30 septembre 2006
Work work work
Sorry for taking so long to update this blog. I've been working on a big project for the UK Department for International Development which has taken me all over Kenya and this, combined with my others jobs, has made it difficult for me to find time to do something else than work.
It should come to an end in one week or two though, and hopefully I'll be back on this blog more often.
25 septembre 2006
The Cholmondeley trial
Last May, white landowner and heir of one of Kenya’s early British settlers, Thomas Cholmondeley (pronounce Chum-ley), shot down a black Kenyan on his land – for the second time. Almost exactly a year ago, Cholmondeley was arrested for the murder of an undercover Kenya Wildlife Services agent whom he had allegedly mistaken for a thief. He was trialed but acquitted, sparking outrage in the Maasai community where the dead man was from.
Cholmondeley was officially released because there was not sufficient proof that he hadn’t act in self-defense, as he was claiming. But many suggested that he got away with the murder thanks to his political connections and the influence of his family.
The story highlights an issue that is sensitive in Kenya, and particularly in the Rift Valley region: the land issue. During colonial times, British settlers grabbed large patches of land in the fertile area around Naivasha, signing contracts with illiterate Maasais who handed their territory over for small sums of money and without always understanding all the implications.
At Kenya’s independence in 1960, most of these lands, except a few ranches, were handed back to the State. The few 
remaining white-owned ranches are for most them huge – Cholmondeley’s is said to be between 50,000 and 100,000 acres - and teeming with wildlife. They produce meat and dairy products, and employ many local Kenyans. But despite the economic support they give to the region, resentment runs high among the poor neighboring communities forced to live on tiny patches of land on the outskirts of the white-owned immense properties.
With no other way to survive, some regularly sneak into these private lands to poach wild animals for food. Crime and insecurity have also been on the rise this past couple of years, during which 4 white Kenyans were killed by armed robbers.
Cholmondeley was being trialed this week for the second murder, this time of a poor Kenyan that he caught poaching on his land. His lawyer argued that he acted in self-defense again, while the other party tried to portray him as a barbaric and neo-colonial racist.
On Monday, Andrew and I were at the law courts to film Cholmondeley’s arrival. After 4 months in jail, he was brought to court, the only white man packed in a large police truck with the dozen of other suspects to be trialed that day.
His family was waiting in the hallway, making no effort to hide from the international and local journalists who had come to cover the story.
When we were finally let into the courtroom, the journalists were filling half of the seats. The BBC, Al-Jazeera, Reuters, AP, the New York Times, we were all there.
Cholmondeley was brought in and sat down next to the suspects for 6 other cases, who were quickly called and dismissed to leave time and space for the high-profile case of the day.
We were not supposed to film during the court’s proceedings, but when Cholmondeley arrived we all tried our luck and because nobody said anything, we kept filming and filming as much as we could.
Andrew was about 10 cm away from Cholmondeley’s face (he kept his eyes closed during most of the hearings), when his lawyer called out to the judge:
- Your Honor, I have to say I don’t agree with what is going on. There are journalists taking pictures of the accused during the court’s proceedings. This is forbidden by law.
- Journalists?
- Yes, your Honor.
- Oh. You’re saying they are taking pictures? Which ones are taking pictures exactly?
We all looked at each other and repressed a smile. Was this judge blind or what? We were ALL filming. We instantly acted innocent and surprised. The lawyer smiled too and said:
- Well, your Honor, all of them.
- Oh. (silence)
- Your Honor, I suggest that if they want to take pictures of the accused, they wait until we’re done for today, and then they can get him outside.
- Right, right.
The trial resumed. After the witnesses were introduced, the prosecutor began his statement.
Your Honor, the Cholmondeley ranch measures 50,000 acres (silence). These 50,000 acres are teeming with buffalos, zebras…
- I’m sorry, you said buffalos?
- Yes your Honor.
- Can you repeat the sentence?
- Yes your Honor. It’s teeming with buffalos, zebras, antelopes…
That’s when I realized that there was no stenographer. The Judge was actually noting EVERYTHING down, HIMSELF. It felt like we were in a classroom during a dictation. And the judge was not particularly quick at this exercise.
It soon became totally absurd. This was taking forever. Then I understood why Cholmondeley was keeping his eyes closed: he had been through this before and he probably knew he should save his energy if he wanted to last until the end.
