A quick glance at the more serious side

An example of what is known as "bushmeat" -- "if it moves slow or if it flies low, it will get eaten" is the saying around here. Anything from rats, snakes, canecutters, antelope, monkeys, gorillas, owls, jackal, baboons -- is killed and sold as meat. Every govern,ent has outlawd bushmeat, but the practise flourishes nevertheless. Hence the dearth of wild animals in Africa today.

After driving through Nigeria and spending a week in Abuja – the most incongruously modern and progressive city we have seen in Africa – and after reading several of the excellent established and emerging authors of this impressive country – in short, after being more than impressed with the wealth of Nigeria – financial, developmental, cultural and social – it was with a jolt that we arrived in the beautiful Congo – a country which theoretically should be no different, but seems to have only a subsistence economy and nothing else.

So, full of motivation I came to sit and write a somewhat more serious blog entry with some meat – metaphorically speaking, if I may -- a little illegal bushmeat of the omnipresent corruption, a few fried chicken legs from the streetfood man perhaps of the very visible Chinese colonialism and who knows, even a bowl or two of offal on the differences between two past-colonies – one British and one French and where they both are today, fifty years after their respective independence declarations.

But then, almost a week later – a week of frustration and head-banging futile attempts at understanding even slightly the thinking process of the bureaucrats in the consular and immigration offices of these remote parts, and of spending the remaining daylight hours attempting to download even just a few internet pages in order to study enough background to these subjects to make sense of my own observations, I finally had to admit defeat; perhaps I should just stick to dishing up cream puffs and delectable sweetmeats, as I know that my 'meaty' article will have to be no more than a few humble and simplistic comments about what we have seen and what we have heard and what we have experienced – a somewhat bland and plain dish with nothing more than a mild flavouring of meat in the sauce in which it is served. The cordon bleu meal will have to wait until such time as I have done a lot more reading, a lot more research and definitely a lot more studying of these ambitious subjects.

In a report on his findings on corruption for the Economic & Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) in Nigeria where he was the chairman during their investigation into corruption in Africa, (2003-2008) Nuhu Ribadu, came to the conclusion that corruption, as far as he is concerned, is the most destructive force ranged against society and the state in Africa. It is not too hard to assume that what is holding Africa back – back from developing at a break-neck speed to be what it theoretically should always have been – the bread basket and the source of all mineral and energy wealth – has to be the debilitating corruption that is all pervasive, for there most certainly does not seem to be any other immediately recognisable restraining force holding this continent back. Other than one civil war after the other, military regimes, and botched attempts at building real democracy, the one connecting factor in the failure of all attempts at making any of these oil and mineral rich countries global contenders, is corruption – and even those are all directly spawned and fuelled by corruption; this practised abuse of public power and resources for private gain is the major factor that is strangling the whole life process of a country's polity and alienating their civic sector. Corruption is not only an African problem, as we know only too well, but the problem is that here one can safely go so far as to say that in countries such as Nigeria, Congo, and Kenya, corruption has been institutionalised. If corruption therefore stands as the single most damaging force against economic growth, social stability and democracy; if corruption is the very reason why, after about half a century of independence, they still cannot proudly hold their own among nations that have built an enriching community life for their citizens, then there is a problem on why Africa has been so complacent in their quest for solutions. A glaring example of the debilitating and destructive effect of unstemmed corruption was surely Zaire -- that enormously rich country whose wealth and resources were shredded to ground zero by one of the worst and most shameless thieving leaders of this continent, Mobutu Sese Seko. At the end of the day what happened to the country? The state failed as an instrument of authority and organisation and the elite in the country got rich on the crumbs this man left, paving the path for a horrendous bloodbath. And today, Zaire, or the DRC is no more; its treasury is dry. Mobutu is no more than the chosen villain's name in children's role-play, but millions of his poor compatriots have been killed and murdered in a senseless war that was crafted in ethno-national colours rather than a simple case of failure of governance triggered by corruption.

Other examples abound: Liberia, Sierra Leone, Kenya, Sudan. These are relics of failure of governance, countries that have now become poster boards of the effect of elite greed and corruption that have resulted in the mass misery of their people. “The challenge before us,” says Ribadu, “is to set our sights on making corruption, rather than poverty or any other socio-economic malaise, history. For, as soon as we do so, everything else, like a worrisome jigsaw puzzle, will fall in place. Making corruption history is the surest way of making all the problems of Africa history.” The sad –and almost unsurprising response to this report, however, was the replacement of Ribadu and the disbanding of the Commission; corruption fights back against the fight against corruption – the law of the nature of man.

And does that then also explain the presence of the Chinese in Africa? Or would that be a too-easy assumption to make?

