“Construct a road to increase our connection with Pietermaritzburg. For the stone required, source them locally. I don’t care if it is obtained from a Boer or a native,” Jan explained, signing some documents before handing them over to a bureaucrat.
“Right on it,” The bureaucrat remarked before heading off with the document in hand.
If they were in Europe, it would be cold, and snow would be falling from the skies. But winter in Elfrica? Winter does not exist, it is constantly hot and sunny, except for the occasional rains that fall. It made the land a perfect place for farmers, they can farm all year round, switching crops to deal with the constantly changing market prices. Even more so, the Boers couldn’t close themselves off from the natives.
The natives outnumber them by the thousands. Thus, they cannot afford to close themselves off, and not interact with them because they are savages. Jan looked out of the window. The fence that divided both towns, was covered with graffiti and posters. He wanted to bring down the fence, but it needed to be gone in a gradual process. Even if it was down, the Boers won’t acknowledge the Zulus, and segregation will commence.
From Jan’s memory of the photos, he saw of South Africa during the Apartheid era, he could feel things going that way. Seats would be divided in half, one for whites, and the other for the rest of them. Whether they are coloured, black or whatever racial classification cooked up by the administration in the capital, Pretoria. That being said, wasn’t Pretoria named after Andries Pretorius? He wondered how the real Andries Pretorius would feel knowing that his name was tainted with such a legacy.
So, things had to be done gradually. Most important of all were the trade restrictions. He was sure many other Boers were circumventing it. The restrictions were just in place to appease the rural farmers. But surely such restrictions could be loosened to allow trade to increase, and finally for the restrictions to be gone. Then he could begin integrating the Zulus.
There were many useful things farmers needed. Wood. Wood can be easily and cheaply harvested by Zulus due to its large workforce. And that wood is needed for fires to cook food, replace tools and maintain them. Or perhaps seeds, but he would have to spend a lot of effort to convince Boers that Zulu seeds could suffice compared to the exorbitant prices sold by foreign merchants.
Port Mpande lacked a local wood harvesting industry, so no one would complain if he loosened it to allow a cheap supply of wood. Perhaps those Boers who cut down trees ad hoc would grumble, but he doubted they would stage another revolt like last time.
He arranged a meeting with Nokuthula, who came dressed in Western wear. It seems she was ready to discuss reconciliation, as she wore a simple shirt with jeans.
“Not going to wear your tribal wear?” Jan asked.
She shrugged, “It’s rather bothersome to put on all the accessories. Plus, there’s no need to politick anymore. My people were rather satisfied with the fierce display I put on. Nonetheless, they are extremely interested in trade.”
“As relayed by the bureaucrat, I will loosen the imports of a few goods so that the Boers won’t complain. These are wood, ivory, animal skin, tobacco, iron and various other goods detailed in this list,” He slid a piece of paper across the table, and Nokuthula studied it.
“What about our crops? Don’t want them?” She asked.
Jan looked at her as if she was an idiot.
“You should the farmers on my side would be displeased if we let you sell your crops here. You would slash prices by half by the end of the week, and we will have another revolt on our hands. I hope you do not wish to see bloodshed.”
She smirked.
“That’s good. And I presume you still want the fence up?”
“It’s not that I want the fence up. It’s my people who want the fence up. All Zulu merchants will be inspected through the gate.”
“You wouldn’t mind if I do the same to any Boer merchant do I?”
Jan nodded.
“How about the shipment of arms?”
“That will be put on hold temporarily. They are needed elsewhere.”
“You might think that you are being secretive about where you’re using them. But my contacts told me that you’re forming a militia from your Boers. And you’ll need a stockpile of firearms to arm them.”
“Say whatever you wish.”
Jan smiled.
“Is that all you called me over for? We could have corresponded via an envoy without the need for a face-to-face meeting,” Veldkornet Nokuthula remarked as she left the town hall. She draped herself in a hood to shield the colour of her skin and the sharpness of her ears.
“Good work, pastor. I have heard reports from my men saying that your missionaries are giving clothes to the rural farmers. You did say my name as well, right? Saying that I’ve donated some.”
“This won’t be the first time I have lied, nor the last, Dutchman.”