As for us the journalists, we were all getting very impatient. Adam from the BBC was raising his eyes to the sky. Andrew and I were itching to get out of it, but we had to wait for the prosecutor to be done with his statement. When he pronounced his last sentence, many of us rushed to the exit. “At this pace, it’s going to take weeks”, said a woman photographer.
If Cholmondeley is found guilty, he could face the death penalty – by hanging.
17 septembre 2006
Key words
When you have a blog, among the tools you can use to manage your site, there are the "statistics". I like the statistics because they enable me to track you, the readers, and understand a little bit more who you are - and this even if you don't post a comment. It's also interesting to see that people from Vietnam or the United Arab Emirates have found their way to "Good Morning Africa", although I still wonder how.
Well, one of the ways to understand "how" is to look at the key words that lead to this blog. There are the normal ones that refer to the blog in general or to a particular post, like "Nairobi", "Mohamed Amin", "Somalia", "Aidan Hartley", or "Carnivore". Then there are those of you who google my name (yep, you're busted). But these past few weeks, I've noticed that some people have ended up on this blog after typing things like "naked African breasts", or even worse "young boys sex".
Curious to see exactly where they would end up after typing the last one, I clicked on the link and it opened on the Free Primary Education post. Okay, there are young boys in there (young boys at school), and yes, I did write sex, as in the school I visited pupils are encouraged not to have sex to protect against HIV-AIDS. Boy, someone must have been disappointed.
10 septembre 2006
Even soccer is politics in Kenya
I bet you’ve never heard of the Harambee Stars, the Kenyan national soccer team. That’s because they have never been on the international soccer map. Never won any international competition, never participated in the World Cup.
That’s a shame, because as the last World Cup has shown, Kenyans love soccer (or “football”, as they say). A popular Kenyan rap group has even made a song entitled “Arsenal”, to celebrate their favorite club.
Well a few weeks ago, there was renewed hope for soccer fans in Kenya – hope that their own national team could maybe reach new heights, and this, thanks to famous but retired French World champion Bernard Lama.
Last August, Lama announced that he had accepted the Harambee Stars’ offer to become their new coach, and that he 
had great ambitions for the team, the first one being a qualification to the 2008 Africa Cup in Ghana.
This was to be his first posting as a coach, after having been a talented goal keeper for the French national team for years. He had picked Kenya, he had said, “because it is a beautiful country and there’s everything to be done. This is a true challenge.”
On September 2nd, Andrew and I went to cover Kenya’s first qualification match against Eritrea, an inexperienced team that had evolved below the radar and wasn’t considered as a threat by anyone.
The match was going to start at 3pm. They never start much later here, because night falls at 6:30pm and the stadium lights haven’t been working for years. We got there just in time to see Lama make his entry, cheered by an excited crowd, which barely filled half of the stands.
Lama looked serious and focused. He had called several players evolving in international clubs to make up the new national team, but he was still trying them out.
Interestingly for me, I learnt that about 70% of the players were from the Luo tribe. In Kenya, soccer, as politics, is dominated by tribal allegiances. Actually, soccer IS politics in Kenya, and soccer is and has been forever a Luo thing. In the stands, I realized that many supporters were not cheering for their team, but singing political slogans. They were quite excited as well, and I have to say, not looking very friendly.
The match started, and very quickly became quite embarrassing to watch. The Harambee Stars were playing a messy, clumsy game, missing all the occasions. Lama was getting frustrated, sometimes even giving a sarcastic smile to the cameras as a sign of hopelessness, and angrily shouting “Allez, allez, allez!!” to his team (let’s hope they had all been given a crash course in French soccer vocabulary).
The public was getting frustrated too. When the Eritrean coach received a red card for throwing a chair on the pitch (to this day, I still don’t know why he did that, the guy was winning), the crowd started to boo him and to throw bottles at him. The coach was ordered to leave the stadium but he would have had to face the angry spectators so he stayed there, not knowing what to do. Lama went to him, hold him by the shoulders and walked with him towards the exit to protect him from the bottles. Wow, I thought, this guy is tough.
Andrew and I went to walk around the stands to get some reactions and voxpops. All the supporters had faith in Lama, some of them even hoping that he could “clean up” Kenyan soccer. I started to think that the expectations were really high for one single man who was just discovering Kenya and its complexities.
