Showing posts with label literature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label literature. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 12, 2026

African Travel Narratives

I've been thinking of The Traveler's Africa; the view from the Torrid Zone. Some readings beyond Equiano's Travels taken from my bookshelf (oh, and a playlist...)

African travel narratives



Classics of the Genre

  • The Modern Traveller by Hilaire Belloc
  • Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad
  • Travels in West Africa by Mary Kingsley
  • Black Mischief by Evelyn Waugh
  • Travels with my Aunt by Graham Greene
From savage satire to the impressionistic to the documentary.

Hilaire Belloc's satirical eye is sublime. Nothing escapes his immaculate rendering of the essence of thousands of travel narratives. From antiquity to, say, the great explorers tomes (Mungo Park's travels in the interior) to near-contemporaries like Stanley and Livingstone. All that and more are highlighted in The Modern Traveller.

He dismantles the kind of writing lionized in the prose of empire by Kipling and others. Where we'd now say God, Gold and Glory, Belloc straightforwardly put it as Blood and Sin in vicious light verse. The cover by Basil Blackwood is apt. All the tropes of travel writing about Africa are outlined, the mystery at its heart, and all that made it evocative. Writing at the height of empire in the wake of the British victory at the battle of Omdurman in 1898, there is much to deflate in Victorian triumphalism and he sets about it avidly. The Modern Traveller is his early masterpiece.

Oh! Africa, mysterious Land - the modern traveller



The Journalistic Impulse


The journalistic impulse weighs heavily on travel narratives and Africa gives great material for the genre.

The travel writer ofen emerges jaded from the encounter with Africa despite the initial optimism. The people steal your heart but also destroy you. You might start to merely document but hallucinations often follow, such is the burden of the heart of darkness. Joseph Conrad, of course, had great influence on popular perceptions of Africa, and for good reasons: metaphors and urgent storytelling will always strike a chord.

It would take more than half a century and Chinua Achebe's own urgent storytelling to begin to change the perspective and to show that African voices need not be drowned out in the travel narratives and treated as mere backdrop. Indeed, they can lead the way.

A Burnt Out Case is probably Graham Greene's most focused entry, a lush hatchet job of the Conrad template, but Travels with my Aunt is his purest distillation of travel writing. An entertainment, perhaps, it captures the fecklessness and the roving eye. The kind of observed behavior that Evelyn Waugh savages with vicious fun in Black Mischief.

Contrast with the relatively sober yet similarly roving eye of Mary Kingsley. Hers is rooted in her search for botanical specimens but there is a richness to what she uncovers in the process. She was genuinely interested in the place she traveled to and the culture of the people she encountered. Her observations make for a treasure trove for historians and sociologists alike.

In a more literary bent in the 1920s, consider André Gide's Travels in the Congo and a delightful memoir Then I Saw the Congo by Grace Flandrau. The book covers tend to follow a distinct pattern.
  • The Shadow of the Sun by Ryszard Kapuściński
  • Report in Africa by Oden Meeker
  • Call Africa 999 by John Peer Nugent
  • Stringer by Anjan Sundaram

(I hesitate to brand Kapuściński as a journalist, he was so much more. The journalistic impulse is, rather, what I'm getting at when it comes to the tenor of his writings. Denis Johnson in Seek treads much of the same terrain as Kapuściński but with a stronger punch).

How to take to the tropics is a delicious survey of travel writing in Africa by Oden Meeker. His and John Peer Nugent books are recent discoveries, wide ranging as befits these restless souls. Anjan Sundaram's Stringer follows Conrad by way of investigative journalism, archetypal of the mold of journalists that have had to report on conflict (e.g Fergal Keane).

African Perspectives


The Wife has long taught an African Travel Narratives course; we, each, have our favorites and trade new finds as we discover them. Our modern canon:
  • An African in Greenland by Tété-Michel Kpomassie
  • By the Sea, Desertion and Paradise by Abdulrazak Gurnah
  • Everyday is for the thief by Teju Cole
  • A Stranger's Pose by Emmanuel Iduma
A semester length course will cover readings in many styles and from many perspectives. The ones we tend to find most engaging highlight the African perspective. And things do change once African voices are in the mix.

An African in Greenland is revelatory, Tété-Michel Kpomassie's story is so engaging, he grabs you with the force of his personality, his curiousity and his drive.

Abdulrazak Gurnah, of course, in his brilliant body of work inverts the perspective and the frame that Conrad may have set and, with this freedom, makes it his own. I've lost count of how many copies of By the Sea I've had to buy as I keep recommending and gifting it to others. I'm thankful that the academy have rightly rewarded him and I no longer need to be on the street team.

A novel like Tayeb Salih's Season of Migration to the North contains a lot travel observations but doesn't read as a traditional travel narrative and indeed there is far more sophistication in it.

Our blog era has produced two perfect little books in the genre. Teju Cole aims for close observation in Everyday is for the Thief while Emmanuel Iduma goes for the poetic in A Stranger's Pose. They are both lyrical writers with dauntingly sharp eyes.

It's fun exercise to contrast, say, The Moor's Account by Laila Lalami with Mimi and Toutou's Big Adventure: The Bizarre Battle of Lake Tanganyika by Giles Foden. The one written from the ground up and periphery, the other taken with main character energy.

And the narratives ripped from archival material carry a heavier burden that the typical travel dispatch, I'm thinking of The Two Hearts of Kwasi Boachi by Arthur Japin or say Ama: A Story of the Atlantic Slave Trade by Manu Herbstein - there's no lightness to be found in the slave trade or the earlier patterns of exchange in the colonial era.

I never quite got into the former Peace Corps memoirs although I keep reading them for what they reveal despite themselves (and George Packer's clear-eyed Village of Waiting - and Central Square which I loved, doesn't excuse his later hubris see: Iraq war).

Still I much prefer Packer over Paul Theroux's Dark Star Safari. And in the same vein, I favor Graham Greene over V.S. Naipaul.

I also can't resist missionary and explorer narratives, even as I read them in the same vein, mostly for what is left unsaid or for the people that linger in the background. Sometimes, however, you find gems in second hand bookstores: Cowboy Boots in Darkest Africa by Dr Bill Rice is an all-time favorite. But that one, like Belloc's Modern Traveller, deserves its own tale.

There's all that and more in The Traveler's Africa. And to close, a cautionary note to the would-be readers of travel narratives; not all is as it seems:
T
for the Genial Tourist, who resides
In Peckham where he writes Italian Guides

Moral
Learn from this information not to cavil
At slight mistakes on books on foreign travel

A Moral Alphabet by Hilaire Belloc

What are your favorite Africa travel narratives?


Ayuba Suleiman Diallo



African Travel Narratives, a playlist


A soundtrack for this note (spotify version)

Bonus beats: Searching by Roy Ayers

cecil rhodes astride africa From Cairo to Cape Town



See also Types and Faces and The Stereotype

File under: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Writing log: November 2, 2025

Tuesday, March 18, 2025

Literature Only

Literature only
Life vest under your seat

Literature only
Parental advisory

Literature only, put aside your childish ways
Literature only, this is grown folks' business

Literature only reads our manifesto
We try harder, even with no bells and whistles
From spare and unadorned prose through the densely elliptical
The experience is sometimes said to be life changing and mystical

Literature only, storytelling is our mission
Your franchises and universes are mere diversions
Commerce marks the tomb of the unknown author
But the fact remains, the tales are immortal

Literature only, the issue is survival
When it hits your soul, the sensation is unrivaled

Literature only, it's a matter of perspective
All consuming and focused on the narrative
Dialog, repartee, conflict, motivation
Interplay, romance, thrills, observation

Literature only and occasionally poetic
Our brand of storytelling is the original cinematic
Perception is all, this life of ours is a mystery
Truths, secrets and lies, the rest is history

Literature only, we never stand for ceremony
We make no prescription and traffic in irony
Exploring the boundaries of the human condition
The interface between modernity and tradition

Literature only, it's beyond dispute
Caution, my friend, accept no substitutes
Bask in the glow and let the narrative unfold
The urgency of folk memory, the story simply had to be told

Literature only, plan to be a believer
A cast of thousands, all of them word scribblers
Apt to spontaneously declaim, these occasional rhymers
Mind you, the griots among them are also keen listeners

Literature only, enter the lyricists
Deep thinkers, philosophers and moralists
Villains, hacks, and, of course, the polemicists
Witness the hatchet jobs from the propagandists

Literature only, this is a serious matter
Specialists in all styles, we've got you covered
Hardboiled tropes, greed, revenge, and dense plotters
Love, hate, lust, youth and comedies of manners

Literature only, scribes and scriveners
Bask in what springs from the minds of these dreamers

Literature only, style and aesthetics
Savor the pointillist skewering from the satirists

Literature only, indelible heroes, ever dramatic
Our protagonists are always charming and charismatic
World builders, the terrain of the unknown, mining the imagination
Outrage too, a surfeit of reality that exceeds description

Literature only, we're not the usual suspects
Afflicted with the journalistic impulse, we simply have no regrets
Essayists and wordsmiths expounding on nothing and kindred subjects
Small things, the world is our oyster and practice makes perfect

Literature only, allusions and exhilaration
Literature only, excess and repetition
Literature only, even as the form varies
Literature only, filling your libraries
Literature only, as yet undefeated
Literature only, fasten seat belt while seated


Literature only


Literature, a playlist


A soundtrack for this note (spotify version) ...

Timing is everything
Observers are worried

literature only


File under: , , , , , , , , , ,

Writing log. July 24, 2022

Tuesday, July 12, 2022

Faint Praise

Occasionally lyrical, and always whimsical,
   he writes with the verve of the modern traveler
Her aesthetic choices are always daring, as if to strike a nerve,
   the tension is unbearable
He raises new vistas in his work,
   pushing towards the outer edges of the craft
A remarkable debut, her striking voice emerges fully formed,
   prismatic and thoughtful

Finely written, his book grapples with the liminal interstices
   of tradition and modernity
She captures something of the languor of the immigrant's condition
   and its tragedy
Thus it was a surprise to behold the new directions he is pursuing,
   a testament to his ambitions
Now she has turned her keen lens on western idées fixes,
   she sites her work at an unquiet juncture

Favoring the edgy, the argument becomes a touch unrefined,
   it betrays his purpose
The pose of the insider has served her well,
   less incisive are her wrought portrayals
A close reading reveals the shortcomings
   of his troubling and combative approach
What are we to make, on the page,
   of her more experimental departures?

