ANGOLA (CABINDA ENCLAVE)
Angola has a small enclave, sandwiched between Congo and the
Democratic Republic of Congo and was our next stop due to it being the
best route given the roads. It was the 1st place where noone on the
truck could speak the local language (Portuguese). The price of
commodities also increased substantially. Angola is a high cost of
living.

Cabinda province is pretty and still very colonial in flavour with
colourful Portuguese-looking churches and buildings. It was quite
wealthy in the town of Cabinda and the villages appeared slightly
better off than in many other countries. Cabinda is tiny but it
possesses 90% of Angola's oil off shore. Platforms and flares litter
the view from Cabinda's coast. One oil storage depot was surrounded
by a double barbed-wire fence with signs warning of land mines in
between them. Most oil workers just stay in their compounds and go to
and from work through fear of abduction by Cabinda freedom fighters
fighting for independence. Military presence is high in the province.
Chevron (American) and Sonangol (Angolan national oil company) were
the main drillers in Angola. Locals assumed we were Americans and on
2 separate occasions, wanted to know if the rapper, Tupac is dead. He
is popular in Cabinda and the nasty rumour he is dead was upsetting!

Angola has had more war than any other country in the past 40 years. It has only had peace and stability since 2002 and is well off the tourist trail, making it another country that was fascinating to visit. We spent over 2 weeks there.

ANGOLA
To put into context what I write about my time in Angola, it is useful to know about the recent history of Angola so read my summary if you have time...

History
-Uprisings against colonialism started in 1961 but were violently crushed by the Portuguese occupiers.
-There were 3 groups fighting for independence in what became the long independence war:
1. FNLA, supported by Northern tribes, Zaire and anti-Communist Western countries.
2. MPLA, a Marxist group transcending tribes, supported by Cuba, USSR and pro-Soviet countries.
3. Unita, supported by the USA, Portuguese right wing and apartheid South Africa.
The three groups fought each other, despite all having the same objective of independence.
-Independence was given in 1975 after the fall of the Fascist regime in Portugal, ending 400 years of colonialism.
-The Angolan transitional government collapsed almost immediately and the country ended up in a civil war. Half a million Portuguese were airlifted in the biggest airlift in history. Downtown Luanda (the capital city) became something like a ghost town.
-The Angolan civil war became a cold war battleground. The MPLA controlled most of Angola by 1976 and became the governing party. Unita became the opposition party.
-US oil companies Chevron and Gulf continued to work in Angola, even in MPLA-controlled areas. This meant that Cuban soldiers often guarded US oil interests from US-armed rebels!!!
-At the end of the cold war, a peace accord was signed by both sides in 1991. Unita lost the 1992 election that the UN said was free and fair. Unita went back to war. New oil and diamond discoveries provided a new source of income for both sides.
-UN sanctions on Unita diamonds in 1998 led to their finances being depleted and they lost control of the countryside.
-The Unita leader was killed by the MPLA government in February 2002. A peace accord was signed in April 2002. Unita officials were absorbed (or bought off?) into the Angolan government and army.

My experiences
The first place we stayed in in Angola was outside a school being constructed (common sight in Angola!) in a village not far from the northern border with D R Congo.
Given Angola was the first country I could not speak the European language (which is Portuguese), I thought I may enjoy Angola less than some of the other countries. First night, this proved to be untrue. I met Joao, the traditional chief of the village we stayed in. His 97 year-old Grandmother would be the chief but she is too old and weak now. Joao was a refugee in Zaire up until the late 1980s so he spoke good French. I was pleased to see that he and the people of the village are so optimistic about the future. I guess after decades of waiting for peace, the people are bound to be enthusiastic about the future. Joao set up a fruit cooperative for the people of the village, providing them with a much needed source of income.

Travelling through Northern Angola came with a pest problem! Tsetse flies, a little larger than normal flies, cause sleeping sickness, which can be fatal. Unfortunately, they are attracted to moving vehicles and given that we have no windows, we had a lot to contend with at any one time. We passed a fair amount of time some days slapping them with flip flops, often splashing blood somewhere around the truck! Most villages have a least one "device" to kill Tsetses..they look like the one on this page: http://www.itdg.org/?id=special_appeal_tsetse Scroll down to see. Tsetses are attracted to blue and black, hence the colour of the trap. They hang from trees.

The first town we went through was N'zeto, almost derelict. It clearly had something resembling an economy once, given some fancy looking buildings, a dual carriageway through the town etc. but now, everything is crumbling and people are living in the previously grand buildings with no windows, struggling to get by. Civil war and economic collapse led to problems here! We met a crazy Portuguese expat here as he is one of the few people with a water source and we needed to refill jerry cans. He runs a seafood business and gave us a few free langoustines.

