Great Power Reclamation

Terrace of Queen's Palace, Kilimanjaro, the new capital of the East African Republic.

Ye Rou and Ye Mei stood side by side, looking down at the newly formed capital city that had transformed from blueprints into reality in just five years.

The morning light is sliding down from the snow-capped peak of Kilimanjaro, illuminating the rainforest on the mountainside, the coffee plantations at the foot of the mountain, and finally bathing the entire city in its glow.

The rooftops covered with solar panels, the glass curtain walls of the vertical farms, and the maglev track that runs through the city all shimmer with the luster of metal and glass in the morning light.

They each held a baby girl in their arms. Ye Rou's daughter was named "Xuguang," and Ye Mei's daughter was named "Chenxing," both of whom had just turned 100 days old.

At this moment, the two little ones are looking at the country they created together with their mother with their dark eyes.

“Your Majesty.” Prime Minister Yang Da approached. This newly elected politician was the first democratically elected prime minister of the East African Republic. He had previously managed the independence movements of two countries, but now he was willing to assist two young queens.

"The Cabinet has approved the final version of the 'Five-Year Plan for New Energy and Food Security.' But there are still some voices in Parliament."

"What kind of sound is that?" Ye Rou didn't turn around; her gaze remained fixed on the giant energy storage power station under construction on the edge of the city.

“The parliamentarians are mainly from the former Tanzanian region,” Kalond said, carefully choosing his words. “They believe the plan is too biased towards the industrial base of the former Kenyan region and are worried about uneven distribution of resources after the merger.”

Ye Mei turned around at this moment. Unlike her sister's gentle yet resolute demeanor, her eyes were sharper, and her words were more direct:

"Five years ago, when the people of five countries voted in a referendum with 78% support to merge into the East African Republic, they did not vote to perpetuate old regional divisions."

She paused, her voice clear and firm: "They voted for a promise—a promise that everyone on this land will have access to cheap electricity, quality education, efficient healthcare, and most importantly: a future no longer divided by colonial heritage."

The terrace was quiet for a moment, with only the faint sounds of machinery from the construction site in the distance.

“Tell those councilors,” Ye Rou finally spoke, her voice softer than her sister’s, yet equally authoritative:
"Next Monday, Queen Ye Mei and I will personally travel to Dar es Salaam, the largest city in the former Tanzanian region, to lay the foundation stone for an integrated desalination and photovoltaic project. The project has a total investment of US$30 billion and will solve the drinking water and electricity problems for three million people along the coast once completed."

Yang's eyes lit up: "This would be a very good political signal."

“This is not a political signal,” Ye Rou corrected him, then gently stroked her daughter Xu Guang’s cheek. “This is the fulfillment of a promise. Five years ago, we promised the people that the merger was not to create a new center, but to eliminate all the peripheries.”

After the prime minister stepped down, the two sisters smiled at each other. In that smile was a tacit understanding that only they knew—five years ago, in that thrilling unification movement, five countries, twelve major ethnic groups, and 300 million people, every step, from the referendum to the drafting of the constitution to the transfer of power, was fraught with peril.

These two women, both in their early thirties, not only succeeded, but also led this fledgling nation to achieve the miracle of an average annual economic growth of 7.2% within five years.

“Do you remember, sister?” Ye Mei said softly, “Five years ago, on that rainy night, in the negotiation tent in Arusha, five former presidents surrounded us and said that the merger plan was ‘a naive fantasy of young people.’”

“I remember,” Ye Rou smiled. “Then you stood up and told them in five languages ​​in turn: ‘It’s not naivety, it’s necessity. Individually, we are just small patches on the map of Africa; united, we are the force the world must face.’”

“My father called from Boston at that time,” Ye Mei recalled. “He only said three things: First, ensure the support of the military; second, provide a way out for those who have vested interests; and third, always make sure that the people can see tangible benefits.”