I realise that there is quite an important forum of discussion out there on the presence of the Chinese in Africa. Before I came on this trans I had heard about the Chinese moving in in various African countries – mainly in the field of energy-production and construction, and in southern Africa I knew of their slow but focused accumulation of the major shareholdings in the mining and mineral industries. I must admit that I had also read about their 'emotional blackmail' methods and wondered about the lack of backbone in the response to this from the governments involved; “our government's feelings will be severely hurt”, they sniffed when the Dalai Llama was to visit the French president in the Elysee Palace. Since when are government's 'feelings hurt”? Since when is this kind of language used in intellectual and diplomatic circles – and if so, not laughed out of the circle with scorn? Perhaps I should not jest. After all, the French understood that the 'hurt feelings' would result in the loss of the Airbus contract. But when the Dalai Llama could not attend the celebrations in South Africa when Mandela and De Klerk received the Nobel Peace Prize, was the invitation really withdrawn because the Chinese shook their head and expressed their “deep disappointment”? This almost parental role the Chinese are taking I must say is quite a clever ploy and most certainly seems to work on the African psyche. When the construction workers demonstrated this year in February against the inhumane hours, low pay (1000CFA=2Euros for a 14 hour day) and unacceptable work conditions, the government told them to get back to work and not “disappoint” the Chinese as they were guests in this country and doing much for their country and should be treated with respect. It seems the iron fist with which the Chinese hold the African countries by the neck is gloved in velvet?

But if there is any doubt about their presence being for the long haul – or at least until they have bed each of these countries dry where they have infiltrated into, then you only have to talk to a few of the Europeans here who work for some of the few non-Chinese companies that are still here. The Chinese simply pick up their briefcases and threatened to leave the room if anyone should raise a question as to their work ethics, their humanity issues, their employment of Chinese convicts (and the minimum local labour), their complete lack of spending in the country where they live and work on a contract. They don't raise their voices. They simply threaten to leave the project they are busy working on – but keeping the benefit clause in the contract – to name one example: they keep their first option rights on ALL the oil Angola produces in case of global meltdown or a serious middle-east crisis (yes – they own the first option on all Angola's oil in perpetuity), they keep all their sole mining rights of all precious metals, they keep all timber the countries have available...

You have to ask the question – how did these African governments get themselves into this situation? How did they reel, laughing and singing, out of the Fifty Year of Independence from colonialism celebrations and fall right into the arms of another colonising force with such insouciance. And I am afraid the only way I can answer that question to myself – until such time as I have done a whole lot more research and reading on the matter, is that it comes back to where we started: Corruption. Self-enrichment. Greed.

Dessert anyone?

Glimpses from the truck as we drive through the Republic of Congo and Dolasie to Pointe Noire, over the mountains and through the clouds

The 200km drive from Dolasie to Pointe Noire (Congo) was one of the highlights of our trip -- a day of driving over a massive mountain range covered in ancient forests hidden under the clouds - on a new road being built by the Chinese.

All the vehicles and machinery -- and there is no shortage of anything -- have been brought from China, but the labour is local - and painfully young. These youngsters work for less than 2 Euros for a 14 hour day. The Chinese workers are apparently all convicts, recognisable by their tattoos. Nevertheless only they are in supervisory positions and seldom seem to do more than stand and oversee.

Scaling the man-made cliffs where the road has literally been cut through the mountain, the engineering skills are somewhat novel and unusual -- but

probably made possible by the abundance of cheap labour/manpower

Perhaps we were incredibly fortunate seeing the new road when we did: There was still the stunning landscape hidden until now under the clouds, untouched, unspoilt, undiscovered, and then, the cruel red gash through the mountain, through the forests, like a deep jagged knife wound. But also, we have to admit, the amazing engineering feat of this new road - which cannot fail to impress -- even if grudgingly...

There are moments when you could well look up and ask: When did we arrive in China?

The new road cut a swathe through the ancient forests, where the trees stand so tall it is difficult to give a perspective of their immense height.

Where the Chinese find minerals, gold, diamonds -- anything that can be mined and sent back to China, they do so, apparently without any stumbling blocks. Here, next to a Chinese mine (can someone tell me what it is?) the villages are covered in white dust -- giving an impression of snow in the tropics

A giant stand sentinel on the hill, looking at the devastation of what remains of a primeval forest around him. Interesting architecture as far as churches go...

The lush verdant green rain forest from the rainy season turns into a strange powdery red world where all the tropical plants are covered from head to toe in the finest talcum dust churned up by the logger trucks that speed up and down the dirt tracks

Mila-Mila where we stopped for cook group shopping (it was the only town that day where we could get something for dinner that night) was a very strange town... Dodge City springs to mind -- or better still, Dodgy City. At a cross roads - or rather where two dirt tracks come together into the single one, the logger truck drivers -- from Malaysia, Fillippines, Korea -- stop for a breather, to repair burst tyres and broken axles, to eat greasy chicken and drink beer and to visit the prostitutes who line up in their large numbers in festive aray, loud chatter and much joyful laughter.