Next was Luanda, the large capital of Angola. It was built for 0.5 million people but during the civil war, it has swelled to 3.5 million. The drive into Luanda and the time I spent there will probably remain vivid in my mind in years to come due to the inequality between rich and poor. On the edge of the city was industry, all fairly new. Closer to the centre, the slums became quite a sight! Slums filled the top of the ridge overlooking much of the city. Rubbish from the slums littered the side of the ridge like nothing I have ever seen. Children scoured the rubbish, looking for anything of value. The open air sewers at the bottom of the ridge had fluorescent green water. A couple of people on our truck who have visited favelas in Rio de Janeiro said that the quality of housing in Luanda was much worse. I didn't think there could be much worse than that! As we approached the city centre, the modern, shiny skyscrapers were obvious and provided quite a disturbing contrast. I was certainly looking at the poorest people I had seen on the trip so far. The high prices of food and other commodities makes it almost impossible for the poor to live in Angola. So many people fled to Luanda during the war and there is still not enough infrastructure to engage them all in work. Back in the countryside, they can't farm their old fields as around 20 million land mines litter Angola. Angola has 70,000 land mine victims. Luanda is the world's 4th most expensive city. Even the rich have to watch their money. A 5km taxi journey costs 35 US dollars in Luanda (and that is the official set rate), a burger and chips in a fast food joint costs 10 dollars!

Driving into the centre of the city, the economic vibrancy of the at least part of this city became apparent. The centre is set around a beautiful bay. The busy port (supplying most of Angola's food) and oil refineries occupied one part of the bay. The middle of the palm tree-lined bay was the economic heart - the rich drove their posh cars from office to office. Modern skyscrapers stacked up from the front of the bay up the hill behind it. The contrast from poor slums to rich extravagence was stunning - just 100m of nothing separated the 2 areas. Security guards and police officers were everywhere, a sign that there is something of a crime problem.

We stayed on the car park of the exclusive yacht club at no cost (thank goodness) with a wonderful view of the city. The city is almost beautiful to look at. The landscape aids the city enormously; the attractive design of the economic centre was nice to stare it with the slums overlooking all of that like the bad conscience of capitalism. I really enjoyed being in the city but the real poverty of the majority was just so disturbing and I almost felt guilty for enjoying being there but the necessity to eat in the cafes of the poor etc. due to cost meant that I supported their economy at least.

Jamie, my Northern Irish travel companion went to hospital when we arrived in Luanda. He had became really dehydrated due to sitting in the sun all day for days in a row, in the wind as the truck moves along, using no sun cream and drinking very little. He stayed 3 days in hospital but wasn't diagnosed with anything. They even gave him X-rays and ultrasound scans, clearly to bump up the bill for the insurance company, which stood at over 3000 dollars in the end. Grant, our driver came down with malaria, about the 14th time for him, case no. 6 in our group. Paul, one of the "brothers" who flew from Cameroon to Kenya to meet their girlfriends, came down with malaria not long after arriving in Nairobi. That's case no. 7.

Walking around Luanda provided plenty of interest. There were a lot of shops for the wealthy, many run by Portuguese expats. A lot of expats are working in business in Luanda. The poor come in from the slums, trying to make a buck by selling goods on the street. I walked through one slum area with Andreas and Thoby. Certainly not common for Westerners to do that, I am told but still, the people were not shocked. I think Angolans are quite difficult to shock. They have been through a lot! The homes were small and makeshift, made from scrap metal and wood, as well as tarpauling. The area did have a small market on the floor in one part of the slums. As we walked up hill, an area had been totally demolished to make way for new commercial development. Prime land close to the city centre is valuable. On reaching the top of the hill, we found the Brazilian and South African embassies looking down over the slums. Maybe looking at slums makes them feel at home? Further along is a Presidential home with a raised wall in one part so that the slums are not visible from the house. Maybe the President, Dos Santos, likes to look out over his oil. Angola is the 3rd exporter of oil in Africa, providing much income for the country, although he unfortunately creams off about one eighth of all the oil money for himself. Noone really knows as the oil income is so badly accounted. In a country that ranks as the 2nd poorest in the world (after Afghanistan) on the UN human development index 2004, this is a tragedy. A few years ago, it was also said by the UN to be the worst place in the world to grow up in as a child.

For myself and Thoby, we could just not stop looking over the city from the top of the hill, just trying to somehow rationalise in our minds how supposedly intelligent and caring humans could screw things up so badly.

Further along the top of the hill was the US embassy, a huge, grand looking building that looks like I would imagine Fort Knox. Next door was the tiny French embassy, needing a lick of paint. This shows who really has influence here! When one pays for a visa for Angola, it is the same price fore all Westerners but while the Americans get 2 years for that price, everyone else gets the standard 2 months. The US, along with Portugal and Brazil have a lot of influence here.

On the way down into the city centre again, we walked down steps through a small park. Running up and down the steps were Angolan Olympic athletes. We met the Angolan 200 metres champion, training for the next Olympics. With no money and a lot of will power, I respect anyone from a developing country who does well in Olympics and other such grand sporting events.

After that, we had beers in a square and chatted to a guy who showed us the tower block he lived in next to the square as we were intrigued. That was a good decision! The block was vibrant, almost a town in itself. There were several shops inside (operated out of someone's flat mostly), people socialised in the stairwells and landings. The people traffic was busy on the stairs due to so many people living in the block. With 10 to 20 people per flat, that makes around 2000 in the whole tower block. The views from the top floor were awesome - the city at twilight with its blue sky and lights coming on was impressive.