The match ended on a shameful 2-1 for Eritrea. Lama proceeded towards the exit, tailed by all the journalists: “Mr Lama, your reaction to this match? What happened?”. “Give me a few minutes, he said, I’ll speak to your after the debrief with the team”. We left him alone and just followed him quietly. As we were getting to the exit, we were welcomed by more bottle throwing and realized that… the supporters were attacking THEIR OWN TEAM. Glass bottles were crashing all around me. The team went back to the pitch. A few of us stayed close to Lama, hesitating for a few minutes. Should we rush inside? Should we stay on the pitch with the team until the stands were cleared?
Lama was visibly annoyed, but he didn’t flinch and kept walking. The bottles all missed him. Andrew was following him closely with my camera (MY camera. He’d better be careful). I followed as well.
Inside, Lama was nervously smoking a cigarette. A French guy, who I think was working for France Football, was yelling at the police that they were supposed to be protecting the players.
When Lama was finally ready for an interview, I asked him what he thought of the Kenyan public.
- I hate that, I hate this attitude. There's no respect, and that's something that needs to change.
- We've spoken to someof the supporters in the stands, they count on you to reform Kenya's soccer administration. What do you say to that?
- Ah, well, the thing is you can't do this alone. I can help, I can give guidance, I can do a lot, but I'm on my own here, and Kenya has to take care of its own soccer. This country has to take responsibility for itself.
After the interview, I talked to him privately for a little while, and he told me how limited he was in his task. He had asked for laptops so that his assistant coach and his staff could work, but there was no money for that. He wanted to organize friendly games so that the team could practice, but there was no money for that either. At the same time, the Kenyan Football Federation hadn’t allocated him a house yet, so he was still staying in a hotel at 150 dollars the night. This made no sense to him.
Andrew and I looked at each other with the same thought: he’s not going to last long.
And indeed he didn’t. The next day Lama held a presser to reveal that he hadn’t even signed a contract yet. He had been working for free for a month. Now he was not taking this anymore, and he wouldn’t do anything until he had a contract. He went back to France without one. From there he launched another appeal to the Federation, that was left unanswered. Lama finally announced that he was quitting, probably wondering why Kenyan soccer was shooting itself in the foot like that.
06 septembre 2006
Article in "Metro" last week
For those of you who speak French, here's an article for which I was interviewed last week:
Quelque chose de Sarkozy
Le soutien de Johnny au ministre de l’Intérieur aura-t-il un impact sur la présidentielle ?(30/08/2006)
L’“idole des jeunes” participera ce week-end à l’université d’été de l’UMP à Marseille. Peut-être pas pour pousser la chansonnette avec Nicolas Sarkozy, mais certainement pour lui apporter son soutien. “Je ne vais pas me contenter de voter pour lui, je vais lui donner un coup de main dans la mesure de mes moyens”, avait déclaré le chanteur à Nice-Matin le 29 juillet dernier. Sa présence a été confirmée lundi par Luc Chatel, porte-parole du parti. Hier, la députée sarkozyste Nadine Morano a révélé sur RTL que Johnny, mais aussi son épouse, Lætitia, et son fils David étaient officiellement militants de l’UMP.
On connaissait déjà les Christian Clavier, Didier Barbelivien, Michel Sardou et autre Jean Reno. De dîners place Beauvau en rencontres plus ou moins improvisées, d’autres noms sont venus enrichir les amitiés people du candidat, ces derniers mois, parmi lesquels Jean-Marie Bigard, Bernard Laporte, Fabrice Santoro ou encore Faudel. Pour quel effet ? “Ça humanise le candidat et ça touche un public plus large que la stricte info politique. Mais j’ai un doute sur l’impact électoral”, avoue Manuel Aeschlimann, proche de Nicolas Sarkozy et spécialiste des enquêtes d’opinion.
A double tranchant
Pour Marie Lora, auteur d’un ouvrage consacré à la dernière élection américaine*, l’engagement des people risque aussi de se retourner contre les candidats. “Le problème avec les stars, c’est qu’elles peuvent aliéner une partie des électeurs. On ne se reconnaît pas tous en Johnny Hallyday, en particulier les jeunes. Si l’UMP veut vraiment miser là-dessus, il va falloir trouver des gens plus modernes.” Jamel Debbouze et Diam’s, chouchous des 18-25 ans, ayant déjà crié leur affection pour Ségolène Royal sur Canal+, la chasse aux people “djeuns” s’annonce serrée. A qui le tour ?