“Don’t say that pastor, I let you cause some chaos in the port. The various investigations made against the slave traffickers, I could have easily kicked you out for that. Your organisation might have grumbled due to the unfairness or whatnot, but they will scold you for not following the laws.”
“Don’t say that Commando. From all of your actions, you make it seem as if these slave traffickers were pests to be exterminated. It could be said I’m doing you a favour by making their life difficult.”
“Aye, I hope that the expansion of the local Church goes well. I notice all the new elves that joined the church, I hope they have no relationship to the traffickers. I sure do, pastor.”
Jan grinned, and the pastor smirked at the same time. New initiated elven missionaries were cleaning the room. One came over and served them two cups of water.
“You’re Dutch Calvinist Commando, this is an Anglican Church, it could be said that this venue is not suitable for you. How about converting? I could give a free baptism.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Jan shook his head.
“You want me to lose my job, don’t you pastor? I can assure you, once I’m gone, you will be immediately kicked out by my successor. Sarel Cilliers ain’t too pleased with your presence. That man is temporarily living in the Port, leading the construction of the local Dutch Protestant Church. I hope you will be able to get along. Because if you can’t, I will have no choice but to kick you out.”
“More charity is good. I’ll be able to also focus on the charity of the elves. Do you know what your faith believes? Your faith believes that these elves could never be Christian, and thus you cannot be equals. Your faith is absurd. For I believe that the elves can be Christian, and we’ll be equals once that is achieved.”
Jan nodded sagely.
“Yes, that is the faith I believe in. So what? I am Dutch, not an Englishman. Why should I bother converting to an Anglican? I think the old me, the one who went to South Elfrican College would have immediately jumped on this opportunity, becoming ever more English. But now? No.”
The Anglican pastor shook his head.
“So, what do you want to discuss? Here to cause a racket? Want to kick us out for real?”
“Of course not. I have good news and zero bad news. From now on, you do not have to only give charity to Boers. Since you like elves so much, you can focus your efforts on the natives that you love. The new Dutch church will serve that role. It was weird to have an Anglican church service with the Dutch, now that can be remedied.”
“Finally…” The pastor mumbled.
“Now then, would you mind if I implement a tax on all of your donations, it will come to help the town in a long way…”
“Get out.”
Day one of the loosened trade restrictions being enacted. The gates were opened and the local police force for the Boers had a new job to ensure items not allowed to be traded were brought in from the Zulu side. All those who violated this order were fined.
With that in place, Jan rehired the Zulu bureaucrats so they could facilitate smooth access for Zulu merchants, removing the language barrier in place.
One of them accompanied him, explaining what her other co-workers were saying as they looked over the various Zulu merchants' belongings.
“I’m sorry, sir. But maize is part of the restricted food items. It is fine to bring one or two. But you brought a whole shipment. Isn’t it obvious you’re trying to sell them here? Haven’t they briefed you before coming here?” The bureaucrat asked, as the merchant blanked out and stared at her.
She sighed.
“Then, I’m very sorry, sir. You will be fined accordingly. But the shipment of maize will be brought back to the other side. Any damages with the shipment will be compensated accordingly, so you do not have to worry about any mishandling of your goods,” The bureaucrat barked out orders to an officer, who wrote up a ticket and slapped it on the wagon of maize.
Calling some more officers over, they hauled that over to the Zulu border, where Zulu warriors carted it to a small hut where such goods were stored at.
“You will have to pay the fine or you will never be allowed entry. Next!” The Zulu bellowed as the merchant scampered along, trying to recoup his loss to pay the fine.
“it seems things are going well. I will be more worried if there is a lack of merchants coming in. I would think there would be something wrong,”
“Well sir, a fair number of Boers are heading into the Zulu district as well. It must be due to the acceptance of British currency on the other side of town. We have traded in shillings and pence, but there are still some holdouts who have not gotten used to the currency. So they still trade in cattle.”
“Well, I don’t think it will be a problem. I feel that some of the merchants are going there to exclusively obtain more cattle, which is popular among their rural clientele. Still, got any suggestions to encourage the Zulus to use more sterlings?”
“Well…” The bureaucrat’s eyes shifted to the left and right, before saying,” I don’t think I have the authority to say something like this. Perhaps you should ask Chief Nokuthula, but I believe that as long as trade increases over time. My people are more likely to use British currency more and more often. I’m sure they can agree that paying someone with cattle is harder than with a couple of metal coins.”