Another day, the three of us sat in an outdoor Western-style cafe in a small London-style green square, almost hidden from the city surrounding us. A young shoe shiner wanted to clean our shoes . We all thought we should support him (feeling sad about the inequality in the city) and debated about whose shoes should be cleaned because none of us wanted cleaning. Thoby loves his dirty flip flops for the street cred the locals give him! Myself and Andreas ended up getting the lad to clean some dirt of the inside of our shoes as an excuse to give him money and frankly, to feel better about ourselves for splashing out a dollar for a coffee :-S

The same night, I went out with Thoby, Cade and Jason to a few local bars. For quite some time, lets say! We ended up being stopped 3 times by police (once by the same officers in one hour) asking to see our visas. I mean, we look like terrorists or spies. One time, we were almost hurled into the back of a police van to be taken to the station. They were angry that we had remembered to take our passports and had valid visas because it meant they had to work harder for a bribe. We managed to wriggle out of that one. A few years ago, the Angolan police were known for serious corruption and the armed rapid reaction force was known for drunkenness and shooting civilians on the spot in the name of fun. Since the end of the civil war in 2002, all has improved. I forgot to mention that a very drunk police officer climbed through the narrow window of our truck at one police checkpoint in the DR Congo, again, after a bribe. He got us all off the truck, confiscated our shovel for pooing in the bush that someone had and got really annoyed when I sat down on the floor to show we were in no rush and passive.

Jamie left hospital with the insurance company picking up his 3000 plus dollar bill, having had X-rays and ultrasound scans for some unknown reason - perhaps just trying to earn themselves a bit more money? They failed to diagnose Jamie with anything but he recovered anyway with rest. Jamie was never informed of the results of a test that they sent to Johannesburg. They had his email address but never bothered to tell him anything.

Leaving Luanda, we passed through some rich suburbs - all the homes had high walls with barbed wired, CCTV cameras and security guards. You can make your own interpretations about that. Out of the city for maybe 300km, the sides of the road were littered with drinks cans. I mean seriously littered - we must have past several tens of thousands of cans. Unlike the rest of Africa, Angola does not use a reusable bottle system for drinks.

The scenery became more arid and dry, the further south we went. There were a few places where we saw salt collection in action. Areas of land were flooded with salt water and then blocked off with small mounds so that the water can evaporate and salt is left. After a climb in altitude, the climate became greener and a little hilly. There were pretty traditional villages. We passed through a minefield clearance zone and a Halo Trust office before we bush camped. The Halo Trust is a charity Princess Diana supported before she died. She made a famous visit to Angolan mine clearance fields despite advice not to go.

The scenery then became more arid again and we travelled along rocky mountainous roads, which gave the truck a hard test but it coped well! There was no traffic on the road at all. Apparently, the road hasn't been used for around 30 years. Almost noone lived in the area as water was seriously scarce. We did see one small girl running along the road with a machete in hand. That was all the life there pretty much apart from noisy insects.

That night, my tent partner Chris, or Little Christ as he is known (I am Big Christ!), was sick several times and had a fever. I had stomach cramps.

We continued along the same road. The area was still barren but attractive. Soon, we were on the flat and eventually on tarmac roads except where the road was diverted due to land subsiding and the road falling away. Chris and I were still not well, I had a low temperature (36 degrees) and stomach cramps with no appetite. Chris had a high temperature.

The following morning, far from a Doctor in war-torn Angola, Chris started malaria treatment - Quinimax pills. He was case no. 8. I developed bad diarrhoea - the kind where you just can't hold much in for long! Others were feeling a little rough in one way or another too.

We were soon on a brand new road, heading to the next city, Lubango. Amelia suddenly turned really ill, just half an hour after being in the most jovial mood of anyone. She was sick and had a high fever.

We neared Lubango and passed through some beautiful forested mountains, a waterfall and attractive rocky areas. Amelia developed convulsions (like an epileptic fit) due to the high fever. We all froze in worry and we got to Lubango within about 20 minutes and took her into the public hospital. She was lucky we were so close to a hospital for the first time in about 3 days. They gave her adrenaline injections, I believe to stop the convuslions. Her malaria tests showed up negative 3 times but the Doctor diagnosed her with malaria anyway and the tests often produce false negatives. So Amelia is case no. 9.

The hospital was seriously depressing. Everywhere was white, pretty silent and everyone had a terribly somber face. People seemed like zombies or something. I think Prozac should be given on entry to that place! Five of us got malaria tests. Two showed up positive the following morning - Chris and myself. I was case no. 10. I took artesunate pills over 5 days, which nipped the malaria in the bud. I had perhaps as mild symptoms as possible for malaria. Diarrhoea, stomach cramps and fatigue was all for me. No serious fever. Four more people had malaria tests at the hospital. None showing up positive but Maree had a lot of symptoms and they diagnosed her with malaria anyway (case no. 11). Amelia's treatment, overnight stay and 9 other people's malaria tests and time with a Doctor and nurses was all FREE! This is because the national oil company, Sonangol pays for the treatment of everyone at this and a few other hospitals! Good, eh?

One particular nurse saw that Amelia was in the hospital and given Amelia is white, she called a Canadian nurse who is part of a team building another hospital. The Canadian came in and told Amelia that she should stay with a Dutch couple she works with. They know many Doctors so they can visit her for free. Amelia and Maree stayed at the home of a wonderful Dutch couple and got lots of attention from well-trained Doctors.