Tellingly, the initial promise and aplomb appear to have gone awry
   on this well worn terrain
It is when she strays into Austenite stylings
   that she loses the edge to her oft-biting satire
By pursuing the phantom thread of dislocation,
   he risks raising the tired tropes of mulatto identity
The Forster inclination doesn't serve her well,
   her gimlet quill ought to be reserved for life's incongruities

The subtext is clear, sure you can write, but next time stay in your lane
What the academy bestows freely, it also reserves the right to reframe
As flavor of the month, play the game wisely or you may come up short
The funk song was a fiction: All the critics love you in New York


bearing gifts

Faint Praise, a playlist


A soundtrack for this cautionary tale. (spotify)
...

Timing is everything
Observers are worried

See previously: Flavor of the Month

File under: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Writing log: April 28, 2021

Friday, January 07, 2022

Shock of the Familiar

It's uncanny when you first recognize a kindred spirit
When you find yourself in conversation with a long lost friend
Beholding that ineffable nous that immediately speaks to you
A substance and outlook that, you realize, tints your customary lens

For what is familiar to you, what you've long known as normalcy
Is not the same for others, rare are the cases of deep empathy
You wrote the tale of the lost stories in an attempt to find yourself
For it's not often that you recognize yourself on the book shelves

It's bracing to read them as they take you into their worlds, these writers
With their finely detailed narratives, it's the underlying story that matters
What with the shared love of limpid language and angular storytelling
We are children of Ananse, with words as music, lovers of social living

I have my tribe, masked in words, with whom I'm in episodic conversation
Members of my cohort who give me comfort with their singular discursions
Blood brothers and sisters, most of them badged as modern travelers
I don't need their likes or plaudits, their very presence is enough

Humorous anecdotes and elliptical notions thrown in for good measure
Unafraid to take our time and tell stories and let them take us where they may
There are distinctions for sure, I'm not one for some of their enthusiasms
Even when I disagree, I have a deep and specific connection with their artistic impulses

The long tail of community, kindred souls who risk and dare
We are normally dark matter, but clarifying with the stories we share
Each pushing our way towards the moment when you see your face in the mirror
But even with our undoubted self confidence, it can be the shock of the familiar

In a life of mixed metaphors: the middle passage and the torrid zone
I'd rather not face the challenge of humanity's curriculum alone
At once stranded mid-Atlantic, dislocation is our ultimate subject
A head nod to my fellow travelers engaging in the normalcy project

Aburi mask

Evocative, a playlist


The Friends playlist would normally be my first port of call, but this note seems to require something a bit more angular and evocative. Taken mostly from Massive Attack and Portishead who frankly won the 90s and finishing with the incomparable Stevie Wonder taking flight. (spotify version)
...

Timing is everything
Observers are worried

File under: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Writing log: March 25, 2021

Tuesday, June 29, 2021

The Great Longing

To this type of writer, fidelity is not the concern
He strains for the lyrical in everything he observes
Comfortable with a tall-tale, or is it a hall of mirrors?
One shouldn't hew too closely to those paragraphs about Paris

He delights in fluttering from town to town
But there's acuity whenever he hits the ground
Picking out people to study and describe
It's no wonder this novel concerns a public scribe

His novels have that quality of floating above a city
All residents are fair game for his detached scrutiny
The fumes of memory are his proving ground
His task is recording the imprint of history's sound

Some writers are like this, they feel so deeply
Even when their work covers a terrain of uncertainty
Yet their commitment holds fast to that roving eye
A compulsion they cannot escape no matter how much they try

It's a sort of out-of-body performance, this authorial detachment
The critics would brand him the laureate of internal displacement
I'm minded of a line from a song called Human Nature
The knowing looks exchanged that the lyricist captured

He traces this compulsion to growing up as a sick child
Confined to bed and to home, experiencing life through others
Starting with imaginary affairs where he pictures himself running wild
Escaping his room and seducing the women who visit his mother

As an adult, in his own real relationships, there is always awkwardness
The flesh can never measure up to the erstwhile fictional goddesses
The determination to eschew participation in favor of bearing witness
Has a pervasive effect, in all engagements he is rendered feckless

He describes towns he has lived in, Fez, Tangiers, all full of traditions
Exquisite portraits, even if some of these places are not happy locations
Take the camp he is sent to as punishment for dissent as a young student
In maturity, in France he can only reminisce about the Morocco he left

A metaphor, perhaps, of the perils of life as a dissident
The squalid end that autocrats decree to crush dissent
The Moroccan antecedent was L'Affaire Ben Barka
The means, fear and blood, that marked such chapters

So who is this écrivain public? And how accurate is his narrative?
The author wears as his disguise a mask of words hidden in plain sight
The indirection of men of letters who craft their narratives of exile
This reader recognizes a fellow traveler bearing a splinter of ice

In days of yore, it was an honorable profession to write letters
To give voice to those requiring correspondence and editorial services
The public scribe took dictation or transformed words into print
From mundane business to, sometimes piquant, the most romantic

The later novels are what endeared him to the academy
But it is this early one that lingers in my memory
The sketches of childhoods with certainties written in sand
And the testimonies on the lack of mercy in the life of man

The lesson is that what matters is documenting the dislocation
We'll have time enough later to deal with truth and reconciliation
The spirit's rhythm of loss is the heart of the matter
The great longing is the main feature of nostalgia



On reading L'Écrivain Public by Tahar Ben Jelloun

brass glistens souk of marrakesh africa report 1966-06-058 portfolio of african holidays

The Great Longing, a playlist


A soundtrack for this note (spotify version) ...

Timing is everything
Observers are worried

See also: File under: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Writing log. Concept: January 10, 2011; March 5, 2021

Thursday, August 13, 2020

A Splinter of Ice

There is a splinter of ice in the heart of a writer. I watched and listened. There was something which one day I might need: the woman speaking, uttering the banalities she must have remembered from some woman's magazine, a genuine grief that could communicate only in clichés.

— Graham Greene, A Sort of Life
"All my companions but not myself". Greene observes before arriving at his notorious image of writerly detachment...

This is the retrospective expression of a writer’s ambivalence. The world has come suddenly apart, split in two, into the inhabited and the observed.

Julian Evans on Graham Greene's worldliness and moral ambiguity

I was reminded of Graham Greene's quote as I found myself mining my own grief this past week, as a kind of exorcism by prose and poetry. There was an initial residue of conflict as I started writing my testimony. But then I acquiesced, and made my peace with it, for I have long been afflicted with the journalistic impulse. The words came easily, and I poured my soul into my tribute; I was told the end result was moving and much appreciated. A few days later, the prescribed ceremonies took place. By necessity, I could only watch from afar, so I simply observed and, while watching, wrote the following...


What more when one could view the spectacle
Of a Ghanaian funeral in a covidious time?
You could escape from your corporate battles,
And join in the trans-Atlantic mourning
Further, it was made so easy for you on that Saturday morning,
A WhatsApp message, one click, and a live stream appeared online.

And so you got a glimpse of what it meant as you had read
"All COVID-19 protocols and directives will be strictly observed"
But if the preacher's wife dies, it can hardly be a small affair,
Let alone for a woman as remarkable as her.

dela-funeral-01

The images came forth.
This was your third zoom funeral
First London, then Philadelphia
This time the service and burial
Would be held at Sakumono in Accra
The previously onerous funeral restrictions that we'd suffered
Had just been lifted throughout Ghana

In the church they observed the dress code, it was quite the sight
The shimmering white lace and other fabrics in black and white
And the masks, you could see the sanitizer stations
Even as you caught the occasional glimpse of your relations

dela-funeral-03

But then you'd notice the occasional few
Whose masks had slipped, sitting in the pews
It's no use wearing face shields and masks, all that money spent
It just takes one infected mourner to make this a superspreading event.

dela-funeral-08

Thankfully they hadn't hired the dancing pallbearers
But this crew seemed like they were working up to it
To the eyes of this exiled chief mourner.
Who knows with this kind of practice, one day they'll catch the holy spirit

dela-funeral-06

You noticed that everyone's natural impulse to touch
Had to be curtailed, it was all too much
And beyond the prevailing masks worn, styled with the church's logo,
The parade of unnatural public mourning wasn't bringing much relief
Perhaps it was best to be 6,000 miles away, offscreen with your private grief.

The only hugs that you observed in the hourlong broadcast
Were of a mother and daughter, your aunt and cousin.
Even then, you could see the pointed eyes on them
Why are they breaching the new normalcy?
Before understanding prevailed,
And the critical mourners saw reason
How you yearned to be there hugging them yourself,
You tried, but the screen held fast.

dela-funeral-13-akua-susie

But then, you couldn't help yourself, you're a writer
And you hearkened back to Graham Greene's splinter
For in your watching, you made sure you snatched a few pearls
These are the scribbled wages of a detached observer
Even as indelible images of grief pierced your retina
There you were thinking that "I might get another stanza":

dela-funeral-16-grief

My aunt, I hadn't realized it was the night of your marriage
31st December 1981
That came the military coup that would cause us all such damage
Could it really be that you, ever since, had to celebrate that strife?
Irony is the key register of African life


See also: Dela


A Spinter of Ice, a playlist


As usual a soundtrack for this note, a musical meditation perhaps on detachment and solitude and the obsessive ironies of the creative process. (spotify version)

See also: The Joy of Small Things

This note is part of a series: In a covidious time.


File under: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Monday, March 11, 2019

Side by Side

A few juxtapositions briefly noted - part of an occasional series.

Novelistic Lives


novelistic lives
  • The Miracle Life of Edgar Mint by Brady Udall
  • The Unusual Life of Tristan Smith by Peter Carey
  • The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Díaz
  • The Secret Lives of Baba Segi's Wives by Lola Shoneyin
Another candidate on the same bookshelf was Milan Kundera's Life is Elsewhere.

House Readings


House readings
  • La vie de boy (Houseboy) by Ferdinand Oyono
  • Housegirl by Michael Donkoli
  • The Housemaid by Amma Darko
My favourite book on much the same theme is Empress of the Splendid Season by Oscar Hijuelos.

Office Tales


Office life, office politics, the organization man, managing humans, the bad child's book of beasts
  • Office life by Keith Waterhouse
  • Office Politics by Wilfrid Sheed
  • The Organization Man by William H Whyte, Jr
  • Managing Humans by Rands in Repose
  • The Bad Child's Book of Beasts by Hilaire Belloc
Belloc's inclusion turns these office tales into a survival guide.

Contrasting Fortunes

I grew up in a newsroom hence print newspapers retain their fascination for me. In this age of declining print journalism, I am still cheered that there are some stories whose impact is best dealt with in newsprint. The touch of a great editor melding words and images is a thing to behold.

apartheid legacies in Stellenbosch

Surprisingly, although it was part of the same story, it was not the front page display of last Sunday's New York Times that was vital to me, nor indeed the online version, A battle defined by Property Lines and Race. Rather it was the contrast between the images of those erecting a shack on page 12 and the relaxing tourists in the streets of Stellenbosch on 13 that silently made the poignant case. The complexities of the enduring legacies of apartheid were succinctly illustrated. Who gets to share in the wages of wine and spoils of the soil?