Jérôme Vermelin
*Marketing politique : mode d’emploi de Marie Lora (Studyrama Perspectives)
"How to write about Africa"
I’ve just read this article, which I think is pretty funny (oops, I’ve combined all the cliches in the title of this blog. Oh well.)
'How to write about Africa'
By Binyavanga Wainaina
some tips: sunsets and starvation are good
Always use the word '
Never have a picture of a well-adjusted African on the cover of your book, or in it, unless that African has won the Nobel Prize. An AK-47, prominent ribs, naked breasts: use these. If you must include an African, make sure you get one in Masai or Zulu or Dogon dress.
In your text, treat Africa as if it were one country. It is hot and dusty with rolling grasslands and huge herds of animals and tall, thin people who are starving. Or it is hot and steamy with very short people who eat primates. Don't get bogged down with precise descriptions.
Make sure you show how Africans have music and rhythm deep in their souls, and eat things no other humans eat. Do not mention rice and beef and wheat; monkey-brain is an African's cuisine of choice, along with goat, snake, worms and grubs and all manner of game meat. Make sure you show that you are able to eat such food without flinching, and describe how you learn to enjoy it—because you care.
Taboo subjects: ordinary domestic scenes, love between Africans (unless a death is involved), references to African writers or intellectuals, mention of school-going children who are not suffering from yaws or Ebola fever or female genital mutilation.
Throughout the book, adopt a sotto voice, in conspiracy with the reader, and a sad I-expected-so-much tone. Establish early on that your liberalism is impeccable, and mention near the beginning how much you love Africa, how you fell in love with the place and can't live without her.
Your African characters may include naked warriors, loyal servants, diviners and seers, ancient wise men living in hermitic splendour. Or corrupt politicians, inept polygamous travel-guides, and prostitutes you have slept with. The Loyal Servant always behaves like a seven-year-old and needs a firm hand; he is scared of snakes, good with children, and always involving you in his complex domestic dramas. The Ancient Wise Man always comes from a noble tribe (not the money-grubbing tribes like the Gikuyu, the Igbo or the Shona). He has rheumy eyes and is close to the Earth. The Modern African is a fat man who steals and works in the visa office, refusing to give work permits to qualified Westerners who really care about Africa. He is an enemy of development, always using his government job to make it difficult for pragmatic and good-hearted expats to set up NGOs or Legal Conservation Areas. Or he is an Oxford-educated intellectual turned serial-killing politician in a Savile Row suit. He is a cannibal who likes Cristal champagne, and his mother is a rich witch-doctor who really runs the country.
Among your characters you must always include The Starving African, who wanders the refugee camp nearly naked, and waits for the benevolence of the West. Her children have flies on their eyelids and pot bellies, and her breasts are flat and empty. She must look utterly helpless. She can have no past, no history; such diversions ruin the dramatic moment. Moans are good. She must never say anything about herself in the dialogue except to speak of her (unspeakable) suffering. Also be sure to include a warm and motherly woman who has a rolling laugh and who is concerned for your well-being. Just call her Mama. Her children are all delinquent. These characters should buzz around your main hero, making him look good. Your hero can teach them, bathe them, feed them; he carries lots of babies and has seen Death. Your hero is you (if reportage), or a beautiful, tragic international celebrity/aristocrat who now cares for animals (if fiction).
Bad Western characters may include children of Tory cabinet ministers, Afrikaners, employees of the World Bank. When talking about exploitation by foreigners mention the Chinese and Indian traders. Blame the West for Africa's situation. But do not be too specific.
Broad brushstrokes throughout are good. Avoid having the African characters laugh, or struggle to educate their kids, or just make do in mundane circumstances. Have them illuminate something about Europe or America in Africa. African characters should be colourful, exotic, larger than life—but empty inside, with no dialogue, no conflicts or resolutions in their stories, no depth or quirks to confuse the cause.
