this in this semi fictional account of a young French doctor suddenly confronted with African life in Eastern Africa during Apartheid.
Richard is also the author of Latin Fiancé Visa.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dorrance Publishing Company
• Release date: Jun 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9798888125212

Book preview

Layout_1_Page_1.eps

The contents of this work, including, but not limited to, the accuracy of events, people, and places depicted; opinions expressed; permission to use previously published materials included; and any advice given or actions advocated are solely the responsibility of the author, who assumes all liability for said work and indemnifies the publisher against any claims stemming from publication of the work.

All Rights Reserved

Copyright © 2023 by Dr. Richard Clement

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted, downloaded, distributed, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, including photocopying and recording, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented without permission in writing from the publisher.

Dorrance Publishing Co

585 Alpha Drive

Pittsburgh, PA 15238

Visit our website at www.dorrancebookstore.com

ISBN: 979-8-88812-021-7

eISBN: 979-8-88812-521-2

Dedication

To my fellow Expatriate of Zambia, to my patients and colleagues from Africa in the late nineteen-seventies.

To the blacks who have suffered from colonialism and from Tribal genocide.

To the whites from Zimbabwe and other places in Africa who have been chased from their birthplace.

To the zebras who do not know if they are white or black.

Acknowledgments

This book is part life experience and part fiction.

Dr. Richard Clement believes in the importance of vaccination. He also realizes that medicine, drug, and vaccine developments are not free from commercial and political interests and influence.

Introduction

The story takes place in Ndola Hospital (Zambia) in the late 1970s.

Thierry the doctor is delivering many babies and experiencing many dangers from jealous husbands of unfaithful expatriate wives to charging hippopotamus during a safari.

Doctor Thierry will soon discover that a group of South African scientists are developing a vaccine in one of the wards of the hospital. This vaccine has a virus triggered at selectively killing the black population in the name of White Africa.

Will Thierry be able to abort their project, will he be a victim of theirs, will he share their goal?

The unexpected and amazing journey you are taken on in this book will allow you, the reader, to discover the outcome.

Preface

The monkeys high on ketamine and amphetamine were running all over the African hospital of Ndola, entering delivery rooms and operating rooms, disturbing nurses, doctors and patients.

A male chimpanzee baring his teeth entered the operating theatre and jumped on the sedated patient.

Dr. Desai was performing a hysterectomy when the monkey jumped on the patient and buried his teeth in the surgical opening.

He took a bite of the patient’s internal organs as the surgeon fought him off with his scalpel and retractors.

The nurses were screaming, and the anesthetist was trying to shoot the monkey with a tranquilizing agent.

Some of the other monkeys went into the baby ward, climbing on the incubators. A female chimpanzee tried to kidnap a newborn; immediately the midwives and the nurses fought hard to get the baby back, screaming at and kicking the monkey.

In the pharmacy, the monkeys were robbing and swallowing medications like they were candy.

Security guards and doctors’ nurses had an epic fight as some of the monkeys escaped in the street in doctors’ outfits and some with mouths full of blood.

The police and the Army were already in the streets dispatching tear gas and using fireman water hoses, which they turned onto the monkeys, as well as shooting them with their Chinese rifles; some chimpanzees were biting the policemen, tearing away body parts; it was bloody chaos.

It all started in Paris seven years ago.

Chapter 1

The French Doctor in Paris

Seven years before that incident herds of screaming students high on socialism and anarchism were taking over the streets of the Latin quarter in Paris, some wore bandanas on their face or displayed angry riot faces.

From Rue Moufetard to the limit of the Luxembourg Garden demonstrations were taking place.

The students were screaming, CRS SS, CRS, SS, CRS SS! (CRS: anti-riot police force)

Police in riot gear positioned themselves following orders from the Préfet de police and the president, Charles de Gaulle, who secretly fled France to Germany (his previous enemy). Escaping the songs, imaginative graffiti, posters, and slogans and threat of the rioters.

The unrest began with a series of far-left student protests against capitalism, consumerism, American imperialism and traditional institutions.

Heavy police repression and violence were condemned by the trade-union leaders resulting in a nationwide strike. 

The paved road was dismantled, and the stones were used to build barricades and later on to be thrown at the police.

There was a mix of revolution and friendly fiestas. From the apartments overlooking the street, free food was being given to the students. The ambiance was festive until the police started to throw tear gases.