We filled up the jerry cans at the site of the hospital that the Canadian lady and Dutch couple are involved in building just outside Lubango. The hospital buildings there are comparable with anything Western. The 3 work for Samaritans Relief. The hospital is to open as soon as the government gives authorisation. Noone will be turned away - people will be means tested. The poorest will get free treatment. In time, the hospital will be huge. There are plans for a University college to train Doctors as there is no such facility in Angola. A helicopter pad is eventually expected too! Three such hospitals are running in Sudan, paid for by Samaritans Relief but they were recently ransacked by armed gunmen.

Looking over Lubango is a statue of Christ, similar to that one in Rio, Brazil, and Lisbon, Portugal. The 3 statues face different directions but all point to a spot in the Atlantic Ocean. The Lubango statue is perhaps one of the less visited, don't you think? I have some good pictures of the statue and the 2 Christs on the truck (Africans have problems saying "Chris" so we end up being Christ!).

We tried to depart from Lubango once Amelia was much better but 2 hours down the road and she developed convulsions again. Back we went. Sam, the son of a vet, knows how to inject cows. He requested some adrenaline from the hospital in case of another problem. He jabbed Amelia in the backside, bringing her round. We had no choice but to leave her at the home of the Dutch couple and Amelia flew to Nairobi to rest there until we arrived in 2 weeks.

Leaving Lubango again, Frank came down with malaria. That's no. 12.

After Angola, we wanted to enter Zambia but the land mines in the east of Angola are many and it is very easy for a vehicle to veer off the poor roads and blow up. Didn't sound too good to us. This is why we headed to Namibia. The roads to Namibia were poor. At one lunchtime, we stopped right by where hundreds of bombs and shells had been burned in the aftermath of the war. Playtime for some! It was there that I came across some young cattle herders with whom I communicated with expressions if you get what I mean. I took a photo of 4 of the 5. They were nervous as they did not really know what I was doing even though I gave off a good impression :-S Seeing the digital photo made them ecstatic. The 5th boy soon wanted a photo. I also gave them a toy car that cost me about 30 pence. They were so grateful I think they were near to crying.

Another 50km or so down the road, we came across a field with around 20 former army vehicles: tanks, armourmed personnel carriers and amphibians. More play time! Some people were now living in this area, almost using the vehicles as a wind break. I camped right next to a tank that night too.

Before entering Namibia, we stopped in a place that had a cinema (building that plays DVDs with a small entry fee) made from used glass bottles cemented together! Innovative! Last stop for us was to fill all 3 diesel tanks we have - a total of 1000 litres. At 26 pence per litre, it's very cheap. In 2 years, the fuel cost to do the Trans Africa trip has overall doubled.

DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC OF CONGO (Former Zaire)
or should I say UNdemocratic Republic of Congo???

First impressions on crossing into DRC, as I will call the country:
- A lot of beer, including the legendary Primus beer.
- Very inefficient pickpocketers at the border. Some child tried to pickpocket me but was so loud and useless, that I noticed. The pocket only contained a pen, some scrap paper and a cheap watch anyway. The same happened to someone else. The disheartening thing was that it happened as I was talking to a group of around 10 adults who all saw the boy trying to pickpocket me but did and said nothing. They wouldn't point out which it was afterwards! Sad! Everyone at the border was after money some way or another. Of course, people are always after our money as "white men are obviously rich" but here, there was absolutely no welcome for us.
- Donkey oil pumps (oil pumps on land that look like a donkey's head moving up and down as they pump). DRC has oil in this small, coastal area.

Into DRC, Helen (aka Kippy) from Australia but living in Swansea, Wales, for 16 years, came down with malaria (case no. 5). She was violentely sick, had a fever and diarrhoea. Unfortunately, we could not get a Doctor for her so she had to grin and bear it. We had malaria treatment pills but she was holding off for the moment. When we bush camped, I walked into the local village, as I often do, and found a nurse. It was lucky that a village of only 60 people had a nurse among them. He put on his white coat and stethoscope and came across the long grass to see Kippy in her tent, diagnosed her with malaria, jabbed her in the bum and told her to start treatment.
I chatted to local youths from the village who gathered to watch us for a couple of hours as we ate etc. outside the truck. They were aged 13 to 23 and were extemely shy. I could hardly get a word out of them. They did speak French but were excessively shy. They told me they see just 10-12 vehicles with white people in per year going down the "main" road that passes their village. They considered this to be a lot.

Passing through numerous small villages as we passed along the road was great fun. In one village, we filled our jerries cans from their water pump. I remember the smallest child running around with his toy, a sardine tin with sticks and bottle tops to make wheels. He pulled this with some string. Seeing sweet African children playing so simply, honestly and happily is wonderful to see. Driving through all villages, children and sometimes women would come running to our truck, begging loudly. In one village, around 40 to 60 children gathered by our truck. One older boy passed me a younger boy who was kicking in the air and screaming. When I picked him up and held him in the air, everyone cheered and he suddenly started laughing and smiling, realising that he is not going to be eaten by the white man and actually becomes really popular to be the one with all the attention! The sudden change was quite dramatic. Everywhere I go in Africa, I wave at the staring locals or shake their hands if we are stationary. It is pretty much my job to do this. If I haven't noticed some locals staring at our truck, people tell me to go to do my duty. Just a respectful handshake and smile, a few polite words exchanged etc. can do wonders for people's opinion of, well, the white race. In isolated small villages with uneducated, illiterate people, I/we are sometimes the first white people they have ever met/touched/spoken to. Children often like to touch us. In the UK, one would have to back off for fear of child abuse allegations but in Africa, it's fine to pick them up and play with them even if you've never met their parents and you're in the middle of nowhere!