Describe, in detail, naked breasts (young, old, conservative, recently raped, big, small) or mutilated genitals, or enhanced genitals. Or any kind of genitals. And dead bodies. Or, better, naked dead bodies. And especially rotting naked dead bodies. Remember, any work you submit in which people look filthy and miserable will be referred to as the 'real Africa', and you want that on your dust jacket. Do not feel queasy about this: you are trying to help them to get aid from the West. The biggest taboo in writing about Africais to describe or show dead or suffering white people.
Animals, on the other hand, must be treated as well rounded, complex characters. They speak (or grunt while tossing their manes proudly) and have names, ambitions and desires. They also have family values: see how lions teach their children? Elephants are caring, and are good feminists or dignified patriarchs. So are gorillas. Never, ever say anything negative about an elephant or a gorilla. Elephants may attack people's property, destroy their crops, and even kill them. Always take the side of the elephant. Big cats have public-school accents. Hyenas are fair game and have vaguely Middle Eastern accents. Any short Africans who live in the jungle or desert may be portrayed with good humour (unless they are in conflict with an elephant or chimpanzee or gorilla, in which case they are pure evil).
After celebrity activists and aid workers, conservationists are Africa's most important people. Do not offend them. You need them to invite you to their 30,000-acre game ranch or 'conservation area', and this is the only way you will get to interview the celebrity activist. Often a book cover with a heroic-looking conservationist on it works magic for sales. Anybody white, tanned and wearing khaki who once had a pet antelope or a farm is a conservationist, one who is preserving Africa's rich heritage. When interviewing him or her, do not ask how much funding they have; do not ask how much money they make off their game. Never ask how much they pay their employees.
Readers will be put off if you don't mention the light in Africa. And sunsets, the African sunset is a must. It is always big and red. There is always a big sky. Wide empty spaces and game are critical—
You'll also need a nightclub called Tropicana, where mercenaries, evil nouveau riche Africans and prostitutes and guerrillas and expats hang out.
Always end your book with Nelson Mandela saying something about rainbows or renaissances. Because you care.
Africa is the only continent you can love—take advantage of this. If you are a man, thrust yourself into her warm virgin forests. If you are a woman, treat Africa as a man who wears a bush jacket and disappears off into the sunset.
Africa is to be pitied, worshipped or dominated. Whichever angle you take, be sure to leave the strong impression that without your intervention and your important book, Africa is doomed.
Africa is big: fifty-four countries, 900 million people who are too busy starving and dying and warring and emigrating to read your book. The continent is full of deserts, jungles, highlands, savannahs and many other things, but your reader doesn't care about all that, so keep your descriptions romantic and evocative and unparticular.
05 septembre 2006
The President has no comment
Last week CNN asked me if I thought I could get an interview with the Kenyan president to talk about the upcoming elections (scheduled for 2007). I said he had never given a single interview since he was elected but that I would try.
I really doubted he would agree – or at least that the people around him would let him speak to anyone. There is a rumor that his brain was left damaged after an accident a few years ago, and indeed when he speaks (at minor events like launching ceremonies and public holidays) he sounds completely retard.
Some friends advised me to request a meeting with Alfred Mutua, the government spokesman, who’s very accessible. Then I could talk to him and see if there was any way to do this interview. I called Mutua on his cell phone and he told me to come to his weekly briefing. He’ll have a few minutes after that for a personal chat with me.
It was the first time I was attending one of Mutua’s briefings and I had to get used to the constant shifting between 
Swahili and English. Mutua read a statement about the government’s reply to Obama’s visit, saying that the Senator had been ill informed on several issues such as corruption. “Eventhough the country still has problems, we’re making great progress”, he said. “Senator Obama chose to lecture the government and to tackle non-issues, we have to reestablish the truth today”.
After the briefing, Mutua took me to his office where I introduced myself and explained what I was doing in Kenya. I said that I had been here since January but that we had never met yet. Now I wanted to get in touch with him because the elections were approaching and I wanted his advice on dealing with the Kenyan government.
He started by telling me that “Kenyan politics are easy, except that everybody lies”. Interesting affirmation, especially coming from somebody’s whose job in to lie on behalf of the government.
- Don’t listen to what MPs say in parliament, he continued. There’s a law that says they can’t be sued for what they say in parliament, so the opposition constantly lies. And the newspapers print these lies because they are paid to do so.
- You really think they are paid or could it be because free speech is still relatively new in Kenya and some journalists are not doing their job well, not checking the facts?