Some policemen in plain clothes burned cars and threw Molotov cocktails to create more chaos and less sympathy for the rioters.

Thierry and Georges’ friends from high school were on top of one of the barricades having a casual conversation regarding their future studies. The smoke was heavy, and their eyes burned from the tear gases.

Thierry, what university have you selected?

A stone thrown by a policeman hit the student next to Georges in the face, halting their exchange. The student fell down from the barricade, his face oozing blood and his scream alerting the Red Cross crew, who rushed toward him to provide assistance while the police tried to dismantle the barricade without much success.

The student defense was fierce and fearless.

Georges, let’s move, you do not want to lose an eye or a hand.

Looking at the work of the first aid, Thierry said, I think I will study medicine, what about you?

I will go on vacations, replied Georges and thought it over. There is white sand under the pavement; it makes me dream of the Caribbean.

Sous les pavés la plage.

The riots were increasing in violence and Georges and Thierry ran away from the tear gas fumes burning their eyes and throat and from the flying objects.

When they reached the boulevard, St. Michel, three cops in plain clothes grabbed them.

Police, do not try to escape, follow us!

They complied, smart enough to avoid physical violence from their baton. They reached a side street under escort where a police bus was waiting for them. They were pushed inside with force and searched for weapons. There was already a lot of rioters and innocent bystanders in the bus, some of them shouting, CRS SS, CRS SS! (The CRS was created on 8 December 1944. The CRS is a civilian corps, military trained in anti-insurrection and anti-riot techniques). Some of the students were angry and defiant.

Others were crying and trembling with fear. The bus took them to a police facility, where they were parked in a courtyard.

Feels like we are chimpanzee in cages, said Thierry.

Yes, my father will be upset. I need to explain why I did not come home, replied Georges.

If we ever come out alive, replied Thierry, who was overheard by frightened students.

The place was the size of a basketball field and surrounded by guards on an elevated pass way.

Some students started to take apart a wooden structure, some others were shooting paper bullets with homemade slings at the prison guards. The rioters started a fire from the broken wood structure and panic took place among the detainees and the guards as the fire expanded to the surrounding structure, the smoke was heavy. Fortunately, the gate opened, and the students started to be processed by the coughing guards, some of the wardens with fire extinguishers. In a small room without windows, threatening guards started their work. A picture was taken, face and profile, digital prints, and they were searched one more time and questioned.

A tall policeman named Jean Durand with a large moustache reviewed Thierry’s data and interviewed him.

Seems you have been caught rioting; your case is bad, my son.

No, sir, I was just watching, I live close by.

Are you a terrorist?

No, sir.

Are you a Marxist?

No, sir.

Are you a Trotskyist?

No, sir.

Are you a Leninist?

No, sir.

Do you love Mao?

No, sir.

Do you love Che Guevara?

No, sir.

Did you throw stones?

No, sir. My friend Violence drives people from your cause, true revolution is nonviolent.

You live in Montparnasse, your parents are probably bourgeois that you criticize, you have a roof, you eat, you study. Why are you trying to destroy a society that gives you so much?

I was not destroying anything, I was just watching.

Maybe you should watch your studies.

Yes, sir, I will.

In many other societies rioters are shot dead or disappear without trace.

Do you believe we are really the evil forces of repression, maybe we are the one protecting your bourgeois life, you follow the crowd like an animal.

Thierry did not like authority, but it was not the time to argue.

What do you study, son?

I just graduated. I will study medicine.

Good, I let you go. Do not act like a screaming monkey following other monkeys. Study, my son, for the sake of your country, education is the only way. A country who does not know how to read and write is easy to deceive, be a proud, hardworking, law-abiding citizen of France. This is not Cuba, this is not China, this is not Russia, this is the country of lights, be proud of it. And remember, you must refrain from ungrateful questioning of governmental mandates, instead you must dedicate yourself to study, work and military service. The very spirit of rebellion is reprehensible.

Thierry was free. He walked toward the exit. Many students were also walking toward the exit with an overwhelming sensation of relief. Parents and friends were gathering at the gate with faces of concern. Georges was on the side talking to worried parents describing their children’s situation, the parents were frightened of their whereabouts.

Did you see my son Samuel? He is tall with glasses.

No, sorry, replied Georges.

Another parent asked, My daughter Catherine, she is sixteen, blonde with blue eyes?

No, sorry.

Hi, Georges, all okay? asked Thierry.