We came to the Congo river near which we drove. The river's source is in Burundi in the east and flows into the Atlantic. It is apparently 14 miles wide in its widest place! We slept in an abandoned village on night, right by the Congo river. It was mosquito-infested. There were so many mosquitoes, you could hear them almost constantly, could feel them biting despite the fact you had covered yourself with DEET. Even going to the toilet meant you had to wave your hand around your bum to stop them biting your backside. I believe this night led to problems for many, some days on!

The only major city we stopped in, in DRC was Matadi. Approaching Matadi, we were driving through the hills and had a fantastic view of red and brown Matadi that sprawls up a hillside alongside the river Congo. We had to cross an impressive-looking toll bridge to get to the city ( http://www.ihi.co.jp/ihi/gaikyo/enkaku/photo/photo09-e.html) that we were not supposed to photograph as soldiers spot people doing so on the bridge. 2 years ago, 2 cameras of passengers on another truck were confiscated by military here.

We stayed in the beautiful courtyard of a Catholic "Sisters of Charity" convent in the city. As we woke in the morning, infants were dancing around our tents as the courtyard turns into a school playground in the morning. The small children danced and sang about their country as part of their morning routine. A primary and secondary school was adjacent - we created quite a stir for them too. White people in Matadi don't really exist! Walking around the city the following day generated perhaps more stares than almost anywhere else, which is something to be experienced! Sometimes this creates a celebrity-like atmosphere but sometimes a flat "oh my God, what is that white thing?" atmosphere.

We camped in the DRC/Angola border village of Lufu on our final night in the DRC, which meant we spent plenty of time with the locals. We were kind of sleeping in their village square. This village had a UN refugee "post" for Angolan refugees in the DRC who are returning. They talk to the UN official at the border post, get advice, a good meal and maybe some money before returning to their homeland.

We didn't see so much of the DRC given that it's Africa's 2nd biggest country. It has ongoing conflict in the North East, very far from where we were and has had a civil war that has been the dubbed the first pan-African war. It has a fascinating history that I have summarised below in bullet points. For those not interested, you can sleep now!

History of Belgian Congo/ Zaire/ DR Congo
- Henry Morgan Stanley went along the Congo river in the late 19th century and persuaded over 400 local chiefs to hand over power to the Belgian King, Leopold II. This took 5 years. The area became known as the Belgian Free State, which is 75 times larger than Congo. It became the personal property of Leopold II.
- Ivory, palm oil, timber, copper and rubber were the main income earners for Leopold.
-To gain these commodities, a brutal regime was the order of the day. Chiefs earned commission on what they could gain for Leopold. Locals were routinely abused. The "chicotte" became the symbol of Leopold's power. Chicotte is hippo hide used to flay victims. Locals who did not work hard enough or at all were also mutilated, killed or imprisoned.
-Life under this regime is written in Joseph Conrad's book, "The Heart of Darkness".
-The Belgian people, unhappy with the abuses, took control of the state from Leopold in 1908.
-In 23 years of Leopold's rule, the population of the state fell from around 30 million to just 20 million!
The Belgian Congo perhaps suffered more than any other part of Africa from colonialism.
-On independence in 1960, the Belgian King, Badouin, said "Leopold II was a genius" at the independence dinner.
-There is no mention of the abuses in the Brussels museum dedicated to Belgian rule of the Congo.