- No, they are paid, I know it as a fact.
- Alright, then why don’t you step up to correct what you say is not true? President Kibaki never does interviews.
- We are not interested in that. You know the press has been bad in the past, saying that he was sick, that he was dying. We’re not interested in talking about politics. The press always wants to ask about corruption and things like that. And then you know what they do? They interview the opposition and then they get one soundbite from us “But the government is saying that…”, that’s what they do.
- Well Mister Mutua, that’s because you’re in power. That’s what the press is supposed to do, keep in check those who are in power. If you were in the opposition it would be the other way round.
- Yeah well we’re no interested in that. Let the opposition talk, we don’t care. And let me tell you, we also don’t care about our image on the international stage. We’re not asking for foreign aid anymore. Now they’re begging us to take their money, but we don’t want it!
- Are you telling me President Kibaki will never give interviews, even before the elections?
- Oh, he’ll speak, but not now, it’s too early. I wouldn’t advise him to speak now. He doesn’t need the press you know, he’ll be reelected.
- You’re confident he’ll be reelected?
- Oh yeah. He has a lot of support in the country. You know over there it’s not like in Nairobi.
- Well I would be very interested in talking to him when you think the time is right. What would he be interested in talking about?
- Not politics. He would like to talk about the programs, what he has done for Kenya, like Free Primary Education for example.
- Okay, I want to talk about this too. And also about what is his vision for Kenya if he’s reelected. You know for me, an interview about these issues is much better than no interview at all.
- Okay, I can arrange that. When the time is right. Keep in touch with me. And come back to see me when I have more time. I want to hear about your experience in Kenya.
I will definitely keep in touch with Mutua and pressurize him until he gives me this interview – if he really has the intention of letting me interview Kibaki, which I’m not sure is true.
What I think is quite sad is that he might very well be right. Kibaki could be reelected, eventhough he hasn’t fulfilled his mandate to get rid of corruption, and maybe even worse, eventhough he’s a president who refuses to talk to the press. Kibaki is no dictator, but I’m asking you: what does it say about his vision for the country and his relationship with his people if he refuses to participate in any kind of public debate?
03 septembre 2006
Adapt to your hostile environment
I recently participated to the first “hostile environment training” organized in Africa. This is the kind of training where journalists are sent by their news organizations before they go on dangerous assignments like Iraq for example. For Western journalists it is often a mandatory step, because insurance companies will not protect you unless you’ve undergone such training. But for local journalists here or for freelancers like me, your own experience is your training. And you have no insurance whatsoever.
This training had been sponsored by UNESCO, and organized in Nairobi with the help of Camerapix, the production company with which I sometimes work. Most of the journalists who were attending the training were local journalists from DRC, Sierra Leone, Chad and others. Besides me and the Camerapix team (Andrew, Mark and Farah), there was only one “international” journalist. By “international” I mean a journalist who travels to cover stories outside of his or her own country. It was a short white South-African woman who looked about 45 (although I learnt later she was only 39) and who would drink about 10 bottles of water everyday, subsequently making about 20 trips to the toilets.
A woman from an international organization for the protection of journalists was there - a tall and skinny blond woman in kaki pants. She welcomed each one of us with an iron-strong handshake that meant “I-might-be-a-tall-and-skinny-blonde-but-I’m-tough-and-I’ve-done-things-in-the-past-that-made-me-this-way-but-trust-me-you-don’t-want-to-know”.
The trainer was Roy, an ex-British army officer who had fought in Iraq before shifting careers. Now he takes tv crews to Iraq. Sometimes he also serves as bodyguard for Saudi millionaires in London.
During 2 days Roy taught us how to ensure that your hotel room is safe, how to bandage different kinds of wounds, how to avoid being kidnapped and how to behave if you are, how to avoid mines and how to recognize different types of weapons.
Most of it was common sense and not adapted to Africa. The pictures illustrating the “mob and crowds” chapter looked like they had been taken in London. The police were in full body armor and organized in a nice straight line. We were told to avoid this type of situations but if we couldn’t, to hide behind the police. “But what if there is no police?” I said. “Riots are not so organized here, they just happen. Sometimes you’re even the CAUSE of the riot. In some places, like Somalia, there’s just no police. And when there is police, they might not be on your side”. “Well then the only thing I could advise you is to stay away from a place if there’s a potential risk. Trust your gut feeling”.