Yes, I am not afraid of them but afraid of my father’s reaction, he is an ex-Army guy so I will have to explain where I was, will not be easy.

How was it for you?

Not bad. The interviewer was a paternalistic cop with a Groucho Marx moustache who asked me if I was Marxist, he quoted three times Che Guevara. No idea if it was on purpose.

Five Years after the French Riots

September 1st, 1973 - that day meant a lot to Thierry Monet since that was the day he would get the coveted Dr. prefix before his name. He remembered the first time he was officially called a doctor by the lady announcing the names of the graduates. Thierry was finishing medical school in Paris and would be starting his internship and residency in the upcoming months.

He had intentionally planned it that way so he could take time out with friends without worrying about when the next assignment was due, or if he was up to date on his notes, or if he had miss class the next day because he overslept.

Though Thierry wasn’t the sort of person to look back in life, he couldn’t help but reminisce about the old days. He remembered his first day in university with crystal clarity. He joined university right after graduating at the top of his class in high school. He also remembered how panicked he felt when he realized how tough the degree was. He had always been the happy-go-lucky sort, and since he was rather smart, the initial years of his education were a breeze. This basically meant that he spent his younger years free from the stress of studies and enjoying his time the best way he could: making friends and playing sports as he had always been a sportsman. His attitude changed almost instantly when he started studying to become a doctor—something he had   always aspired to be. It was this drive that gave him the motivation to study and graduate med school. Medical school was hard, internships were more exciting as it wasworking with patients.

Thierry was pulled away from his thoughts when he heard someone calling out his name. He turned around to see his fellow graduates beckoning him to join them in the group picture. He gestured at them to wait as he quickly wiped away the tears.

Thierry, over here! Odile, an attractive brunette with olive skin and green eyes, called him, gesturing at the empty spot next to her in the middle of the group.

Once the photographer gave them the thumbs up, Odile discreetly intertwined her fingers with Thierry’s, attempting to pull him away from the crowd. He smiled, knowing what was about to happen, but luck seemed against him. Just as they were about to slip away from the crowd, the couple ran into Professor Julien Arnaud—a distinguished surgeon who now preferred teaching to operating. Thierry had learned a long time ago that if he wanted to progress in life, he needed to make good with the right people, and Professor Arnaud was definitely the right person.

Professor, it’s so good to see you, Thierry said, smiling ear-to-ear as Odile relinquished her hand from his and went to join her friends.

It’s good to see you too, Thierry! The Professor, a white-haired gentleman with a beard and rounded glasses, the knowing glint in his eye all too obvious. And stop it with all that ‘Professor’ business. You’ve graduated now. You can call me ‘Colleague,’ he said, with a dead-serious expression.

Thierry stared at his professor for a second before both of them broke out in laughter.

I have a great opportunity for you, Thierry, the Professor said, leaning in and lowering his voice. You might not know this since I tend to keep it quiet, but I choose one student from the passing-out batch to give them a little push at the start of their career. This time, I’ve chosen you.

Thierry gaped open-mouthed at the Professor. He was about to dive into a torrent of words, all of which expressed his gratitude, but his professor frowned, holding up his hand before he could even start.

I don’t care for your gratitude, my boy, but I do care you understand the reason I chose you, the Professor said, locking eyes with him. My selection is not based on the talent of my students, although talent does factor in, but their heart. These past years we’ve known each other, I’ve come to the conclusion that you care more about helping people than you do about how much you make doing it. Your priority isn’t reputation, money, nor fame—although they do factor in. And, my boy, that’s why we’re becoming doctors. The Hippocratic Oath was instated for this very reason.

The Professor laid his arm on Thierry’s shoulder, locking eyes with him to drive his point home. Thierry nodded seriously.

Thank you, Professor, he said, despite the Professor’s proclamation that he didn’t care for his gratitude. Although, I do have one question.

Ask away, my dear.

Why leave the hospitals when you care more about saving people’s lives than you do about money, reputation, or fame? Thierry asked unashamedly.

The Professor stared into Thierry’s eyes for a full ten seconds before throwing his head back and letting out a booming laugh.

Oh, you’ve got some guts, Thierry! he said, clapping him on the back. Most people won’t question the character of the person who is about to hand them their internship on a silver platter.

Thierry smiled, still waiting for the answer.

"So, I can make sure that the next generation of doctors learn their priorities and choose the right path when the situation calls for it. Maybe