In the same vein, I had a strong sense that the Brexit referendum would go the way it did simply by reading the inside pages of the Daily Mail in January 2016, something that amounted to Tickling John Bull's Lizard Brain. There, skillful juxtaposition had a visceral impact even on a jaundiced reader.

The most effective juxtaposition I can remember was executed in the war context in the reporting of the Israeli attacks on Lebanon in 2006. The accompanying article, In Beirut, an Abyss Between Elegance and Chaos, didn't need much more that the contrasting photos.

"One man struggles, while another relaxes", goes the refrain in Massive Attack's Hymn of the Big Wheel. This is the nature of The Great Game.

Colors - a playlist




File under: , , ,

Tuesday, December 04, 2018

Readings

In lieu of writing (checks to see the alarming length of time since I last clicked publish) as the parental cone of silence has enveloped those routines, I have managed to do some reading of late (and by reading I mean books, not the omnivorous web consumption that is our new normal) (and by books, I mean paperbacks - it's my practice to ensure that I am always behind the latest literary fashion). I've been pleasantly surprised that this past year's crop of books has nothing that should be best left unread, and indeed I recommend all of these. Herewith my year in books.

Readings 2018
  • Tram 83 by Fiston Mwanza Mujila

    An entertainment and a tour-de-force. The sheer bravado, humour and joy at work is remarkable. With every page, I grew ever more convinced that the future of the African novel is in good hands. Sidenote: it is so well crafted that it elicited the finest book review I've read in years. Apparently there's a good translation that manages to capture the frenetic energy and linguistic fireworks. There's a musical rhythm to the writing, classically one might call it a Greek chorus, but I would rather ascribe it to the swirling multitudes of Papa Wemba. Taking a broader, pan-African view, I imagine a soundtrack by T.P. Orchestre Poly-Rythmo. When paired with Alain Mabanckou's wonderful earlier Verre Cassé (with which it almost rhymes), it is clear that we have been gifted a great cultural movement: literary sapeurs of the two Congos.

  • Petit Piment by Alain Mabanckou

    The master is always more impressive when he writes in a personal mode. The focus on the young protagonists expands the range of the customary humour. Congo's Dickens is at work sketching journeys from the orphanage to gritty streets. Oliver Twist or Great Expectations.

  • Tales from Africa by K.P. Kojo

    Nii Ayikwei Parkes' second collection of children's stories was a nighttime favourite for the kids. Encore!

  • Les aubes écarlates by Léonora Miano

    A Cameroonian take on the child soldier narrative. Haunting stuff that made for gripping reading. I will nitpick the ending - although I later realized that I had missed the fact that this was the third novel in a series. I'm with the 99%.

  • The Good Immigrant edited by Nikesh Shukla

    Modern Britain is yet to come to terms with race and the probing essays in this collection broaden the perspective, lucid without being didactic, personal yet universal. I await the follow up on that deals with this side of the Atlantic.

  • The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead

    Hey, Oprah recommended it and man did he deliver. Applause all around. There was a vibrant literary scene at Harvard just as the dot com boom got going. Kevin Young, the late Philippe Wamba, and others all had oblique takes our modern condition. Colson Whitehead remains one of the most original of that cohort.

  • Kintu by Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi

    Uganda sliced every which way. Read it. Savour it. Then read it again.

  • Swing Time by Zadie Smith

    A crowd pleaser from our greatest writer. Every detail works. Even this musical obsessive couldn't play gotcha. How's that, not even one anachronism; it isn't fair.

  • The Noise of Time by Julian Barnes
  • Late era Barnes is no less ambitious than the young lion who gave us A History of the World in 10 1/2 Chapters. Pointillist precision on display.

  • Known and Strange Things by Teju Cole

    A late pass as ever, I'm forever fascinated by what he omits in his published works while grateful for what we do get. Here's willing him back to the blogging front. As Abbey Lincoln sang: Throw it Away.

  • The Cartel by Don Winslow

    Epic in scope like its dark predecessor. The definitive take on the drug wars that are our ongoing predicament.

  • Les Contes d'Amadou Komba by Birago Diop

    I am savouring these modern Senegalese folktales with all their delicious twists. Having been brought up on Ananse stories and Arabian Nights, this is right up my alley. I treat myself to Diop's tasty morsels. He's my Peggy Appiah.

File under: , , , , , , , ,

Friday, January 29, 2016

Tickling John Bull's Lizard Brain

Sometimes you find yourself starting to clap even though the setting isn't quite appropriate; you simply can't help it. In this case, it was definitely problematic; the setting being the middle of a transatlantic flight and, with me looking, as I do, like a slightly older version of the underwear bomber, it certainly wasn't prudent. "No sudden moves" has been my catchphrase when traveling, but there I was a week ago, unable to stifle the handclaps or bravos that I felt were in order. How often does one get to celebrate the beauty of a perfectly executed journalistic intervention. For there is an art to putting a newspaper together, and, in this age of decline, I was compelled to salute the editors of the Daily Mail for their achievement. I am writing of course of pages 8 and 9 of the Daily Mail from Monday January 18 2016. Behold some media toli:

Targeting John Bull's Lizard Brain - Daily Mail Monday January 18 2016 pages 8-9

This wonderful two page spread is a deftly-executed visceral appeal directly targeting John Bull's lizard brain, specifically that area near the outer reaches of the jingoism gland, that murky corner somewhere in the liminal sections of the cerebral cortex - tickling the nativist quadrant of the medulla if you will. I am summoned to metaphorical excess at the accuracy of the editorial imperative displayed. It's like one of those newfangled drug cocktail therapies designed to overwhelm the many devious defenses of the E.coli bacteria. It's the bundling at work, the combination therapy if you will, that marvels. The choice of headlines, the placement of stories - a masterpiece of juxtaposition, the pull quotes accentuating fear, disgust and sexual anxiety at once, and the graphic design adding to the reader's sense of learned helplessness. Everything is connected and works together to reinforce the dismal political message; the keen editorial sense on display in service to agitprop. No search engine optimization can match the tabloid efficiency on display here. I dare anyone to scan these pages without experiencing agitation and confusion - this is the clear intent of the editors. I've annotated the features that caused my unbidden standing ovation.

  1. Cologne sex gangs could come here under EU law, PM is warned
    Predatory immigrants are threatening the homeland with their rapist impulses. Grooming be damned, the font size emphasizes the immediacy of the danger to us 'here'. The "under EU law, PM is warned" parts of the headline are necessary but secondary additions to the main theme, the imminent threat of those "sex gangs". It is clear that David Cameron needs to stiffen his resolve against EU law lest the "Cologne sex gangs" smuggle themselves past the concrete jungle outside Calais, through the Channel Tunnel and onto fair England's land.
  2. Muslims are impossible to integrate says Czech president
    As an editor, I have always found it best to get someone else to make the desired piquant quote for you and this headline is no exception. The provocative paraphrase of the authority figure, the Czech president (a "71 year old Left-Winger" whose opinion would normally be dismissed in the Daily Mail's thinking) underlies the essential trifecta: Muslims. Impossible. Integration. We might as well give up. The headline omits the 'practically' precursor that softens the 'impossible' task, but well, the headline writer has exercised editorial discretion. Clean hands after all that dirty work.
  3. 'Effectively throwing money down the toilet'
    This pull quote about waste of the bathroom sort raises the issue of disgust at bodily functions. The proximity of the scatological angle is intentionally tied to the specter of the sex gangs previously raised. Outrage is a close companion to disgust.
    Note: for the visually minded, the toilet and sex gangs are complemented to the right on the opposite page by the photo of woman in a state of undress - a presumed target, but we'll get to number 8 in due course.
  4. 'There is nothing we can do'
    This alarming pull quote emphasizes just how besieged 'we' are on all fronts, from "sex gangs" to wasted money.
  5. Ghettoes and excluded localities
    The locus of the problems 'we' are facing from "them" is outlined here. The language of the "surge... of refugee arrivals.. wave of mostly Muslim migrants" embedded in the article is overkill. "Ghettoes and excluded localities" does the job.
  6. Half of EU aid wasted, stolen or lost in red tape
    The plain message being articulated is that the English common man is being cheated. Our money is clearly being wasted by bureaucrats, and, further, we have been told "there is nothing we can do about it". It is galling to say the least. This is in clear contrast to those Guardian-reading liberals who would speak in praise of red tape
  7. Build fence 'using petrol tax'
    This inset's purpose is to sow confusion and it does so brilliantly combining an anti-tax agenda (for the proposed taxes would be "wasted, stolen or lost in red tape"), with protectionism (the need "to build a fence" to protect against the "sex gangs") with skepticism about the environmental agenda of the EU big dogs, the "petrol taxes". The small print of Wolfgang Schaeuble lurking in the story should raise the reader's hackles.
  8. Trixie the half-dressed blonde nun proxy
    Trixie, of Call the Midwife fame, is essentially the visual relief from the text - the right brain complement to the editorial assault on our senses. The title may well be "Midwives swing into the 60s... and face a tear jerking tragedy" but what grabs attention is Nurse Trixie herself - and it is unclear if she is dressing or undressing. The main takeaway is that there is a state of undress and the concomittant vulnerablilty. It doesn't hurt to have a nudge or wink towards sex: cleavage sells, sex sells after all. Still, the helpless blonde needs rescuing from the text-heavy affronts raised on the left brain. It is all of a piece.
  9. Thalidomide Scandal
    Ignore the rest of the title, the eye certainly ignores the preamble (Mail TV critic sees hit show return and tackle the Thalidomide Scandal)
    Disease is the inevitable metaphor for 'Them', those foreigners, those migrants, those sex gangs. In the past it was plague, last year it was Ebola, this year it is Zika, but the allusion is to the thalidomide scandal of yore - dead or deformed babies. The actual content of the review doesn't matter as much as the juxtaposition of Thalidomide with the Muslims, the sex gangs, and the red tape. It reinforces the point: we need urgently protection to build a fence against these depredations. It is galling that "there is nothing we can do' to protect defenseless infants or their mothers. The midwives need our help to avoid a tragedy. Save the children.
  10. A picture of chaos and disorder
    The helpful caption to this troubling picture makes the point: "Under attack: hundreds of women were sexually assaulted by migrants in Cologne on New Year's Eve". "We" are under attack. The gangs of youth standing ready to assault women that New Year's Eve might well be aimed at those half-dressed midwives. Their stances are mirror images. The eye flips from left to right and the sense of impending action, sexual violence and all, is emphasized.
  11. Asbestos exposure
    The "important information" of this advert is the equation of those "ghettos and excluded localities" replete with "sex gangs" with the perils of "asbestos exposure", mesothelioma and "thalidomide". The ambulance chasing firms got their money's worth in targeting the working man, while the editors scored a metaphorical triumph.
  12. Average pay at Goldman £250k
    Outrage is compounded by the injustice and inequality of this world. In this Great Recession, the symbolism of bankers continuing to grab all the loot even as wages stagnate for the rest of us is telling. Again, if one casts one's eye to the other side of the spread, we are visually reminded that 'There is nothing we can do'.
  13. Scots earn more per hour than English!
    This last item caused my in-flight commotion. Having been buffeted by all the preceding into a state of panic, the English reader is jolted into a state of blinding outrage. Poor John Bull has been repeatedly set upon, the Union Jack that those ungrateful Geordies tried to disdain in that referendum, the petrol taxes and EU wasted aid all adds up to seeing red. The exclamation point adds the requisite amount of indignation. The intended turmoil has been successfully sown: fear and loathing accomplished. The (almost redundant) punctuation mark is a knowing wink from the editors. You can imagine their craftsman's satisfaction at their day's work.