Independence
-By 1959, just 3 of the 1400 civil servants in the Congo were Congolese. Just 30 Congolese in the whole country had been to University. Only 136 Congolese had finished secondary school in 1959. This did not bode well for good governance in the future.
-Patrice Lumumba was the man who led the independence movement in the 1950s and he became President in 1960.
-Lumumba was seen as too pro-Soviet so Belgium and the USA overthrew him and replaced him with Mobutu, the army chief.
-Mobutu renamed the country Zaire and spent more than 3 decades, wrecking it.
He gave himself many names including:
"The cock who leaves no hen untouched"
"All powerful warrior who because of endurance and inflexible will to win, will go from conquest to conquest leaving fire in his wake".
-There was much political instability at this time with Lumumba behind bars. Lumumba's supporters carried on causing trouble anyway.
-Lumumba was shot dead in a bush one night, which led to worldwide demonstrations. The Belgian government was involved and was worried that their involvement might be uncovered. The following night, the killers came back to dig up the body and dissolve it in sulphuric acid.
-Ludo de Witte, a Dutch journalist, following investigative work in the year 2000, forced Belgium to open an investigation into its involvement in the killing. The government admitted a share of the blame for the killing in 2001.
-Film called "Lumumba" is around...review: http://www.nbufront.org/html/X-PressYourself/LumumbaMovieReview.html
-Mobutu looted Zaire for 32 years but was supported by the USA as he was anti-Soviet. Zaire was also good for the US diamond industry. Reagan and Bush Senior were close friends with Mobutu.
-In 1982, Reagan, as CIA Director, said to Mobutu in a public speech "I have come to appreciate the dynamism that is so characteristic of Zaire and Zairians and to respect your [Mobutu's] dedication to fairness and reason."
-"At least he kept the country together" is what Congolese say of Mobutu these days as they have had war ever since.
-In 1997, Mobutu was toppled by a rebel soldier, Laurent Kabila, with the help of the armies of Uganda and Rwanda. Kabila renamed the country the Democratic Republic of Congo.
-Kabila refused to close the refugee camps in the east where Hutu Interhamwe militia, responsible for Rwanda's genocide of 1994, were reforming. Uganda and Rwanda switched allegiances and supported anti-Kabila rebels. Angola and Zimbabwe fought on the side of Kabila. Other countries (I forget which) were also involved in the consequent civil war that led to 2.5 million deaths.
-Kabila was assassinated in 2000. Hhis son, Joseph Kabila, took power.
-Kabila Junior says he wants peace and has launched a power-sharing government with 4 Vice-Presidents from different factions.
-Elections in the summer of 2006 will be the first in the DRC for over 40 years and will involve the UN's biggest ever election monitoring mission.
-Fighting continues in the North East of DRC. The country remains divided, crippled and corrupt. Soldiers turn into armed robbers at night, smuggling diamonds etc. Rich businessmen fly into the DRC to do dealings that are illegal but very possible with bribes of officials. The country, which could be so wealthy, is still being raped, just as the indigenous people suffer.

CONGO
"We advise against all but essential travel to the Congo outside the
main cities of Brazzaville and Pointe Noire" is the current advice on
travel to the Congo by the British government. This invalidates most
travel insurance policies but we all got special permission to be
covered as long as we give our route to the insurance company and
register with the British Embassy.

Congo has had some troubled recent history, which has led to much
corruption and a slide towards anarchy, especially as policemen and
soldiers were not always paid. They would go about making their money
through corruption instead. Things are much improved now but it is
still known for police, customs and soldiers to take whatever they
want from your vehicle for example. We keep our luggage under our
seats. We used spare seats to screw down a wooden board underneath
where we kept our cameras and alcohol. We claimed the board to be a
floor due to the presence of the diesel tank underneath when searched.

On arrival in Congo, it was raining a lot, making the mud roads very
slippery and hence quite dangerous as the road is not always flat - it
wouldn't be too hard to slide into a bank. We went a short distance
and arranged to camp in a village. The reaction from the locals was
one of surprise. White people coming through their village is an
extremely rare occurrence. We knew all of the tourists in the area at
the time as people tend to stay in the same place when overlanding in
central Africa (everyone looks at the same website for advice). Only 2
overlanding trucks have been through the area in the past few years.
Meanwhile, there are mor like 2 per day crossing into Kenya for
example. The locals were friendly and fascinated by us - something we
are very much used to.

I chatted to several people in the village, including:
*Gervys, the teacher. He is an intelligent man and the only English
speaker in the village. We gave him some literature in English because
he never gets the chance to read anything in English. He was also
frustrated with the lack of materials to help him teach. He is
passionate about his profession but he is pretty much alone, trying to
prop up education in that area. The school was brick-built with
wooden benches, holes in the roof, letting rain in. The only teaching
aid was a black board.

*School boy (forgot his name), aged 15. He offered me some gazelle
that he is living off for the week. He has chunks of gazelle on brown
paper, which he keeps in a cupboard in the corner of his room. He
wanted to sell it to us as he knew we had no fresh food (we have
tinned food to deal with those times).

*Gildas. Intelligent guy and friend of the teacher. He told me that
the local MP, to get re-elected, bought his village among many others
in the constituency, a huge satellite dish. In this village, it stuck
out like a sore thumb. It had been given to the bar owner and the
community comes to watch TV when they like. Gildas was furious that
the MP abused the "lack of intelligence" of most of the population to
win votes. It's not as though times are good when the school roof has
holes in it and the road is so poor that only about 1 truck per day
uses the road in each direction. To get to a hospital, one has to
wait for a truck and hitch a lift, long distance.

Gildas also told me about the civil war that blighted Congo. This is
all his personal account and is one side of the story.
1992 - Congo elected Lissouba, a Southerner. Gildas believes things
started to get better and address the lack of investment in the south
after years of domination by Northerners. Lissouba looked after
Congolese interests instead of those of oil companies.

1997 - Sassou-Nguesso seized power in a coup in 1997. Gildas claims
Sassou, a Northerner, was supported in his coup by Gabon and France!
Quite a claim! I do not know whether this is true. French and
Gabonese companies supporting Sassou's political campaign might be
more true! Elf oil company was accused of helping Sassou who looks
after Elf's interests. Elf's Chief Executive and 37 top officials
were tried in Paris in 1993 due to corruption and creaming off profits
for themselves.

