Zafaraniya is a Country of the Future
I landed in Zahrān Airport with a head full of questions about the Kingdom of Zafaraniya. Was it the cruel and backwards dictatorship I had been told it was?
Anything but. One look around the arrivals hall in Zahrān Airport paints a vivid portrait of a country on the rise. Here are bustling cafés, glistening fountains, and shops full of the latest designer brands.
As a Westerner, I was shocked. Where were homeless people and drug addicts you find in American and European airports?
A young man named Khalfan welcomed me to Zafaraniya. For a humble tour guide, he was very talented. He knew everywhere and he knew everyone. Somehow, he even knew a lot about me. What a hospitable culture!
On the taxi ride to central Zahrān, we saw the gleaming tower blocks and hotels that are being erected throughout the city.
“Look,” said Khalfan, pointing at one enormous glass structure, “That hotel has a pool in the lift.”
Welcome to the future.
Is Zafaraniya backwards? Tell that to the manager of the Royal Zahrān Hotel. I’ve never stayed in such clean and lavish accommodation. One towel even had “Welcome, Mr Sixsmith” stitched into it.
Concerns about Islamic radicalism might have made sense in the 1990s — but now? The breakfast buffet had bacon and sausages. I’d never heard such good music in a lift. As for women’s rights, well — the women looked happy enough to me. And I don’t think even my ex-wife would claim that I can’t read women’s emotions.
Of course, I hadn’t visited Zafaraniya on holiday. I was there to put tough questions to its leading politicians. As one of Britain’s finest journalists, I wasn’t going to be blinded by special treatment. I’m a pro, for God’s sake."
“I hear you’re one of Britain’s finest journalists,” said Sheikh Hamad bin Zayed Al-Zafarani, Crown Prince of Zafaraniya, “A real pro.”
“Oh, well, I — er — you know … ”
Calm down Sixsmith. I hoped I wasn’t blushing.
“What do you say to Westerners who have concerns about, er, about rumours of human rights abuses in Zafaraniya?” I asked.
“Of course, we aren’t perfect,” said Sheikh Hamad, with his typical modesty, “But is anyone? What about Guantanamo Bay?”
Damn, he was good. I nodded in appreciation of a fellow genius at work.
“Your critics have argued that you’re using slave labour … That you’re harbouring terrorists …”
“Are we being too hard on people,” he shrugged, “Or too soft?”
Brilliant. Any Oxford or Cambridge alumnus, like me, could sense an Oxbridge education at work.
“Some in America and Europe think you’re an unreliable ally with your links to China and Russia,” I said.
“So, if we’re friends with other people we can’t be friends with you? Is this not what Westerners would call an, er — a toxic relationship?”
Masterful. Even my ruthless and incisive questioning had failed to pin him down.
After the interview, I was given a tour of Zahran National Stadium. It’s the home of Al-Nasr Zahran FC, which recently signed the top Man City striker Mateo “Matty” Alarcón, and has also hosted concerts from the likes of Enrique Iglesias, and comedy shows from the likes of Bill Burr. Where in the West can you watch football or hear music and comedy?
Back at the hotel, I had the chance to speak to some of the young minds of Zafaraniya. Again, I had to laugh at the stereotype of Zafaranis being backwards and illiterate. The young men and women I spoke to appeared to have read everything I had ever written! Anybody with concerns about press freedom in Zafaraniya would have been reassured to meet them. They were full of questions about how to be a brilliant and successful journalist like me.
In the night, I was awoken by a knock at the door. It was a scantily clad woman in her early twenties, with what looked like a king-sized pack of condoms in one hand and a bag of cocaine in the other.
“Oh, sorry,” I said, “You must have the wrong door.”
“Incredible,” said Khalfan, who was standing behind her in the shadows for some reason, “We don’t even have to blackmail you.”
“Excuse me,” I said firmly, “I’m a journalist. I can’t be corrupted.”
Condoms??? The radical Islamists have won if we have to use condoms!!!
In the early '90s, an older colleague at a Canadian business magazine swore that some annual junket hosted by a British institute included the perq of a night with a sex worker. (Always awarded to males, needless to say.)