A decade ago, I published a piece that held the Ebola and Marburg viruses as proxies for Ronald Reagan and Jonas Savimbi's depredations on Africa and Angola in particular. The contrast between those 8,000 words and the brutal efficiency of these two Daily Mail pages is telling. I am further confounded because, in my views, I am the antithesis of everything the Daily Mail editors appear to advocate for, yet, well, I recognize the genius of their game and they very sincerely moved my emotions. The rhetorical precision that lies in the nationalist, populist and protectionist appeal to John Bull is compelling. Well played Dear Editors, the 2016 Toli huhudious awards have a nominee if not a front-runner, and we were only 3 weeks into the year.

Jingo Perils - Some Light Reading

Hilaire Belloc wrote an allegory On Jingoes: In The Shape Of A Warning in my favourite book of essays On Nothing and Kindred Subjects, a volume, as it happens, on nothing and kindred subjects. This whimsical folktale tells "the sad and lamentable history of Jack Bull, son of the late John Bull, India Merchant". This purported son, becomes bamboozled by the opportunist Sir John Snipe and the advice his retainers, Hocus and Pocus, who he called Freedom and Glory for some misbegotten reason. The story ends in the same vein as his earlier cautionary tales and I strongly commend it to you. Belloc was prescient as always: ruin lies in the way of the jingo... Sadly it is a message that the Daily Mail prefers to relearn by experience rather than avoid.

An anxious playlist

As usual, a soundtrack to this note:

File under: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Monday, April 06, 2015

To Make The Road Fearful

Prosecutor: Mr Witness, what did Reflection tell you about who shot Superman?

The transcripts of the Special Court for Sierra Leone, commonly called the Charles Taylor Trial, were a fascinating and disturbing glimpse into the conduct of a very dirty war. Nihilism was the trademark of most of the civil war's protagonists. The trial records feature not just garden-variety graft and basic criminality (the 'crime' part of war crimes), but mostly hallucinatory bloodlust and premeditated savagery (indiscriminate killings, routinized rape, summary amputations, forced drugs, cannibalism, etc.). War is hell; civil wars are hell; the descent of Liberia and Sierra Leone was an uncommon hell.

Still if you read the transcripts as I did in real time through the daily updates, you would have been confronted with a grand and unique body of literature, a mix of Kafka, Beckett, and plain Gothic horror presented in bureaucratic form. Truly, everything is in there.

For most observers, it was the child soldier narratives that were the most upsetting - overwhelming testaments to innocence lost and unconscionable cynicism, if not evil. For me, it was the observations of daily life during the wider Dante-esque free-for-all that resonated most. Additionally, there was a wealth of stories and conspiratorial detail to attract those afflicted with the journalistic impulse.

The setting was legal, with built-in confrontation and dramatic tension: Defense versus Prosecution moderated by The Court. There was the examination of Witnesses and Victims while Defendants looked on defiantly, denying everything, all of this shaped by the stylized conventions and terms of art of international law. The chaotic events described were mostly awful and occurred episodically over fourteen years, with protagonists from over a dozen countries, and affected millions of people; it was an international disaster through and through.

There was poverty and illiteracy on display - those already-poor countries became poorer still - and, indeed, could no longer even be called 'developing', during those wartime years. The language barriers were many, often obscuring comprehension during the trial - the creole and pidgin, and the many local languages of Liberia, Sierra Leone (Krio, Mende etc), Guinea and Cote d'Ivoire contending with the English, French and Dutch of The Hague to create a legal Babel of interpretation. The heavy accents essentially leap off the transcript pages. There were heaps of military jargon to further confuse things - for, although unconventionally fought, this was a bloody military war. And there would be smidgens of pop culture references, the warlords and their recruits (or rather prey) were young and enamored with football, reggae, hip hop and action movies (Stallone and Schwarzenegger would turn out to be big influences).

There were also fatally compromised actors in this drama. Many witnesses and defendants had considerable blood on their hands, a sizable number would often be lying through their teeth or, at best, furiously seeking to diminish their responsibility. And worse, many potentially valuable witnesses had come to bloody ends. Oftentimes the only remaining witnesses of crucial events would be lower level protagonists, say the drivers who drove the warlords to their nefarious meetings, or the radio operators who would arrange communications. Witnesses were often still traumatized about their experiences.

The concept itself of a Special Court and its legitimacy kept being brought up. Why was the trial focusing on events in Sierra Leone? What about all the atrocities in next door Liberia? Why confine prosecution to those "who bear the greatest responsibility" while allowing many murderers impunity? What about the truth and reconciliation committees that had been set up in those countries? What about the motley cast of foreigners involved, from Ukrainian and South African mercenaries, ex-CIA agents, through Al Qaeda types seeking blood diamonds from Lebanese and Belgian jewelers, Russian arms dealers, to meddling rogues and financiers like Blaise Campaoré and He of the Little Green Book, Colonel Gaddafi? There was enough culpability to go around. Despite all these difficulties, the lawyers had to tease out a grand narrative among the mountains of evidence, demonstrate a chain of custody, and establish clear findings of fact among the details. A challenging mess in short.

So. The Charles Taylor trial wasn't easy to digest but it had legal, journalistic and historical merit, not to mention an unexpected literary benefit. And it is this last aspect that transfixed me and kept me reading rather than grieving and despairing of humanity. It turns out that there's a certain poetry in these mundane transcripts, a kind of found art in the minutiae of these annals of cruelty. Where else would you find a more perfect sentence?

Prosecutor: Mr Witness, what did Reflection tell you about who shot Superman?

No fiction could equal this notion of Law and Order meeting The Last Philosophers in a comic book trial. Frankly I was hooked; I can't praise that sentence highly enough. Everything about it compels you to read or listen on. The text, the sub-text, the über-text, the text qua text! The formality of address is merely the beginning (Mr Witness). The testimony sought by the authority figure, The Prosecutor, is the second hand memories of The Witness about what someone named Reflection (Reflection!) confessed about the implied assault on (or death of) someone named Superman. Who is this person named Reflection? What was his relation to Superman? Why, to start with, does the prosecutor care about Superman? And, pray tell, did Superman die of the attack?

II. Conflict Readings


The child soldier narrative in African literature

Some of our best writers have tackled the war, warlord, and child soldier narratives in African literature. The pinnacle of the genre of course is Ken Saro Wiwa's Sozaboy which deals with the Biafra conflict. There are also great works that focus specifically on the Liberia and Sierra Leonean imbroglio. Ahmadou Kourouma's masterpiece Allah n'est pas obligé is the best of the contemporary novels, a stunning achievement full of coiled menace and casual cruelty. Denis Johnson's reporting in Seek is hallucinatory; in particular, the reporting on Prince Johnson's torture and execution of the erstwhile Master Sergent, and then President, Samuel Doe, and the piece on Charles Taylor's Small Boy Units are unmatched in their immediacy (that phrase, Small Boy Units, being another grotesque, yet inspired, coinage). He sought out extremes and was unmanned by what he found. Emmanuel Dongala's Johnny Chien Méchant is simply scary - there's a fine English translation, Johnny Mad Dog. Helon Habila's Measuring Time treats the theme in a measured manner (it is a mere subplot of his grand novel) while Iweala's Beasts of no nation revels in surface style and linguistic gymnastics. Jean-Claude Derey's Les Anges Cannibales is a beastly mix of journalism turned novel and Léonora Miano's Les aubes écarlates stands out in its depiction of the dark episodes. Dealing with the militias in Congo-Brazzaville, Alain Mabanckou opted for restraint in Les Petits-Fils Nègres de Vercingétorix. Ishmael Beah's memoir, A Long Way Gone, by necessity of the form, can't take as much novelistic license, hence it is a more sober, if still harrowing, affair.

The unbearable reality these works address speaks for itself; the attending book covers merely highlight the distressing story. Journalists are typically the first to write about such things - although, often, their writings, being in the service of 'news', aim for the dispassionate rather than the urgent. When the writers have turned to fiction, the worlds they created were uniformly haunting; when they have drawn on their experiences, the reader yearns to escape their suffocating worlds. And it is this unreal reality they confront that we read at length in these trial transcripts of the Special Court. In contrast, we dare not turn away.

III. Naming Conventions

Let's start with the names, a mixture of military directness, macabre grimness and sheer horror. One can only find death and desolation in Operation No Living Thing or Operation Spare No Soul. And consider the cynical precision of Operation Stop Elections which introduced, and institutionalized, the alarming spectacle of random amputations as shock and awe. But what of Operation No Monkey, or the obvious invitation to marauding looting embodied in Operation Pay Yourself?

And what about the names of the wicked? Consider a few of the huhudious nicknames and noms de guerre: Jungle, Black Jesus, Savage, Crazy, Red Goat, Rocky, Rambo (there were many Rambos in the conflict - the one that that first caught my attention was the fearsome RUF Rambo), Zigzag Marzah, General 50, General 245, Five Five, General Dry Pepper (not to be confused with Dried Pepper), Captain Blood, Leather Boot, Gullit (lots of football nicknames as it turns out), Dawn-Dawn, Waco-Waco (there's joy in repetition), Butterfly, KGB, Zino, Black Diamond, the notorious Adama Cut Hand, The Devil, The Killer, Scare the Baby, Monkey Brown and groups such as the "Black Gaddafa", the Black Guards and the West Side Boys. And yes of course the aforementioned Reflection and Superman. To think that General Butt Naked didn't even figure in the trial (his murdering ways were confined to Liberia).