There was civil war in 1993 (Sassou's militia fought against Lissouba
taking oil profits for himself), 1997 (due to the coup) and 1999 to
2001. There is now peace in every region as the Southerners have a
minister just for themselves within the cabinet. If a Southerner
became President again, the Northerners would get a minister. Every
region except the Pool region accept the settlement. The Pool people
are supported militarily by people of the same tribe over the border
in the Democratic Republic of Congo. Now, it seems peace for the Pool
region could also be reached. We did not need to travel through the
Pool region so went into entirely peaceful areas only, hence the
British government's advise being a little too cautious. The
Congolese laughed when I explained the advice to them. The political situation is still not perfect though. In the 2002 elections, Sassou held elections that were described as "seriously flawed" by international observers as they were so rigged. Sassou told people "Vote for me or hell" referring to the alternative to electing him was another bloody war!

At the customs office that we were obliged to go to the following day,
there was a truck search. One officer found the camera box of 2
brothers from our trip who flew to Kenya to meet their girlfriends.
They wanted to know where the camera is and were quite mad to not find
it. Explaining that it's in Kenya was not good enough for them!

The landscape as we made progress into Congo consisted of light green
rolling hills that remind me of parts of Wales or England. Further
in, the surroundings were forested. Logging trucks were a menace to
us in that area as their brakes failed on dangerous mud roads that
went up and down through the mountains or in one case, stalled and
rolled backwards down the hill somewhat. One passenger truck had 2
workers walking next to it with blocks to put under the wheels in case
of roll back. The truck was so bad that it could only move at walking
pace.

One bush camp was near a river (Niarey). As usual, we attracted an
audience of locals, who congregate around us, depite the fact we are a
km or so from any home, and stare for hours on end, discussing among
themselves how we live. They would all be glued to people who would
come with beers or soft drinks from the truck - a luxury they have to
save for, often. As usual, it was just me talking to them. One boy
had a scooby doo t-shirt but had no idea what scooby doo is. Clothes
come from the West en masse it seems, given the words you see on
clothes all over Africa. Locals would tell me that they "need" beer
or "need" a cigarette. I certainly had none to share with them and
would object to their word "need". I can't go begging friends to give
things to them. This is a common occurrence and hurts because you
know it's unjust that they are so poor but simply cannot give to
everyone who asks, especially those you don't know, i.e. people who
you have shared just a few sentences with. Africans have little
privacy. Everyone in each community know all about everyone else. It
is absolutely fine for them to go to observe what others are doing, in
this case, us. In this situation, it is frustrating they luxuries are
under their nose but they can't have them. If we weren't there, their
evening would not have been spent thinking about what they do not have
but enjoying themselves with friends, despite lack of money. I try to
lure people away from our truck if I see them set on staring for hours
on end.

Congolese children on previous days had run after the truck for up to
3 kilometres, with their hand out, desperate for a gift. People in
every (no exaggeration) village, held their hands out and normally
shouted "money" or gestured for a cigarette or beer.

It was in this village that a villager killed a 2-3 metre long snake
in the bush and brought it on to the road. They intended to eat it
later.

The only city we visited in Congo was Pointe Noire, the economic
capital and coastal city. The final part of our journey there was on
the Brazzaville to Pointe Noire road. It was busy and horrendous.
The mud road, the main road between the country's 2 principal cities,
was full of holes and huge puddles as trucks came along spluttering,
loaded full of passengers standing up in the back.

Pointe Noire had little obvious wealth given it is the economic
capital. It was full of poor plus a few people benefiting from the
off-shore oil industry and some Lebanese business people trying to
benefit from a hoped improvement in the economy in time. We stayed in
the car park of the yacht club for 2 nights. I walked around the city
with Thoby and Andreas, meeting many friendly people who were very
curious what we were doing. We were targeted by pickpocketers in the
market but were warned about them and being very used to being weary,
we spotted the people on both occasions. The 3 of us work together
well, are assertive, streetwise and are aware of scams and a lot of
tactics to lead people into situations putting people in danger.

Among the more "different" people we met in Pointe Noire include the
national rock and roll dancing champion who calls himself God, and
teenage prostitutes following us around.

GABON
The first thing that struck me when entering Gabon was the prevalence
of posters of the President, Africa's longest serving leader, Omar
Bongo, who has been in power since 1967. The posters on people's
homes were from the 2005 Presidential election. Bongo, originally
from Congo (a border town now part of Gabon) runs a stable, rich
country, which is quite the opposite to other Central African
countries, which have had more strife than any other region of Africa
since independence. The only civil unrest in Gabon was around 1990
when oil prices were low, hitting this oil rich country pretty hard.
Multiparty democracy was introduced. There was some fraud in
elections but there is genuine opposition allowed now and Bongo was
reelected in free and fair elections in 2005.

Gabon has a lot of oil for a country of just 1.4 million people of
which over half are immigrants from other parts of Africa and Western
countries. In Libreville, the capital, a lot of Western oil workers
live the high life and speed around the streets in luxury 4x4s. It is
also an important country for France and is well within the French
sphere of influence as Elf, a French company, extracts much of
Gabonese oil. Elf has been involved in much corruption with the
Gabonese government. There were famous Paris court cases a few years
ago, which caused a stir in France but in Gabon, noone really blinked
an eyelid.