“We did it.” Ye Rou looked into the distance, where a group of students were walking toward the newly built university of science and technology. Their school uniforms were the same dark blue of the East African Republic. “The armies of the five countries were reorganized into the East African National Defence Force, the old elites entered the new parliament and the board of directors of state-owned enterprises, and the people… they got jobs, electricity and confidence in the future.”

The encrypted terminal vibrated at that moment. Both of them checked simultaneously—it was an update from the "Root" group.

Ye Feng sent a briefing from New York: "The sovereign credit rating of the East African Republic has been upgraded to 'investment grade' by Moody's. International capital inflow forecasts have been revised upward by 30%. We recommend accelerating the issuance of new energy bonds."

Ye Mao followed up from Beijing: "We have coordinated with the China Development Bank and the Export-Import Bank to form a syndicate that can provide a total of US$200 billion in preferential loans for the East Africa Five-Year Plan. The prerequisite is that the project must use no less than 60% Chinese standard equipment."

Marshal Ye Jianying brought good news from Kyiv: "The Ukrainian Ministry of Agriculture has agreed to designate East Africa as a 'priority agricultural partner.' The first batch of 500 seed samples of high-quality corn, wheat, and sorghum varieties has been sent out in diplomatic parcels."

Ye Fei sent a risk assessment from White Rock: "The reunification process of the East African Republic has been rated by the Kremlin think tank as the 'most important geopolitical event of the year in Africa.' We intend to strengthen energy cooperation, but will impose conditions on uranium mining and nuclear power plant construction. We recommend careful evaluation."

Ye Rou quickly replied to everyone: "Two months from now, we will celebrate the fifth anniversary of the founding of the East African Republic. All family members are invited to attend. At that time, the 'East African New Energy and Food Security Alliance' will be officially launched—this is not only a family matter, but also a national strategy."

After sending the message, she turned to her sister: "It seems our 100-day celebration will have to be combined with our fifth anniversary celebration."

“Perfect.” Ye Mei teased Chenxing in her arms. “Let the world see how the future of East Africa and the future of the Ye family are intertwined.”
-
The New Capital Planning Exhibition Hall features a holographic model room.

This is the brain of the East African Republic. A huge holographic model showcases every inch of this young nation:
From the Indian Ocean coast to the waters of Lake Victoria, from the snow line of Kilimanjaro to the edge of the Congolese rainforest, the borders of five former countries have disappeared, replaced by six economic development zones and three transcontinental infrastructure corridors.

Ye Rou and Ye Mei stood in front of the sand table, surrounded by the core members of the cabinet—all of whom were once elites of their respective countries, but now they were working for a common vision.

“Your Majesty,” the Energy Minister said, pointing to the shimmering lights on the model, “according to the five-year plan, by the seventh year, our country’s photovoltaic installed capacity will reach 40 gigawatts, covering 60% of electricity demand. But the bottleneck is energy storage—current battery technology cannot cope with the continuous cloudy days during the dry season.”

"The solid-state battery research institute that my elder brother acquired will be relocated to Kisumu Science and Technology City next month."

Ye Mei pulled up a document: "Their third-generation solid-state battery has three times the energy density of existing products, and the cost is expected to drop by 50% within two years. What we need to do is plan five large battery factories around Lake Victoria."

The finance minister frowned: "This will require at least $120 billion in investment and will also affect this year's fiscal deficit target."

“So we won’t use all government funds,” Ye Rou continued. “We’ll issue ‘new energy sovereign bonds,’ with Brothers Group committing to underwrite 30%. For the remaining portion, we’ll invite sovereign wealth funds from China, the EU, and the UAE to participate. The collateral for the bonds—” she pointed to several areas on the sand table, “is the mining rights for lithium, cobalt, and graphite deposits here, here, and here.”

"But these are all strategic resources..." The Minister of Mines hesitated before continuing.

"Therefore, we are only transferring 49% of the mining rights, with a buyback clause attached." Ye Mei's finger slid across the holographic interface, bringing up complex legal text:

"Five years from now, when the battery industry chain matures, the government will have the right to repurchase a portion of the equity at an agreed price. This will solve the funding problem without losing long-term control."