The mere names of the characters and the setting would be enough to summon a play by way of Ionesco. They need not be doing anything out of the ordinary to garner attention (imagine Scare the Baby discussing with Butterfly where to take Superman and Red Goat for dinner) let alone when those now questioning them are constrained with legalese ("my learned colleague", "I submit to you", further and better particulars etc). Adding the very surreal subject matter of this raging civil war serves to surface all the incongruity of a heightened theater of the absurd. Naming alone can drive the narrative.

A poignant counterpoint to these names of awful men and women is to consider their victims. It is truly sobering to read the listings of victims painstakingly compiled by the commissions and courts.

A._ (Female) age 13 - 1991 in Pujehun - Assaulted and raped.
F._ (Male) - 1998 in Bombali - Forcibly conscripted.
F._ (Female) age 12 - 1999 in Western Area - Abducted and detained. Raped.
G._ (Female) - 1995 in Moyamba - Forced to labour and sexually enslaved. Assaulted.
F.A (Female) age 10 - 1995 in Kono - Sexually enslaved. Tortured.
F.A (Female) age 16 - Forced to labour. Assaulted, tortured and raped.
A.B (Female) age 57 - 1997 in Port Loko - Displaced, extorted and property looted. Forced to labour. Assaulted and raped.
Charles, Bockarie (Male) age 53 - Displaced. Limb amputated.
Charles, Eyaja (Male) - 1998 in Kaiyamba, Moyamba - Tortured. Killed.
[ snip... lengthy and distressing listings of victims ]
help me o lord talking drums july 1985

The undeniable villain is Mosquito, Sam Bockarie, a man who wrecked bloody havoc and inspired so much fear for so long. He is cited as "a Battlefield Commander of lethal prowess and a deviant of unknown quantity... [who] committed human rights abuses with total abandon". Even more than the RUF's leader Foday Sankoh, and the ostensible target of the trial, Charles Taylor, his specter haunted the proceedings. Like the mosquitoes he was named after, he was not afraid of blood and indeed sought it out and seemed to relish vicious warfare and unrestrained cruelty. Sidenote: Bockarie suffered a very convenient death once it became clear that his ultimate boss, Charles Taylor, would be facing legal troubles.

Prosecutor: Just pause, Mr Witness. First you talk - once you spoke about the Master, that Master came. Who did you refer to when you said Master?

Witness: Sam Bockarie. I had said it once or twice here in this Court that we used to call Sam Bockarie Master, so any time I use Master I will be referring to Sam Bockarie. Then Father, we used to call Charles Taylor the Father. So at times - I am still used to calling him that way, that's why.
A lot of effort is spent on identity issues, naming is a fluid thing and prosecutors always have to double check what names are being used and when.
Witness: Later on, some of my friends called me Uprising.
The names are what witnesses hold on to in order to make sense of things.
Witness: Well, yes, like I recall CO Big Darling, one who was called Big Darling. And there was another called CO Nyamator and there was another with a nickname called CO After the War. So those were the kind of names they had. There was also another called Rebel Baby, CO Rebel Baby.

The Liberians were often the first to resort to nicknames for whatever reason.

Witness: Well, CO Lion was a Liberian vanguard and they were the ones who came to help train us in Sierra Leone to fight the war.
Context is everything.
Prosecutor:So, Mr Witness, just so we're clear, who were you with at that time?

Witness: I was with RUF Rambo at that time to attack Hastings and Jui.

Prosecutor: What other commanders were with RUF Rambo?

Witness: Rambo Red Goat, Crazy and others

Suffice to say that this parade of absurd names often diverts attention from some of the more consequential actors (such as Eddie Kaneh, Mike Lamin, Issa Sesay or Ibrahim Bah) and colors our perception of the acts that took place. And yes, for the record, Reflection was a radio operator for Benjamin Yeaten, Charles Taylor's right hand man. And Dennis Mingo (alias Superman) was a bad man: 'one of the foremost perpetrators of abduction-related crimes against children, including forced recruitment and forced drugging'.

IV. To Make the Road Fearful


should there be chaos in our beloved country

The word "fearful" has a heavy burden in the history of the conflicts in Liberia and Sierra Leone. It was the adjective of choice for Charles Taylor and his acolytes for describing a crucial element of their wartime strategy. It is read entirely too often in the transcripts, a mournful thread running through the narratives that emerge. It is always uttered as an explicit invitation to murder and terrorism - with civilians as the frequent targets.

Taylor told one group of RUF soldiers, the "Black Gaddafa", that their mission was to "sabotage the movement of the enemy in Sierra Leone" by setting up ambushes and making areas 'fearful'. The witness said that Taylor and Sankoh ordered the troops to attack SLA and ULIMO forces, as well as capture civilians.

These injunctions would be taken to heart and the accounts of the subsequent misdeeds are often rendered in the most matter-of-fact terms.

Prosecutor: Was this attack only by the RUF or there were others involved?

Witness: the AFRC guys were involved

Prosecutor: Like who?

Witness: Gullit, Bazzy, Hon. Adams, Savage and other commanders

Prosecutor: Who were they all taking orders from?

Witness: Superman

Prosecutor: What happened during the attack?

Witness: We attacked Kono and we took over the town. We started looting and some of the commanders captured girls and made them their wives while some of us were burning houses

Prosecutor: Do you recall how many houses were burnt?

Witness: No I can't remember the figure

Prosecutor: Was there any particular reason you will select a house to burn?

Witness: Yes, one of the reasons was because there specific houses where Kamajors were based and some people pointed at house where people were supporting Kamajors

Prosecutor: Do you know if there were people inside the houses that were burnt?

Witness: Yes. When we set the houses on fire, we will hear the people inside screaming and when the house is burnt, we will see their skulls and bones.

And so with clinical precision, we get to the heart of the matter: blood and sin. Also note the hand of Superman.

Prosecutor: Did you take part in the Bumpeh attack?

Witness: Yes

Prosecutor: Were there opposing forces in Bumpeh when you got there?

Witness: No other forces were there so we attacked the civilians

Prosecutor: So what was done to the civilians there?

Witness: We asked them to leave the town. Some of them resisted, so we opened fire on them, we decapitated some and put their heads on the checkpoint.

Prosecutor: Why would you put the heads on the checkpoint?

Witness: To make the road fearful.

Prosecutor: Why would the RUF attack civilians in Motema and Bumpeh?

Witness: Because ECOMOG were advancing and we wanted to make the place fearful.

Prosecutor: Did RUF have any philosophy about treatment of civilians?

Witness: Well when civilians were based in the communities, they will take information in and out and so if we wanted to base there, we will get the civilians out of the town.

Prosecutor: Did you have any sense in the RUF about civilians?

Witness: We used to say civilians did not have blood

Prosecutor: What did you mean?

Witness: They were not as important as we were

Prosecutor: Did you see any difference in the way the AFRC treated civilians?

Witness: I did not see any great difference except the time we divided along the Freetown highway. We treated civilians in the same way

Prosecutor: Who led the attack on Tombodu?

Witness: Savage

Prosecutor: Do you know what happened during that attack?

Witness: Yes. Savage went there and did mass killings. They had a big valley there where he placed all the civilians. Superman and I went to Tombodu. Savage went and showed us the valley and Superman did not take any action.

Prosecutor: Can you describe the valley?

Witness: It was an old diamond pit.

Prosecutor: When your friends came back with girls from Motema, can you say the ages of the girls they came with?

Witness: Some were 14, some 20 etc. Some of them were in Koidu town with us and some at the Combat Camp. We even had one Michaela who was very small, about 14, who was with one of my friends.

Sexual abuse was pervasive:

Prosecutor: I need to go back to the attack on Makeni, what if anything happened to civilians there?

Witness: Most of the civilians, everybody got married. Whoever saw a woman will take her, some people looted.

Prosecutor: What do you mean by everyone got married?

Witness: We captured girls and made them our wives, we captured SBUs (Small Boy Units), gave them guns and got some civilians to work at our houses.

Prosecutor: What do you mean when you say they made them their wives?

Witness: They took them home, they slept with them

Prosecutor: What do you mean they sleep with them?

Prosecutor: We are all matured people here, so I can't go beyond that, but when you say you have sex with someone

Prosecutor: Who had sex with who?

Witness: The RUF had sex with the girls

Prosecutor: Was anything taken from Makeni?

Witness: At the first instance yes. The first two weeks, people looted and later Issa said he was Temne and those were his people, so he started killing people who looted.

Prosecutor: I think this will be a convenient point to stop.

I second the prosecutor's call to stop, if only briefly, because in reading we can only sink into despair when you consider some of the more infamous cases such as Adama Cut Hand, a girl "in charge of the small boys group that was known as Cut Hand Group" who wore a necklace of human hands and carried decapitated heads of village chiefs. A vision that wouldn't be out of place in Joseph Conrad's opus.

V. Not A Civilian Thing


Let's put aside our sticks knives guns and arrows... no truth to reports on radio gold that there is tension

Charles Taylor and Foday Sankoh had very clear ideas about what making places fearful entailed. It is important to remember that much of this infrastructure of terror was planned, and that many of the participants were mere instruments of their will.

Witness: We had a message that was from Foday Sankoh through CO Mohamed for all the stations which were at the front line to go and run Operation Stop Elections, to go into those towns where the elections were to be conducted and to cause panic there so that the people will not conduct the elections.

Prosecutor: What do you mean by to go cause panic there?

Witness: To go and shoot in the places so the people will be afraid; they will run away and the elections will not be actualized.

Prosecutor: Do you know where Sankoh was when he issued this instruction?

Witness: he was in Ivory Coast.

The testimony from compromised characters was always revealing in how they sought to downplay their own roles amidst the mayhem that surrounded them. The case of a close collaborator like Moses Blah, who had been there at the start and would become Charles Taylor's Vice President, is an interesting case in point. From his testimony, it would appear that matters of blood never reached him despite his proximity: he was merely political and had clean hands. Sadly prosecutors didn't question him about his motivations, these lawyers kept to their brief to prove the their limited case against his boss and didn't explore the historical or novelistic context. One has to read between the lines for psychological insight. On the other hand, Blah was prepared to spill the beans about others, or rather talk about the bread and butter of wartime atrocities:

[Moses] Blah recounted a few occasions when punishments were carried out against soldiers, but said only Taylor had the authority to order punishments. Blah was not allowed to investigate members of Taylor's special forces. Blah testified about complaints that the commander of the Executive Mansion Guard abused civilians at checkpoints. Blah further testified that he had seen the head of the Marine Unit eating roasted human hands. In addition, Blah said he heard of an incident where the head of the Marine Unit ate the intestines of a farmer cooked together with the man's cassava harvest. Blah said he was reluctant to complain to Taylor about these incidents because they would be considered an attack on the Executive Mansion Guard unit. Blah recalled Yeaten's involvement in atrocities, and stated that Yeaten never faced punishment.

