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OUT OF AFRICA By Mike Thomson (reporter for the Today Programme)
First we were told that French traffic controllers were on strike. Then it was French bag handlers, then French pilots. Confusion reigned. One thing was for sure though. Whoever it was they were definitely French and so the out flight to Paris and then on to Benin was definitely delayed.
Producer, Richard Knight and myself reacted by staring for long periods at the departure room carpet, wondering if we would make our connection in Paris. Actually, I only spent a small time doing that. Most of my energy went on wondering how anyone could chose such a strange shade of blue and what had been responsible for the large black stain near the leg of my chair.
After an hour or two of carpet centred contemplation our boarding call finally came. We were bound for Benin to compile the first of a series of reports to mark the United Nation's Africa Day on May 25th. We landed at Benin's biggest city, Cotonou, and sailed through customs and immigration and on to our hotel without a hitch.
The next two days were spent investigating the rather sordid subject of child trafficking, a trade that is rife in Benin. 50,000 children each year are sold into virtual slavery by often well meaning parents who often believe trafficker's promises that they'll be well paid and educated. Most land up doing back breaking work for nothing and some are never heard from again. We talked to many parents, children, Ministers, nuns and even a self confessed trafficker who claimed to be doing it for the good of the children. Hmmm.
Having assembled the report on our return to Cotonou all we had to do now was file it to London using our satellite equipment. It was then that I received a call in my room from Richard. "I have just been grabbed by two men in the lobby and they have made off with all our satellite gear" he told me calmly. I rushed downstairs preparing to do battle with angry child traffickers, kidnappers or opportunistic thieves.
A finger tapped me on the shoulder as I emerged from the lift. "You have broken hotel rules by operating complex technological equipment without permission" It's owner was one of two security men that worked for Novotel, the hotel we were staying in. "But, I replied, how can we be expected to ask permission to be excused from a rule that we didn't know existed in the first place!?" "Your equipment will remain here and so will both of you until this is sorted out" came the officious reply. Our very mission now hung in the balance. It was time to contact the almighty.
UNHCR's country representative, Phillipe Duamelle, who I had interviewed the day before, responded quickly to my call for help. As he arrived on his big white charger, a UN 4 x 4 Land Cruiser, the manager made his excuses and left. Monsieur Duamelle politely mopped up the remaining resistance. Our equipment, along with Richard himself, was reluctantly returned. Though we decided not to push and luck by trying to file my report again from here. This would have to wait until our next stop, Lagos.
Nothing quite prepared us for Nigeria's biggest city. Not even being told by several Nigerians who had lived there that it was not for the faint hearted, or indeed, anybody with any form of free will. It is motoring mayhem, a smokey, congested, fume filled arena of traffic jams, power cuts, crime, corruption and mile upon mile of depravation and decay. Or at least, that's how I described it in a pre-recorded commentary as we drove into the city. "Am I overdoing it a little?" I asked Richard. "No" came the reply, "Some might say you were pulling your punches."
Later that night Jim Naughtie and duty Editor, Alexis Condon arrived to complete Today's outside broadcast team. We all sat down for dinner. Jim was feeling adventurous. "I'll have the goat soup" he told the waiter. I was intrigued. What form might this take? How much of the goat was Jim going to get? We waited and waited. Jim repeatedly enquired about its whereabouts as the clock whirled round. Much to Jim's disappointment, not to mention our own, the goat never came. Not that Jim ever completely gave up. He prepared himself for a possible call from the kitchen in the twilight hours.
In the morning we all charged hither and thither recording interviews, editing reports and finalising arrangements for the live broadcast the next day. All went well until a power cut hit our hotel mid-afternoon. Everything ground to a halt. "It won't last long" I assured everyone, no need to worry. But it did last long. Finally just as it was almost dark, the management offered to transfer us to another hotel. Frantic packing followed. In the growing darkness we fumbled about searching for clothes, laptops, toothbrushes and odd bits of kit. Disparate and increasingly desperate 成人快手 figures groped in the gloom.
After lugging our cases down five floors of stairs we all, literally, threw them in a taxi, piled in behind and sped off. After all, time was marching on. On arrival at our new hotel relief that the lights were all working faded fast. Alexis had discovered that we could not get a signal on any of our satellite equipment. We changed rooms, tried different floors, different sides of the building and even hanging from the balcony. All to no avail. No signal meant no programme in the morning. Even the loss of Jim's goat soup couldn't compare with that.
But eventually, after a blistering sequence of room changes that had left the hotel reception staff spinning like fruit machines Alexis struck gold. 560! He shouted from the four floors above! 560! For the uninitiated, that is the strength of signal he was now getting on our satellite receiver. It meant the programme was on.
It was then that I asked Richard where he had put the media accreditation papers that all journalists are required to have when working in Nigeria. It seems he hadn't wanted to worry us. On going to collect them that morning he had been told by a government official that they wouldn't be ready until Friday. That would have been fine. The problem was that we broadcast live from the hotel on Wednesday and would have flown home the day after that.
I had visions of Nigerian government officials storming into our makeshift transmission room whilst we were live on air demanding to see our accreditation papers. A nightmare re-run of equipment grabbing hotel security staff in Benin, only much, much worse. Jim Naughtie would be carted off in handcuffs with the rest of us trailing on behind in a kicking and screaming chain gang. And all of it live on Radio.
Thankfully that didn't happen. The programme from Lagos, which included live interviews with a former army general and the king of the country's corruption busters, went perfectly. We got what we came for and more.
On arriving back at the office a colleague asked me: "How did it go"
"Fine, I replied, no problem at all."
I mean, I didn't want to worry them about that missing goat soup.
Mike
Look at the pictures taken whilst they were in Africa.
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