A murmur of discussion arose in the conference room. This model was innovative, but also risky.

"And then there's agriculture." The Agriculture Minister switched to the sand table display. "Seed samples from Ukraine will arrive next week. The question is: where to plant them for trials? There's a lot of competition across the country."

Ye Rou zoomed in on the area on the southern slope of Mount Kilimanjaro: "Here, 5,000 hectares will be designated to establish the 'East African Joint Seed Research Center.' The former Kenyan, Tanzanian, and Ugandan countries will each contribute one-third of the land, and the profits will be distributed proportionally. The research team will consist of experts from Ugandania, Chinese experts, and our local agronomists."

“This will serve as a demonstration project,” Ye Mei added. “If successful, it will be promoted nationwide. But remember—all seed patents must belong to the National Seed Bank. Private companies can obtain commercial licenses, but they cannot monopolize them.” “What about traditional industries?” the Minister of Industry asked. “Textiles, footwear, primary processing… these industries are shrinking, already causing the unemployment of 150,000 people in the former Tanzanian region.”

Ye Rou and Ye Mei exchanged a glance. This was one of the most difficult problems since the merger—how to resettle those who were left behind while catching up with the cutting edge of new energy and modern agriculture?

“That’s why we’re launching the ‘Sunrise Transformation Fund’,” Ye Rou said, presenting the new plan. “A total of $50 billion, specifically for the retraining of workers in traditional industries and support for new entrepreneurship.”

If a textile worker wants to learn how to install solar panels, the government will cover all tuition fees and provide a monthly living allowance. If he wants to work in an agricultural demonstration zone, the government will provide relocation and resettlement subsidies.

“More importantly,” Ye Mei continued, “we need to clearly stipulate the local employment ratio in every new energy project and every modern agricultural project. Not low-skilled temporary workers, but formal positions with training and promotion channels.”

She paused, then uttered the key sentence: "The rise of East Africa cannot be the rise of just a small group of elites. Everyone who is willing to work hard must be able to see the ladder to advancement."

The meeting lasted three hours. By the time the ministers left, the setting sun had already bathed the snow-capped peaks of Kilimanjaro in gold.

The two sisters remained alone in the model room. The holographic image slowly rotated, showcasing the country they had created from scratch.

“Sometimes I’m scared,” Ye Mei suddenly said softly, a moment of vulnerability she rarely showed. “We’re moving so fast, so hastily, what if one day… all of this collapses?”

Ye Rou didn't answer immediately. She walked to the control panel of the sand table and entered a password. The display on the sand table changed—it was no longer just infrastructure and economic data, but population distribution, education level, medical coverage, community satisfaction... Behind those cold numbers are 300 million living people.

“Five years ago, this country had a high infant mortality rate and a high illiteracy rate,” she said, pulling up historical data. “Now look at today.”

The contrasting figures are startling: the infant mortality rate has dropped by 42%, the primary school enrollment rate has reached 99%, the proportion of villages with electricity has jumped from 31% to 87%, and the public's satisfaction with the "direction of national development" is as high as 81%.

“We are not building castles in the air, Ye Mei.”

Ye Rou turned around and took her sister's hand. "We are building a home where everyone can live with dignity on a land that was once filled with suffering. And these numbers—the numbers of children who survive, who can go to school, and who have electricity in their homes—are the most solid foundation of this home."

She paused, her gaze becoming profound: "My father said that true rule is not about controlling people, but about serving them. The crown we wear is not power, but the responsibility entrusted to us by 300 million people. As long as we don't forget this, East Africa will not collapse."

On the holographic sand table, the dots representing "public satisfaction" twinkled like stars, becoming denser and brighter.
-
Late at night, in the royal palace.

The two babies were fast asleep and had been placed in the adjoining nursery. Ye Rou and Ye Mei, however, were wide awake and sat side by side on the observatory—a space they had specially designed, with a transparent dome that offered an unobstructed view of the starry sky atop Mount Kilimanjaro.