According to Blah, in 1991 Sankoh complained to him that the NPFL soldiers were committing atrocities in Sierra Leone, including raping women, killing civilians, and looting. According to Blah, Sankoh discussed this problem with Taylor. After this meeting, Taylor complained to Blah about Sankoh and said:

"When you talk about a guerrilla war there's destruction and this is the type of thing - and this type of thing must happen if you are fighting a war. You are not eating bread and butter, you are fighting."

- Taylor's Former Vice-president Describes Training, Arms Deliveries and Atrocities, Claims Cannibalism was Required to Join Taylor's Presidential Guard

The bread and butter, as it were, of this war was making the road fearful, causing panic, and destabilizing people and places.

Prosecutor: What was this Operation No Monkey?

Witness: I was there when Benjamin Yeaten instructed Zigzag Marzah and other fighters to go to Belle Forest and destabilize all the civilians that were in the forest and anybody who refused should be killed and no monkey should even stand in front of them. That was why they named the operation Operation No Monkey. No monkey can stay in that forest. Everybody should move from that forest to come to the safer area, because the LURD fighters were trying to get into Belle Forest to come to Bomi Hills and attack Monrovia and indeed they used the route. Zigzag Marzah went there and did the operation in Belle Forest.

Others would express the same sentiment, although less quotably than Charles Taylor.

"I want the whole world and the Sierra Leone people to know that there is no war without atrocities" - the RUF's Francis Momoh Musah in a statement to the TRC on 2 May 2003

Or consider Gullit and Five Five during a meeting where the infamous amputation strategy was formulated, cynically, and out of frustration.

"When we started cutting hands, hardly a day BBC would not talk about us"

"For any war there must be an atrocity for the outside world to know there is something wrong in the place"

Some would say that these were post-hoc rationalizations for unrestrained savagery, and this is explored at length in well researched appendices in the truth commissions and in the trial documents: Amputations in the Sierra Leone Conflict.

There was little difference between Operation No Monkey and Operation Spare no Soul, these were all merciless affairs.

Witness: Well, I can recall at that time when they said Abacha had died, Sani Abacha. So it was during that time - I can recall that operation because at that time people were happy, the RUF soldiers were, the commanders, everybody was happy at that time.

Prosecutor: And do you recall exactly what happened during that period?

Witness: Well, it was that time - because that time when Abacha died was the time that that mission was arranged, because the Spare No Soul mission, Sam Bockarie said because Abacha had died and he was one of the big men for ECOMOG and that he was dead the soldiers would be weakened, everybody would be discouraged, so if they undertook any operation at that time they would be able to chase the ECOMOG out and they would be able to regain their positions because they were sad at that time and that would weaken them. That was why the mission was called Operation Spare No Soul and they were not to capture soldiers - they were not to capture ECOMOG soldiers and take them to him in Buedu. Spare No Soul meant that anybody who saw any of them, they should kill those soldiers. Any soldier they saw was to be killed. They were not to take any soldier to him in Buedu.

Prosecutor: And do you recall what happened during the course of this operation?

Witness: Yes, Komba Gbundema reported that they killed many civilians and ECOMOG soldiers too during this operation.

Prosecutor: When you say Alice Pyne told you this, how did she tell you?

Witness: Well, she came on and said they went on a mission and said that was how things happened, that they killed many civilians and they said - and she said anybody who saw them, that person was a dead person. And anybody they saw too, that person was a dead person.

If - Komba Gbundema's group, that is the RUF fighters, if they spared any - if they wanted to for example spare the civilian, that civilian's hand would be amputated. That would be the only way they would spare that civilian.

The horrible acts had a gruesome soundtrack

Witness: What I listened to I heard them saying, "People were daring. Man den get mind o way den wan kot pipul den an, den day say, 'Pull yu han pan di war. Pull yu foot pan di war'."

Prosecutor: When you say, "Pull yu han pan di war. Pull yu foot pan di war", do you know what that translates to in English?

Witness: Well I don't know if you want me to speak English directly, but what I understood by that as I said yesterday because the people whose hands were amputated were civilians, it was the RUF fighters who amputated civilians' hands and their feet and whenever they wanted to do this action that was what they told the civilians, the expression I just said in Krio, which meant that they were not to be involved in the war. They were not to have anything to do with the war. It was not the business of a civilian...

Judge Doherty: Yes, please. Mr Interpreter, please interpret those words which the witness has used.

The Interpreter "Pull yu han pan di war", your Honours, is translated "Take your hand off the war". "Pull yu foot pan di war" is translated "Take your foot off the war".

Such behavior is the signal and iconic legacy of Charles Taylor and Foday Sankoh.

Witness: Well, from what I understood, the Kamajors, like they called them, they were the Civil Defense Forces. I did not know that they had gone to any particular training base to be trained as combatants, or as soldiers. So we took them to be civilians who had guns, they had cutlasses, fighting against the RUF. Because they were calling them civilians, they were telling them that the civilians should take their hands off the war and to take their foot off the war, it was not a civilian thing.

Prosecutor: You said the RUF was using this expression. Who were they using it to?

Witness: Any of those civilians whom they captured when they were amputating his hand or foot.

But let us catch up with Superman a few months after the so-called Fitti-Fatta mission failed

Prosecutor: And exactly what was Superman instructed to do?

Witness: Well, Sam Bockarie told Superman that he should set one or two examples on civilians so that will instill fear in the other civilians and they will not be leaking information to the ECOMOG soldiers.

Prosecutor: How was Superman supposed to set examples - an example on civilians?

Witness: Well, he was to kill either one or two or to amputate some of their hands and to tell them to take their hands off the war...

Prosecutor: Do you know whether these instructions were carried out by Superman?

Witness: Yes, after two or three days I heard it over the SLBS radio that around the Kono axis rebels were cutting off civilians' hands and they were killing civilians.

Prosecutor: Is that all that you learnt about what happened?

Witness: After that, I enquired in the station, I went there, and it was not long after that that Sam Bockarie went there and he called Komba Gbundema to be sure that was what had occurred in the place. And Sam Bockarie told Komba Gbundema that that was enough, he said because as long as the whole world had heard about the killings and the amputations let that be enough, let it stop there.

Sometimes "fearful" is rendered as "fearsome", but the result is always the same:

Witness: ...before Issa left he said we were guerrillas and anywhere a guerrilla was you should make the area fearsome. In the RUF when we talk about making the area fearsome it is a word that carries different meanings. It means we should burn down houses, destroy other properties, killing and construct road blockades and destroy bridges. That would help in making the area fearsome. That was the instruction he gave.

In many respects the evidence against Charles Taylor was overwhelming, but his attorneys would argue that it was always second hand hearsay - after all people like Mosquito were dead and could not be cross-examined. Still, the extent of his ambition and hunger for power are brought to light in all the testimony.

Prosecutor: Did Sam Bockarie indicate to you in his discussions with Mr Taylor if there was any discussion about how the attack should be carried out in order to free Sankoh?

Witness: Yes, he said they discussed it. After he had shown those places to him they discussed that we should run that mission to ensure that we free Foday Sankoh and others and on the operation we should ensure that the ammunition is not wasted. We should make the operation fearful than all the other operations that we had undertaken because we want to make sure that we take Freetown and hold on to power.

VI. No Longer Human Beings


in peace and harmony protect our nation

The pathology was widespread and it was all a few could do to simply bear witness:

Prosecutor: Who was Zigzag Marzah?

Witness: He too was a fighter in Liberia under Charles Taylor's government.

Prosecutor: How did you know that he was a fighter in Liberia under Charles Taylor's government?

Witness: Well I used to hear his name, but I never knew him. That was the first day I knew him.

Prosecutor: When you say you used to hear his name, what did you hear about his name?

Witness: Well, I used to hear people saying that he ate human beings, that he did not - he was not hesitant, he would kill human beings and he would eat human beings, and from that time I kept that name at the back of my mind. So when I heard that he was to come and indeed I saw him, I asked - I said, "Where is the man?", and he was pointed out to me and I looked at him, I stared at him, to know what sort of human being he was to be doing things like those. So, that was how I knew him.

Betrayals were commonplace and it turns out that Superman, a man who made his wartime reputation for abducting youngsters and training them to be Small Boy Units was killed by those he thought were friends.

Prosecutor: Mr Witness, what did Reflection tell you about who shot Superman?

The answer is that joint criminal enterprises are often unstable affairs.

In 2002 when the war intensified in Liberia, 2002 to 2003, when I used to go and fight and come back and sit down with him, he used to tell me, "Son, you are really trying for us, but we regret the death of your boss. People misled us to kill Superman." He told me that people told them that they used to see Superman at the American embassy. That was why they killed him, but he regretted. I had nothing to say. I just sat down and smiled. Yes, Benjamin Yeaten himself told me that he regretted why he killed Superman
talking drums 1985-08-05 Liberia Doe shedding military imagetalking drums 1984-08-06 Challenge to Siaka Stevens - Rawlings has no regrets

One of the participants in Superman's death was the aforementioned Zigzag Marzah, head of Charles Taylor's accurately named Death Squad, and his cross-examination is hair-raising. That he is still walking around as a free man is one of the great injustices of the world. The headlines and summaries (e.g. Zigzag Marzah Says Taylor Ordered Cannibalism; Defense Works to Discredit his Testimony) simply do not do justice to the harrowing depths of the actual text. It should be read in full:

Defense: So you're talking about when the NPFL entered Liberia. Are you saying that at that stage Charles Taylor ordered you to eat Krahns?

Witness (Zigzag Marzah): I told you yes, yes. Any activity against which you did not take action was appreciated by him. What Doe did by taking our own people, not just Doe, Charles Julu, he himself went as far as eating some of the Nimbalian children from school campuses. When he kills them they would butcher them in the street. Like AK Pa [phon], he did that there so many times.

Defense: Now according to you at the time that the NPFL entered Liberia you were under the command of Prince Johnson who didn't allow this kind of thing. So help me please, who was it who told you to eat Krahns?

Zigzag Marzah: Thank you very much. Prince Johnson did not go far enough in the war. We were in Tiaplay when Charles Taylor wanted - his Specials Forces wanted to kill him and he ran away from us. But when he came to encourage us mostly Nimbalians to join his forces, that whatever Doe did to your people you should revenge and carry out the same act and what they did to us was what we did to them. We hadn't any sea port or container to put the children there or this or that rather than to go and fight against them and destroy them.

Judge Doherty: Pause, Mr Witness. The question is who told you to eat Krahns? Please answer that question.

Zigzag Marzah: I said yes sir, yes sir. I said Charles Taylor.

Defense: Very well. And did Charles Taylor order you to eat people in Sierra Leone as well?

Zigzag Marzah: Yes, sir, to set example for the forces to be afraid.

Defense: So help me, where in Sierra Leone did you eat people?