My time in Gabon was spent in the capital, Libreville, and in the
provinces, which consisted almost entirely of rainforest. The
provincial rainforest scenery was attractive and teeming with wildlife
of which we saw and heard a small amount. Again, there were plenty of
live, dead and dried dead monkeys. Logging is a major industry for
Gabon as well as its rainforests have been relatively untouched until
recent years. The provincial people live in traditional housing as in
other African countries but the people appear to be slightly better
off than others. Everyone seemed to be well-fed, had no holes in
their clothes etc. but its hard to say without actually speaking to
them and looking at statistics to find out! I am aware that the oil
money doesn't filter through a great deal to people outside of the
Libreville elite but just before election time, Bongo goes on a
national spending spree, building more health centres, schools, roads
etc., benefiting the whole population.

Before Libreville, we crossed the equator twice. Our water did
different things when we got to plugholes. Libreville is still in the
northern hemisphere.

Libreville was a cultural shock to us. The seafront centre of the
city is very Western and has a large white population. Tall buildings
(some with giant Bongo posters on the side), expensive wine cellars,
banks, casinos, bars, hotels, supermarets and a posh French embassy
were all to be found here. The city is expensive though, partly
because there is little food grown in the country due to the provinces
consisting of rainforest rather than fertile farming land that we saw
in Cameroon. We stayed for 5 nights (waiting for Angola visas) in the
gardens of a small beach front hotel in the most expensive part of the
city, just 100 metres from where an Air Gabon plane had crashed 18
months ago. The district consisted of huge houses, mostly those of
Ambassadors from other countries, rich oil workers and the President
himself. His extravagent house was paid for by the Moroccan King.
Morocco and Gabon have some business deals together. Moroccan and
French troops numbering about 500 are employed to protect Bongo.

On the 1st full day in Libreville, Australian Cade was really ill with
bad diarrhoea and high fever. He went to the main hospital in the
city and was diagnosed with malaria (no.3). English Sam, feeling
rough for 2-3 days now, also had a malaria test, which turned out
positive...he was case number 4. The accident and emergency
department was fresh, clean and efficient, giving us confidence. I
was there for translation duties again. Cade was transferred to a
grubby ward. His drip was turned off while being transferred, which
seemed a little strange. On arrival, he was fainting in the
wheelchair but nurses were unconcerned and would just walk past with a
plain face when I protested. The ward had rubbish blowing in from the
open bin outside but he got a room of his own, mainly due to the fact
there weren't many patients (3 beds in his room). The toilet didn't
flush so Cade, very weak, was supposed to flush it with a bucket. He
couldn't manage it, which angered the nurse. To take his temperature,
we had to go to buy a thermometer from the pharmacy. For him to
drink, we had to buy him a glass. In case of eating, we had to get
him a plate and knife and fork! The many drugs and drips they needed
had to be bought from the pharmacy ourselves. The nurses couldn't
really get the drip right but the Doctor who actually was good, sorted
that out for us. Andi and Grant, our experienced trip leader and
driver, thought the conditions were unacceptable and were convinced
that there would be a better hospital in the city. Those of us who
took him to the hospital just thought it was standard for Africa. The
Canadian embassy, represting Australians again, arranged for Cade's
transfer to a Moroccan-run polyclinic hospital, which is owned by the
President's wife. I have never seen such a nice hospital in my life.
Even nicer than private hospitals in the UK (apparently!). Cade's
room was attractive, had an electric adjustable bed and TV. The
doctors and nurses were polite and well-trained. They changed much of
what had been arranged at the previous hospital. The duty manager was
so concerned that we had no SIM card for a mobile to call the hospital
to see how he was that she lent us one! Even the lighting in the
hospital had much thought put in to it, appropriate to the mood and
requirements in every part and complementing the decor!

Meanwhile, back in the old hospital, I was left to get some
reimbursement, dealing with some of the rudest people I have ever met.
I was left speechless by the snarling and unpleasant, unhelpful,
"sorry, can't do" administrative staff. Without going into too many
details, it was a bureaucratic nigthmare that took me many hours of
trying to politely discuss in French. Even the manager of the
hospital was incredibly rude. When we finally got the ticket to
collect money from the cash desk, the receptionist lifted up the cash
box and shouted that there is no money because it's after midday,
flapping the cash box in my face. The reason, we got there after
midday was because the hospital manager was 40 minutes late with our
appointment! I promise you, I don't exaggerate, I have never met such
unhelpful and rude people. It was not all but many members of staff.
I was asking for nothing that was not standard procedure.

With the rest of my time in Libreville, I visited a lot of the city
and met some interesting people in Libreville including:
* An American USAID employee who was visiting many African countries
to work out the scale of corruption in each one so that he can report
to the US government who then work out how and if to give aid.
* A Beninese teacher who teaches Spanish and is a reporter for
Canadian Broadcasting Corporation International radio. I spent the
day with him and 2 friends, visiting the Libreville suburbs, where the
majority live and benefit little from the oil profits. We also got
him an interview with a Canadian girl who we met, who works for a
medical charity in Libreville.

ATMOSPHERE ON THE TRUCK
From here on, the atmosphere on the truck has been really pleasant
with everyone taking a place, especially with regards to banter, in
the group. We became conhesive, there was little annoyance and no egg
shells to avoid treading on. Happy, happy from here on.

P.S. Something I forgot about Nigeria...
British and US citizens pay for visa $100
Irish: $76
German (and others in EU) $56
Canadian: $55
Australian and NZ: $20
......British foreign policy that I don't like, I pay for!