It wasn’t Roy’s fault. He was a good trainer, but he didn’t now anything about Africa. He didn’t even know Kenya was a tropical region and that yes, there was malaria here.
The part that I found the most interesting was the medical training. If was too quick to be really efficient but now I know what “clearing the airways” or “capillary refill test” mean. I’m also supposed to know how to do it.
Came the point where Roy tackled what to do in case of fainting. “Has anybody here ever fainted?” he asked. Andrew, Mark and Farah started giggling like three idiots. Of course, I knew this was coming. I raised my hand “Yeah, me, I fainted” (see the post” Journey to Wajir”). “Oh, and you know why?” “Yes, it was hot and I hadn’t drunk enough water.” “That’s a typical reason”, said Roy to the rest of the class. “And did you see black spots before you fainted?” “No actually I saw everything in white”. “Yes, white or black spots, you loose sensitivity to colors when you’re about to faint”.
Roy had been trained during his army days and his medical knowledge had served him well, especially when he had to deliver his own daughter (!!).
The South-African woman was whining every time he would show a photo of a wound on his power point presentation, complaining that she couldn’t bear the sight of blood.
Actually, she was whining about all the time. We were all encouraged to share stories and anecdotes and she had many to tell. One of the highlights was the story about the “pervert-child-soldiers” in Sierra Leone who would try to touch her at roadblocks because they were drunk and she was a woman with blond hair. “Well if it bothers you so much, why don’t you go back to your natural color?” I thought. No way she was a real blonde.
She was so painfully annoying that at some point even Roy couldn’t repress an overwhelming urge to look at his watch. She just would go on and on and on about how “awfull” and “terrible” her experiences had been. I really wondered why she was doing this job, and then it occurred to me that she probably liked having people pitying her, and at the same time admire the fact that she had put herself in dangerous situations.
She was not the only one with stories to tell. A few others seemed like they needed to speak. Some sort of therapy? Or maybe they saw in the interest in other people’s eyes a justification for the way of life they had chosen - because they themselves didn’t remember why they had. I hope I’ll never be like that… I don’t think I will.
01 septembre 2006
Obama in Kenya
You might have heard that Senator Bark Obama was recently in Kenya, as part of a bigger tour of Africa. But Kenya is special for Obama as it is the country of origin of his late father. Obama’s father left Kenya to attend university in Hawai, where he met Obama’s mother. He finally settled in the States where Barak was born and later attended Yale.
I already liked Barak Obama when I was in the States. His speech at the 2004 Democratic Convention was great – it completely outshined Kerry’s. It’s also worth mentioning that Obama is the first black US senator and that he was elected with 70% of the votes. I wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up becoming the first black president of the United-States.
Here in Kenya he was welcomed as a hero, especially in his ancestral home of Kisumu. Obama’s trip only lasted a few days, but he managed to tackle all the issues that make Kenya today. He went to Kibera, met with people affected by AIDS, got tested himself, and went to Wajir to see the lasting effects of the drought. Several times over the course of his trip and above all in his closing speech at the university of Nairobi, he spoke out against corruption.
He explained to president Kibaki and in front of the cameras how the tv crew that was traveling with him had to pay a bribe to the customs officer to be able to get into the country with their equipment. Kibaki promised that the money would be returned.
Obama also spoke out against the tribal tensions that are still governing Kenyan politics. In the countryside, most people will vote for one candidate because he comes from their own tribe rather than because they agree with his program. Because President Kibaki is coming from Kenya’s largest tribe, the Kikuyus, he stands a big chance of being reelected, just like that.
Obama comes from the Luo tribe (second biggest one), and although he cannot hide it because of his name and his region of origin, he purposely didn’t bring it forward. When he visited his home region, he managed to keep the Luos within safe distance – which, judging by their reaction when their MP Raila Odinga makes a public appearance - is a difficult thing to do.
What I found impressive is how well Obama knew Kenya and Kenyan politics, especially for somebody who had only been here twice and for a few days. He had a very precise and well-informed view of the hopes and challenges of the country.
Many people here probably hope that somebody like Obama could have enough weight to influence positively the government. But in his speech at the university, Obama reminded young Kenyans that it was their responsibility to change things. Hopefully this speech would have inspired at least a few of them.