Zigzag Marzah: It happened when we were disarming the ECOMOG by his directive. He said that those Nigerians were disturbing the south eastern region, when we captured them we should eat them. Even the UN, when we were disarming them he said he didn't want any of those white people to pass through Freetown to go, so when we get them we can use them as pork.

Defense: Port or pork?

Zigzag Marzah: Pork. Pork to eat. Pig. Food.

Defense: So Charles Taylor told you you could eat Nigerians and white people as pork?

Zigzag Marzah: The Nigerian - the Nigerians and the UN. He said the remaining Africans which will pass with them through Buedu, he will turn them over to the international communities, but the others, like the Nigerians and some other people, we should kill them and do anything we want to do with them and that was what we were supposed to do with them is what I am telling you.

Defense: So, Mr Marzah, Charles Taylor ordered you to eat Nigerians --

Zigzag Marzah: Yes.

Defense: -- and white UN officials. How did he give you that order? Was it in person or was it over the radio or what?

Zigzag Marzah: It was not over radio. When Mosquito went for the first time when ECOMOG were deployed and he gave the instruction for us to go and disarm the ECOMOG he said he hasn't got any room. Even when there is no food guerrillas live by their fellow human beings, so we should live by them when had there was no food. So that was how we were living by them, by eating them. There he is sitting down.

Defense: How many UN soldiers or ECOMOG soldiers did you eat?

Zigzag Marzah: Thank you very much. The ECOMOG soldiers, the Nigerian troops, we eat a few, but not many. But many were executed, about 68. Those who were captured were executed. And the UN troops, the whites, after we had taken them to Vahun to Benjamin Yeaten's base Benjamin Yeaten himself executed about --

Defense: No, no, let's forget about executions --

Zigzag Marzah: Wait. Wait now. You can't eat them alive. You can't eat human beings alive. You have to execute them before you eat them, right.

Defense: Right. And did you cook them as well?

Zigzag Marzah: Yes, I participated. You think if my senior commander does something I will deviate from it?

Defense: So help me, please, just how do you prepare a human being for a pot?

Zigzag Marzah: I am sorry there's no way to demonstrate here because we are sitting.

Defense: Just describe it to us?

Zigzag Marzah: Okay. The way we do it, the way you're standing, sometimes we lay you down, slit your throat and butcher you and take out your skin, your flesh, throw your head away, your intestines, your flesh, we take it and put it in a pot and cook it and eat it. The way you're standing, you cannot stay like that and we eat you. We would kill you first and take those parts that are not good for us and this your palm, your two palms, we would put them together and clean inside your intestine and wrap it around, because it's not correct. It's a hard bone. Charles Taylor knows that. That's how we eat them.

Defense: And did you have a preference for white people, Nigerians or Krahns, which ones taste the best?

Zigzag Marzah: Yes, I have likeness for them, but there was no alternative to do it my own way. There was no was no alternative to do it your own way. As long as it was Charles Taylor who gave instruction and you did anything your own way you would be surely executed. If I'm lying, the remaining UN troops, the Africans that passed through --

Judge Doherty: Mr Witness, pause. You have deviated from the answer.

Defense: Now I mean that wasn't the only instant where you ate human flesh. You also ate Superman's heart, didn't you?

Zigzag Marzah: Yes, by the directive and a ceremony in Ben's yard by the time we turned over his hand to Charles Taylor.

Defense: And did Charles Taylor tell you as well to eat Superman's heart?

Zigzag Marzah: Yes, yes.

Defense: Where were you when he told you to do that?

Zigzag Marzah: Ask he himself. I can --

Judge Doherty: Mr Witness, I've told you before, no facetious replies.

Defense: Where were you when Charles Taylor told you to eat Superman's heart?

Zigzag Marzah: When after he had passed the instruction, because in his security meeting he said whatever instruction comes from Ben should be executed, whatever instruction came from Ben should be executed. Whoever does not go by Ben's instruction would be dealt with. So when we killed the men - the man and he said we should take out the heart and Charles Taylor said we should eat the heart and take the hand to him. So in my presence Ben and I entered at the back of his yard. He went inside in Charles Taylor's house and turned Superman's hand over to him and from there he gave us $200 each, went into his car and bought - he went and bought the ingredients to cook the man's heart with. That's how I believed that that was his instruction.

Defense: So it wasn't Charles Taylor who actually told you, it was Benjamin Yeaten?

Zigzag Marzah: It was Charles Taylor. It was Charles Taylor. It was Charles Taylor. Listen to my explanation.

Defense: So help me one final time because we're running out of time. Where were you when Charles Taylor gave you the instruction to eat Superman's heart?

Zigzag Marzah: At that time we had already executed Superman. We were in Monrovia with the man's heart and the arm.

Judge Doherty: Mr Witness, listen to the question. The question is about a place. Where were you? Where?

Zigzag Marzah: Okay, we were in Monrovia. In Monrovia. In Monrovia.

Defense: Where in Monrovia was it that Charles Taylor stood in front of you and said, "Zigzag, I want you not only to cut off his hand but to also eat his heart". Where were you when Taylor said that to you?

Prosecutor: Objection, your Honour. As stated the question assumes facts that the witness has not testified to.

Judge Doherty: You're being overly precise, Mr Griffiths. You're assuming that the person was in front of him, et cetera.

Defense: Was there ever a time when you stood in front of Charles Taylor physically like now and he said to you, "Zigzag, I want you to go out and eat a human being" or a part of a human being?

Zigzag Marzah: Apart from Superman?

Defense: Anyone. Anybody?

Zigzag Marzah: Okay, thank you.

Defense: Whether he be white --

Zigzag Marzah: Thank you, I understand. It happened twice when Gbarnga fell. I stood physically before Charles Taylor at the time Robin White was interviewing him. They were standing beside a jeep and he was telling the man that he was in his yard. That is the time he telephoned the Death Squad for me to carry out that execution. Anywhere there are human beings, you should eat them. They are no longer human beings. I was not in position to eat them raw, rather than to cook them with pepper and salt and fix some barbecue with them. It was from Gbarnga.

Defense: Would that be a convenient point, your Honour?

Judge Doherty: Indeed, Mr Griffiths. We will take the normal mid-morning adjournment.

The above remarkable exchange is the purest theater that real life can offer. There is drama, humour, horror, absurdity and tragedy at once. If we started out wondering who shot Superman, we are now beyond the gruesome mechanics of the deed, and deep into the aftermath, discussing not just Superman's death but also his dismemberment and consumption. Consider the defense attorney's barely disguised incredulity at the allegations of cannibalism and his dogged persistence in trying to discredit the witness and prove that his client had not given direct orders as alleged. He presses the point repeatedly: "Where were you when Charles Taylor told you to eat Superman's heart?" Consider the gusto and argumentative posture of the witness, a remorseless serial killer who also happens to be very charismatic - he gives great copy is what journalists would say, and polite to a fault (he prefaces almost all his answers with thank you very much). Zigzag Marzah is a courteous zombie by definition, and one who performs his master's demands without question. Add the Judge's interjections, and the Prosecution's objections, and let's not forget the witness diving eagerly into the discussion about the mechanics of dressing and eating humans, the willingness to demonstrate and regale the audience with recipes of pork, salt, pepper, and barbeque techniques. It is a quite remarkable performance.

Zigzag Marzah would carry on in his testimony to insist that he was just following the laws of his "poro society" and engaging in killing and cannibalism with its leader Charles Taylor - recounting several other instances when they had shared meals of human hearts or 'livers' as they would call them. Delivering Superman's hand in person to Charles Taylor was not a sufficiently final outcome, his heart also needed to be consumed. Thus a very perverse tradition of secret societies came to be wartime normalcy.

Every emotion is heightened in the transcript leading to the realization by all at the end of the exchange that everyone has been tainted by what they have heard. If the witness's victims were indeed "no longer human beings" (Charles Taylor's explicit justification for the indignities inflicted on them at, and after, death), then how are we we to classify him, the perpetrator? What did the aptly named Reflection think about witnessing these gruesome deeds? And what about everyone in that courtroom debating the issue? And what about us, the later readers of these transcripts? Well, we were all victims.

VII. The Bitterness of War


let's put aside our sticks, knives, guns and arrows

I've previously discussed the dilemmas faced by my mother and her colleagues working at the BBC's African service in how they dealt with the various warlords in the Liberian and Sierra Leonean civil wars. Were they giving these colorful and ever-quotable miscreants too much oxygen and exposure for their nefarious deeds? Were their stories "news" or was the simple act of acknowledging them making "news"? For the warlords would suspend hostilities without fail when 1700 GMT came around and the first edition of the Focus on Africa bulletin would start. They would get on their satellite phones and call the studio to see if they could get on air to discuss their dirty war. There was considerable discomfort and even guilt in the halls of Bush House.

Witness: Well, we heard that Charles Taylor and his rebels were fighting in Liberia. Then at one time we heard over the radio that he was saying that they were using Sierra Leone as an ECOMOG base to launch attacks in Liberia, so Sierra Leone will face the bitterness of war one day.

Prosecutor: Now, again, Mr Witness, when you heard this BBC programme who did you know was Charles Taylor?

Witness: Well, we heard that he was the rebel leader for the NPFL who entered into Liberia.

Witness: We heard that they were fighting in Liberia. We also heard that Taylor said they were using Sierra Leone as an ECOMOG base and so Sierra Leone will taste the bitterness of war.

Prosecutor: And when you heard this programme on the radio how did you know that it was Charles Taylor talking?

Witness: Well, he himself, when he was being interviewed, when Robin White was interviewing him, we heard his name.

Prosecutor: And Robin White, who was Robin White?

Witness: Well, Robin White was a BBC reporter that we knew about.

There was more than enough prima facie evidence of misdeeds to convict Charles Taylor, yet it was the blood diamond angle pursued by prosecutors that was the highest profile strand to the case - the glamour of Naomi Campbell proved irresistible. There is lots in the testimony about the mechanics of abductions and forced labor in mines with considerable details of the mining operations, the two pile system and the casual cruelty towards the slave labour workforce. There is a long chain of evidence leading ultimately to the trading of mayonnaise jars of diamonds in exchange for arms and ammunition.

The destructive use of child soldiers loaded with drugs and forced under compulsion of death to do awful deeds is also highlighted at length. We are in the presence of malevolence.

Defense: And how old was this child?

Witness: One year, some months. Close to two years.

Defense: You were at Superman Ground with a child of a year and a few months old and you gave your child to Sebatu, yes?

Witness: Yes

Defense: And in one of your interviews with the Office of the Prosecutor you told them that that child was essentially killed in what you said was a sacrifice ritual by Sam Bockarie, yes?

Witness: Yes

Defense: Was the child killed in 1998?