"My older brother sent me the preliminary arrangements for the 100-day celebration today."

Ye Rou swiped her tablet and said, “He suggested that at the celebration, the ‘Ye Family East Africa Foundation’ be officially announced, with an initial capital of US$10 billion, all of which will be used for education and healthcare.”

“My second brother coordinated with the best children’s hospital in China and agreed to send a team of experts to be stationed there,” Ye Mei added. “My third brother invited the president of a top agricultural university from Uzbekistan to discuss jointly establishing the first agricultural science and technology university in East Africa. My fourth brother… my fourth brother sent two gifts.”

"What is it?"

“One document is the naming rights from the Russian Academy of Sciences Observatory—they agreed to name the newly discovered asteroid ‘Star of East Africa.’ The other document,” Ye Mei’s voice lowered, “is a top-secret geopolitical risk assessment, listing the external interventions and internal challenges that East Africa may face in the next five years, a full two hundred pages long.”

The two sisters fell silent. Starlight shone upon them and upon the young city beneath their feet.

“Sometimes I wonder,” Ye Rou said softly, “how will our daughter see us when she grows up? How will she see the country we created? How will she see the double crowns we wear?”

“I hope they see more than just a crown.” Ye Mei looked up at the starry sky. “I hope they see that on this land once known as the ‘Continent of Despair,’ their mother and aunt once believed in a different possibility. And they used their entire lives to turn that possibility into reality.”

She turned her head, her eyes sparkling: "Just like my father always said—history is not written, it is done."

In the distance, the city continues to function. Energy storage power stations conduct charge-discharge tests at midnight, laboratory lights burn all night, and cargo ships load and unload equipment from around the world at the port. This country is too young, too young to bear the burden of history, but because of this, it dares not sleep soundly every night.

Inside the holographic sand table room, the enormous model of the East African Republic was slowly rotating according to a pre-set program.

Along its border, the dotted lines that once separated the five countries have disappeared. In their place is a ring of shimmering light—that's the border free trade zone, joint patrol stations, and cross-border power grid under construction.

Beyond the light belt, on a broader world map, the connecting lines extending from East Africa are becoming increasingly dense: a "Maritime Silk Road" leading to China, a "Green Energy Corridor" leading to Europe, a "Food Security Corridor" connecting the Middle East, and another... an invisible link leading to the Kirovgrad region of Ukraine, carrying seeds and hope.

These lines all eventually converge on one point: New York, the headquarters of the Brothers Group, the place Ye Feng called the "root hub".

But at this moment, in the dead of night on the East African plateau, the two most important threads are right here—two young queens, two 100-day-old babies, and a country that is only five years old but has already attracted the world's attention.

Ye Rou gently held her younger sister's hand.

“Two months later,” she said, “when the family is here, when we celebrate Xuguang and Chenxing’s 100-day celebration and the country’s fifth birthday together, we will tell the world something.”

"what?"

"Tell the world that the story of East Africa is not about aid, not about pity, not about resource plunder."

Ye Rou's voice was clear and firm under the starry sky, "It is about how a group of people who were once separated chose to come together; how a land that was once ignored decided to illuminate itself; and how a family used its roots spanning three continents to support the budding of a new civilization."

Outside the transparent dome of the observatory, a shooting star streaked across the night sky.

On the other side of the world, Ye Feng received a formal invitation jointly signed by his two younger sisters. The letter ended with this sentence:

“Come to East Africa and see what happens when crowns are not inherited but constructed; when nations are not divided but integrated; when the future is not predicted but created.”

He closed the file and looked out the office window. The New York night sky wasn't as clear as the starry sky over Kilimanjaro, but at that moment, he felt as if he could see through the clouds and the distance to that newly born country on the equator, and the figures of his two sisters standing side by side.

He knew that the gathering two months later would be more than just a family reunion.

That will be a declaration—to the world, and to history. (End of Chapter)