A few grumbles could be heard about the various Zulus entering the Boer side of town. But they were mostly by drunk men, disliking how the Zulus quickly outcompeted them in various industries due to the influx of Zulu goods.
“My wood. It’s gone. My side hustle is all burned to dust thanks to those Zulus! We should kick them out!” The Boer grumbled loudly.
“Shut the fuck up! Your wood was fucking expensive! Like you charged absurd prices for it, fuck, you were asking for our liver!”
“Well, you could have chopped it down yourself asshole! Don’t like it, don’t buy it!”
“Well, my family and I chopped our wood instead. And from now on, we’re going to buy them from the Zulus!”
The Boers began yelling at one another. But the small number of dissenters never found the same support as they once did about food prices, so they were quickly squashed by the silent majority who were extremely pleased with the lowered prices of goods.
The landowners were most pleased as they were now able to obtain a cheap source of luxury goods through the Zulu ivory and animal skins. Most prized of all was the leopard skin, which they began wearing out in the streets, showing their status amongst the poor farmers and the middle classes. The urban dwellers, seeing how the rich differentiated themselves from the rest of them with Zulu luxuries, began buying up Zulu luxuries as well. A fashion trend began, as prices of Zulu luxuries rose day after day.
The Zulu merchants sensed an opportunity, and began procuring more luxury goods, and kept sending them to the Boer market, who immediately ate them up on arrival.
“This is a bubble waiting to pop!” Russell remarked, don in a sash of cheetah.
Jan’s eyes raised as he looked at Russell who bought into the trend.
“You don’t understand! None of the urbanites would take me seriously if I don’t have this on! All the men and women pay more attention to me!”
“Are you sure that is the case? It’s not for vanity or anything like that right? You’re not one of those fools who buy into a bubble right?”
Russell kept silent.
“So what do we do? Do nothing? I don’t think this bubble would cause wide-reaching effects. The damage would be rather limited amongst the middle classes and upper classes. I don’t think much unrest would be created also. Most of them would be blaming themselves for their stupidity in buying into such a bubble in the first place.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I have heard tales of rural farmers buying ivory and animal skins for investments since they see the price going up every day. They have even begun hoarding these various goods. If this bubble bursts, all strata of society will be affected once the price crashes. Hundreds of Boer savings will be wiped out.”
“Fuck! People are really stupid! How can they fall for a bubble? Every FUCKING SINGLE TIME!”
“What do you mean by that Jan? This is the first-ever bubble?”
Jan shook his head.
“Probably the first for us. But in history, many such incidents happened. Tulip fever in the Netherlands and the South Sea Bubble in England are some examples.”
“And just like in history, there is no way to remedy the situation. The bubble will burst eventually. All we can do is try to limit the fallout, or somehow jack up the intrinsic value of such goods?”
“Or… we can find someone else to take the brunt of the bubble for us. Name me some countries where ivory and animal skins would be popular in?”
“Europe? Elfrica has some strange wildlife which would seem bizarre to most Europeans. I believe the aristocrats and capitalists might be interested in owning such goods.”
“Exactly, we will create an export route with some merchants and dump these goods and their inflated prices into Europe. So, when the bubble bursts in the town, the damage would be limited. Go and find a European merchant who is interested in these goods. I’m sure there are plenty who see the daily rising prices with greed and one of them will be stupid enough to buy in. Have them buy most of the stocks, and limit the fallout for these merchants to swallow.”
Russell nodded.
“I will discuss with the Zulu and European merchants respectively. We’ll let them trade with one another directly so that Boers won’t be eating too much of a loss. They will still eat a loss though, so prepare for the unrest that will follow once the bubble bursts.”
As Jan predicted, the demand for Zulu ivory and animal skins suddenly dropped as the wealthy chose to pursue other goods to stand out amongst the riffraff that also procured Zulu ivory and animal skins. In the following days, the prize sharply declined. By the end of the week, the market was filled with a glut of luxuries caused by Boers dumping these goods all at once, hoping to recoup some value before the price drops even more. Damage was limited so most of such goods were bought away by foreign merchants, so few Boers were caught in the aftermath.
And with that, ends the first ever Zulu Luxury Bubble caused by the sudden loosening of trade restrictions.