The Best Movie Actor In Hollywood!

Chapter 706

The roar of the engines sent wildlife scattering as the convoy’s tires kicked up a cloud of dust. The long line of vehicles pushed forward, its armed military escort dispelling any doubts—on this land, heavy machinery was a far more effective symbol than a UN flag.

Soon, the convoy came to a halt at the entrance to a sprawling encampment of tents and simple shacks.

Matthew was the first to step out of his vehicle. Emma Watson hopped out from the other side, gazing in astonishment at the vast expanse of the camp.

“What is it?” Matthew asked, walking over to her.

Emma shook her head. “This is the first time I’ve ever seen a refugee camp.” She saw people walking about in tattered clothes. At nineteen, she was far more empathetic than Matthew. “They all look so poor.”

Matthew, however, said nothing. Unlike Emma Watson, who was visiting Africa for the first time, he had donated a great deal to its refugees, women, and children, and had a better grasp of the real situation.

The reality was far more complicated than it appeared, but for a moment, Matthew didn’t know how to explain it.

Many of the accompanying journalists were already busy. Just a few steps from Matthew, a female reporter and her cameraman had started filming, with the entrance to the refugee camp as their backdrop.

“There are a total of 2.4 million refugees in Africa, living in 200 camps across twenty-two countries. After fleeing their homes and arriving at these camps, many refugees have no means of survival and are almost entirely dependent on international aid...”

“That many people?” Emma overheard the reporter and couldn’t help but ask Matthew, “Can international aid alone handle this problem? The international organizations can’t sustain this forever, can they? Why don’t they find a way to become self-sufficient?”Matthew shook his head. “I’m not sure about other places, but the Dadaab refugee camps aren’t just home to Somali refugees.”

“Huh?” Emma grew curious. “But wasn’t this place set up exclusively for Somali refugees?”

“Well... they say there are a lot of Kenyans here too,” Matthew said, shaking his head slightly.

Emma Watson became even more curious. “Isn’t Kenya the most stable and prosperous country in East Africa?”

Wary that his own cynicism might influence Emma, Matthew didn’t elaborate. “Let’s go inside first. You might understand once you see it for yourself.”

Just then, an assistant approached Matthew, while representatives from a women and children’s aid foundation went to speak with Emma.

The UN delegation was also split into two groups: one for the UNHCR and WFP, and another for the WHO and the women and children’s fund.

Matthew, of course, followed the first group. Guterres was the lead official on this team, and he and Matthew walked at the very front, followed by security guards and a large contingent of journalists.

The group entered the camp and proceeded down a path between the tents. The camp’s management had done extensive prep work beforehand, and the dirt road was at least reasonably smooth.

Guterres was the UN High Commissioner for Refugees, the highest-ranking official present, and this camp fell directly under his purview. As someone with aspirations for the Secretary-General position, he took this trip very seriously.

Likewise, Matthew, who needed the status and title of a philanthropist and social activist, was equally serious.

As he passed a couple weeping bitterly over their stolen food, Matthew deliberately called over a translator, inquired about the situation in detail, and quickly resolved their problem.

Naturally, the entire exchange was captured by the reporters’ cameras.

Even if the journalists covering social and current affairs chose not to film, it didn’t matter. Helen had hired a team that had long since blended in seamlessly with the rest of the press corps.

After that, Matthew visited several more tents under the watchful eyes of numerous camera lenses.

A group of children shared food coated in dust and dirt. A line of refugees waited for rations under the scorching sun.

Matthew and Guterres toured a small section of the refugee area, paying close attention to the living conditions of the elderly, children, and women.

Matthew, in particular, took out a special notebook and jotted down what the translator relayed to him.

Jack was very clever. Seizing an opportunity when Matthew bent down to ask a black child a question, he raised his handheld camera and took a picture of the notebook in his hand.

“What did you get?” Alex noticed and came over to ask. “Some kind of secret document?”

Jack played back the shot, looked at the densely filled pages of the notebook, and sighed in response. “Even when you know he’s putting on a show, you can’t help but admire him.”

With that, he handed the camera to Alex. “See for yourself.”

Alex glanced at the image and said, “He’s not just putting on a show. He’s actually doing something.” He thought for a moment before adding, “Old Jack, it doesn’t matter if he’s doing this for fame or not. What he’s done...”

As he spoke, Alex gestured toward the gray-white tents of the refugee camp. “He’s genuinely helping these people.”

Suddenly, the delegation stopped. Hundreds of black people were blocking the path ahead. The security personnel in the team grew vigilant, and a translator stepped forward to communicate.

“What’s going on?” Old Jack stopped abruptly. “Are they looking for trouble?”

He had worked in Africa for many years and knew that many “refugees” weren’t refugees at all.

Alex was also a little puzzled. He stood on his toes and peered out from the crowd, only to see that Matthew Horner had suddenly stepped out in front of the black people. After a few translated words, they seemed to become incredibly emotional, one after another.

Many reporters at the front rushed to film, and Alex and Jack hurried to follow. They soon understood what was happening.

It turned out that these Somali refugees had received substantial material aid from the Matthew Horner charity fund over the past few years. Some of them believed their children would have died without the timely intervention of his foundation.

These people had come specifically to express their gratitude to Matthew.

Watching Matthew embrace the people one by one, lift a small black child into his arms, and speak candidly with several elders, Jack subconsciously raised his camera and captured it all.

“This is real charity. Even if this is just a show, the fact that he’s moved so many people to thank him from the bottom of their hearts makes him a true philanthropist.”

***

Matthew stood before hundreds of grateful black people, allowing the reporters to take their pictures. This part hadn’t been arranged, but over the past few years, his two foundations had genuinely helped a lot of people. Compared to UN charities, his foundations, along with the women and children’s funds, largely adhered to the principle of saving those in dire need rather than simply aiding the poor, and had rescued many from the brink of death, especially children.

These people were thanking him from the bottom of their hearts.

True, his charity work was highly targeted, and his motives were far from pure. He was certainly an object of scorn for many purists, but no one could deny that the vast sums of money from his foundation had helped a great many people.

Since he had paid the price, Matthew naturally wanted his reward.

So, as he stood in the middle of the group he had helped, posing for a group photo, creating a news story and building his halo effect, Matthew felt no guilt whatsoever.

Because this was something he had earned through hard work.

After the group photo was over, Matthew and Guterres waved goodbye to the crowd and continued deeper into the refugee camp, which was much larger than the last time they had visited.

In the camp, he saw many unusual situations and overheard comments from those around him, but he said nothing.

Even with the UN maintaining order, refugee camps were not pristine places.

Dadaab was the largest refugee camp in the world, established in 1991 when the UNHCR began to integrate Somalis fleeing civil war, which led to the formation of informal settlements and eventually the camp itself.

Today, the bureaucracy within the camp was as suffocating as the heat.

Now, in addition to Somalis unable to return home, the camp was filled with a large number of Kenyans, many of whom had legal status but had somehow become Somali refugees.

But these were not problems for Matthew to solve, and he wasn’t foolish enough to interfere.

After all, it was a problem even the UN struggled to solve, let alone him.