Witness: 1999

Defense: Do you know what month your child was killed in 1999?

Witness: In March...

Defense: And from the time when your child was killed by Sam Bockarie up until disarmament you have told us that you facilitated radio communication at certain times between Buedu and Superman, yes?

Witness: Yes

Defense: You were conveying messages from the same Sam Bockarie, who killed your child, to Superman, yes?

Witness: Yes

Defense: Did you ask how it came to be that he killed your child?

Witness: I did not ask, but I knew. And the person who was sent to bring the child said so. Issa Sesay too said so, that that was happened to my child. And when I saw my sister she also explained to me that that was what had transpired.

Defense: What exactly did Sam Bockarie do to your child? What do you mean by "sacrifice ritual"?

Witness: I don't want to explain further than that.

Judge: Pause, Mr Anyah. Madam Witness, you have been asked a question and you said you did not want to explain further. Why do you not want to explain further? Madam Witness, would you like a break or would you like somebody from WVS to assist you?

Witness: starts crying. Witness, however, says she is fine and will continue.

Defense: Madam Witness, you told the Prosecution not long ago this month, the month of June 2008, that Sam Bockarie killed your child in a sacrifice ritual. What does sacrifice ritual mean, Madam Witness?

Witness: He sacrificed him for power. They did not kill him. They buried him alive. From the person who did that are the person whom they sent, he told me...

There is no time to pause on the distressing stories during the cross examination, the defense simply presses on, and the topic turns from sacrifice ritual to herbalists and juju.

Defense: You spoke about some herbalists, seven of them you said, Liberians, that were sent to Sam Bockarie, yes?

Witness: Yes.

Defense: Were they just seven, or were they more than seven?

Witness: There were more than seven, but those who were heading the herbalists, those who were doing the job, were seven...

Defense: And at some point Sam Bockarie sent those herbalists to join you and Superman, is that correct?

Witness: Yes, we went and collected them.

Defense: And what was the purpose of having these herbalists?

Witness: I think I have said that before. They came to mark our bodies, like the other soldiers who were in the RUF, as a protective measure for - so that when they attack, bullets will not pierce them.

Defense: And indeed, this morning you added that the herbalists were sent by Charles Taylor, correct?

Witness: Yes.

Defense: And if what this woman says is true, then it means that the President of Liberia was sending the RUF herbalists to protect them with I think you said juju, yes?

Witness: Yes.

Defense: While fighting war, yes?

Witness: That was what he told me.

Defense: And juju is what?

Judge Sebutinde: Mr Interpreter, who is the "he"?

The Interpreter: Your Honours, it is not actually clear in the witness's answer. In Krio we do not have any distinction between a he and a she. She just said, "That was what he told me."

Judge Sebutinde: Was she talking about a herbalist, or a Gbandi woman?

The Interpreter: Well, I do not know in her answer. That is the train that is continuing.

Judge Doherty: Please clarify the point.

Defense: The person who told you Charles Taylor sent this herbalist was the Gbandi woman, correct?

Witness: Yes.

Defense: And to put my question again, if what she says is true then it would mean that the President of Liberia at the time, Charles Taylor, in 1998 was sending over herbalists to use juju, the phrase that you used, to protect RUF fighters from bullets, correct?

Witness: I said that was what the herbalist woman told me.

The discussion, which sets out on the issue of the belief system that would send herbalists to protect members of a militia from bullets, takes an unexpected turn into matters of interpretation and syntax and dives into languages that do not differentiate gender. Dialog worthy of Beckett (or perhaps Stoppard if you are that way inclined).

There are many close calls with death, especially harrowing whenever Chucky Taylor, Charles Taylor's sociopathic son was involved. Thankfully a few lived to tell the tale.

Defense: During the course of the day, one of your captures while feeding you manages to drop the metal spoon in the pit, you and your colleague manage to break the metal spoon in half and cut your bonds?

Witness: Yes.

Defense: So this is the third time you are escaping?

Witness: No the second time

Defense: How did you manage to escape so many times?

Witness: Human instinct

Defense: Why weren't you executed?

Witness: It was a blessing I had.

Note here how the witness deflects the continued skepticism of the defense attorney who tries to raise issues of credibility. This undercurrent of dramatic tension raises the stakes throughout the proceedings.

Witness: Except when you are telling me now but Sesay Musa told me that his brother was the ambassador and he was a late man.

Judge: What do you mean by he was a late man?

Witness: He said he was dead

Sometimes the testimony devolves into absurd minutiae, consider this argument about the price of pizza in Monrovia (the defense is trying to challenge a witness's credibility, implying he was paid to lie).

Defense: You could eat a lot in Ganta for 25 US dollars, couldn't you?

Witness: One piece of pizza is more than $25 in Liberia.

Defense: US dollars for one piece of pizza?

Witness: US dollars, yes.

Defense: Hang on.

Witness: Yes, yes, pizza, yes.

Defense: Hang on. Wait for me to finish the question before you start interrupting and laughing. Are you seriously telling this Court that a piece of pizza in Ganta costs more than $25 US?

Witness: In Monrovia, not in Ganta. Monrovia. Monrovia. Yes, in Monrovia. And I can locate the areas to you for you to make a background investigation.

Defense: So it would cost more than the rent of one of your motorbikes for a whole day just to eat a piece of pizza?

Witness: When you bring me to Monrovia I would have to eat, eat good food, yes, but from the money I get from my motorbikes I cannot take that to go and buy pizza, but in Ganta I eat what I eat, but at any time I come to Monrovia when - I eat what I want to eat because like I'm here, they brought me here, when you bring me here you have to feed me. What I want to eat is what I ask for, it's what I eat.

Sometimes there are moments of levity although they are quickly challenged.

Defense: If you look at that document in the middle of the page, paragraph 2 says: "Subsistence allowance. Witness: was brought under the protection of the Court on 20 August 2006. To date he has been paid a total of 13,122,800 leones."

What is amusing you about that?

Witness: Nothing made me to laugh about that. It is just my usual habit. I am not laughing. I am chuckling.

If the defense would challenge many of the witnesses, in all too many cases it would be inhuman to question the overwhelming evidence that was being presented against their clients and so the summaries would end: "the Defense had no questions for this witness".

Ultimately, the rebel commander ordered a boy no more than 13 years-old to cut off the witness's arms. After his arms were amputated, the witness testified that "Rambo" arrived at the village, and he was angry with the rebels for killing some civilians and amputating the limbs of others. The witness reported that Rambo gave him money and told him to endure the pain, because that was what God had ordained. The witness testified that before the amputation he was a petty trader, but that since 1999, when this incident happened, his only source of income has been begging.

The Defense had no questions for this witness.

VIII. Reflection


reflection

The machinery of the law works slowly and despite my stance of permanent outrage, I've often thought that this slowness, this bureaucracy, was a good thing. It is an antidote to rushed judgement and an aid to careful reflection on tort and damage - collateral and intended. I expect that lawyers are still interrogating Slobodan Miloševic in whatever part of hell he is - his five years facing trial at the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia were clearly not enough. Similarly, Charles Taylor's comfortable jail library ought to consist solely of these trial transcripts.

And yet the trial setting can be a little unsatisfactory for the historian or cultural observer whose intent is to plumb the depths of a tragedy for psychological insight. Memory is difficult - the recollection of often traumatic events can lack coherence. Defense lawyers can seize on the smallest inconsistencies to raise doubt. Prosecutors have to show certain facts as they lay out their case and oftentimes, they stick to a limited brief. The distinction between what can be proved and what actually happened is a sharp one. We have to balance our desire for a full accounting against the right of defendants to have a fair and public hearing and what can be proven in a court of law.

I've focused mainly on one thread in reading these transcripts, the cautionary aspect (with occasional diversions into the absurd journeys that language can take one on). And it is this notion of caution that keeps me at night whenever I've seen the signposts of political violence raised in my own country, Ghana. It leads me to be a scold of sorts and to engage in jeremiads. It is worth emphasizing that it didn't take much for things to fall apart in Liberia and Sierra Leone. It took just a few well-connected rogues with a willingness to do their worst. Charles Taylor, Foday Sankoh and company numbered in the dozens when they started their campaign of confidence artistry, terror and conquest. Their sheer bloody-minded will, a will that went beyond any animating ideology, found fertile ground in the intrinsic cracks in Liberian and Sierra Leonean society and caused a thoroughgoing disaster whose after-effects still reverberate decades later (think of the response to the current Ebola outbreaks).

There are many more lenses through which to view the violent conflicts outlined here. An equally fruitful reading would focus on the rogues gallery jostling for the loot and influence - an international cast of Liberian and Sierra Leonean warlords, Guinean adventurers, Gambian, Ivorians and Burkinabe meddlers, Senegalese, Israelis, Libyans, Syrians, Lebanese, Saudis or, more broadly, 'the Arabs' as the locals called them, Belgian diamond traders, Bulgarian financiers, Slovenian weapons smugglers, Italian mafioso, psychopahic teenagers with identity issues, ex-CIA officers, Australian mining companies, Swiss bankers, US rubber (and robber) barrons, quiet American country preachers such as Pat Robertson and Jesse Jackson, and even the ostensible good guys, the Nigerians and Ghanaians who formed the bulk of the ECOMOG regional peacekeeping force but whose senior officers often took the freelance war profiteer route. As in Angola, this conflict did not happen in a vacuum. The evidence is there for the careful reader.

By and large, the prosecutors efforts to gain convictions for the wider strands of this joint criminal enterprise were frustrated. On the other hand, unlike the Indonesia depicted in The Act of Killing, not everyone is walking around with impunity years later. There has been some measure of justice in the proceedings even beyond the convictions of a few like Charles Taylor. True, many others have escaped accountability, but, certainly, no one is celebrating their wartime acts and appalling behavior, the perpetrators have been chastened. And if the palliative of truth and reconciliation commissions and international trials is not an effective cure for the damage inflicted, it is cathartic and, at the very least, a step in the right direction.

As Theodore Roethke put it in his celebrated poem:

In a dark time, the eye begins to see

Our novelists have found fertile ground in the soil of this conflict but their creative works needn't stand alone. The stories leap out of the pages and therein lies the enduring legacy of the Special Court on Sierra Leone. I find comfort in the shadows of these trial transcripts. The stories they outline cast a light on modern Africa, unvarnished and denuded of any imputed childlike innocence. While we set about strengthening the cement of our society, let us have no illusions about our frailty. As we pursue the mundane work of development, let us be vigilant in safeguarding our bite-sized triumphs for, ultimately, the game of the rough beast is about who is writing the script. And so I'll write my own script.

Soundtrack for this note (listen)

Index

Previously in Part I: Close Encounters

Next in Part III: Enter Doctor Simbo


See also: Naming Conventions

File under: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,