On the plateau the rain forest turns to rolling hills and tall elephant grass - soft and dreamy. We cross many rivers on our journey -- often two or three a day, each one wide and deep and impressive -- so large that you would expect to have heard of the name somewhere in a geography lesson or a documentary on the great rivers of the world, but, here in Africa, just another river, like so many others...

Such vast areas where there is no habitation, no agriculture, just endless savannah, hills, far-off forests, rolling hills. And then, a welcome stream that beckons the traveller to come cool down and wash off all that dust before continuing...

A lone canoe glides down the river, bringing home a rich catch of plentiful fish.

A large flock of birds swoops across the cloudy sky, this way, then that - for the sheer pleasure of being alive!

Perhaps the beauty around us, perhaps a moment of missing being home, but whatever the inspiration for the little flower on the breakfast papaya, the gesture brought the gift of a smile; thank you Suzanne!

Suddenly, the women here in the Congo do not carry their heavy loads on their heads anymore, but rather in baskets slung from their heads. The baskets themselves are beautifully woven and works of art in their own right.

Moments of beauty abound in Africa...

In all that dust, a flower peeks through from underneath the dust covered leaves, and shows her beautiful face to the world...

To give some indication of the "main road" through Gabon and Congo.

...and if it is slightly out of focus, that is because the truck was shaking like a cement mixer at the time of the photo's being taken, the dust was a red cloud around us and the photographer had to hold on to a steel railing with one hand for dear life!

A few random pics of the past two weeks... On a long dusty road through Cameroon, Gabon and the Congo

One of the many logger trucks. They speed along these bad roads as if it is possible to fly over massive potholes, so the damage is quite extensive and the casualties many. Bushcamping means getting up with the sun -- sometimes as difficult for us as for this sun stuck in the tall elephant grass

When you are bushcamping for two weeks or more, finding a cool, bubbling stream along the way is a godsend! Out comes the soap and shampoo and razors and all those things a girl can so absolutely NOT possibly live without!... Sheer bliss -- and positively a Red Button moment!

A speckled hen and chicks, a speckled back and itches! "Cover up!" is our sunset motto, but if you are not quick enough, the insects will eat you up before you can say '%@#/!'

Beautiful vegetables -- we don't always know what we are eating, but we are eating fresh and delicious and healty! A red button left on a leaf for the rain forests of Gabon. (in the foreground..)

Suzanne looking sharp digging a hole for our perishable rubbish and Mark, always on lookout for firewood for our cooking -- not daunted by the size of this mammoth log; in no time, with Ben's helpful commentary (the shirt was in honour of the 4th of July, in case you were wondering...), he had reduced the log to fire-size pieces of wood and our wood-locker was once again replenished!

Ali Bongo Ondimba -- the 'Hip' Ali'9, president of Gabon. A very mod approach for the election but unfortunately, as is the case everywhere, back to the usual business of corruption and self-enrichment once installed. Tsk Tsk, John -- a natural water fountain alongside the road may make a good place to have a quick shower, but -- ahumm -- in public??

Instead of the beautifully crafted mud houses of the previous countries, Gabon and Congo use timber for their houses -- once in a while painted and providing a splash of colour. Dried and smoked fish gleaming golden in the sun and waiting to be prepared for dinner.

An interesting decoration of a bar wall in Dolasie, Congo -- 78 LP's and mirrors. Washing in villages always a pleasure to the eye.

We all had some fun at the Equator in Gabon) -- a great place to be silly, for some reason...

From left to right: Tony, John, Andrew, Randy, Elisa, David, Tash, Graham, Emy, Orm, Suzanne, Ben, Wilna

Kubb: the fabulous Swedish game that David had made for the group back in Yaounde and which is now providing hours of competitive fun when we set up bushcamp every evening. The artwork on the 'king' block by Orm.

From being quite a frightening sight, my arm is finally looking 100% better and on the mend. Quite frightening to be bitten by an unknown insect that squirts flesh-eating toxins into your skin and then (we hope!) leaves. The skin was gradually eaten away - fortunately around only two of the fifteen bites. Not a pretty sight.

The fine talcum powder red dust covers everything and turns the verdant rainforest into a pinkish red phenomenon -- as well as eye lashes, hair, skin and clothes -- not to even mention laptops, cameras...

A bowl of freshly picked oranges on the boom that divides Cameroon and Gabon. There has to be some kind of symbolical significance to this, surely?