Beauty and the Beast

It’s marvellous what a bit of national pride will do. Where, for years neglect and squalor prevailed, someone has realised that, even though filth and chaos are typical of the Congo, we must pretend otherwise.

Coming back after ten days, yes TEN DAYS, I arrive at a new airport. Gone is the dumpy old yellow heavy concrete airport of fifty years – in its place is a sleek steel and glass edifice, as modern as anything that New York might have to offer. Of course I know what most visitors will not know, that the steel and glass is a totally sham facade, erected just in front of the old building in a desperate attempt to pretend that the Congo doesn’t do old airports. Inside the arrivals hall the grimy ceiling and two dim bulbs have been replaced by a modern white ceiling with multiple recessed lights, beaming down onto new, flashy blue moulded counters for immigration officials, replacing awkwardly high tatty plywood kiosks. Even the official reception is different: the hostile stare from above has been replaced by prompt and pleasant service.

The car park has similarly been jazzed up. All the kerb stones have been painted in the alternating national colours of pale blue and bright yellow. There are desperate efforts – too late alas – to improve the dusty surroundings by planting grass and trees. Too late because THE SHOW starts in five days, but the grass hasn’t even started to grow and the trees are tiny. 

THE SHOW is, of course, the Francophone summit which is to take place from 12^th to 14^th October. Francois Hollande is coming, as well as Presidents from all over Africa. An opportunity for the DRC, and its President, to prove that their reputation for mismanagement and corruption is undeserved.

Once on the main road into town, one is struck by many brand new billboards welcoming visitors to Kinshasa. The most prominent ones are, typically, by the breweries, closely followed by well meaning banks – even a Nigerian Bank which swears, hand on its heart, that it is francophone. And, of course, the Mayor of Kinshasa wishes all visitors a very happy stay in his beautiful city.

Driving into town the transformation continues. Amazingly, (like the steel and glass facade of the airport) half of the new road has been completed in record time, and all that remains of the stygian filth that used to characterise the roadside, are heaps waiting to be collected. Around the main stadium there are more desperate attempts to grass the acres of bare earth, and a craft village of thatched huts has been built.

Readers will know that the clean-up started months ago in the centre of the city (see Cleanliness 101).  What seemed impossible at that time was that so many street sweepers would continue to be engaged right up until now, but they were. There are so many of them, with so little work to do, that they have been waiting under the trees for leaves to drop so that they have something to sweep up, and in the ultimate absurdity, have been sweeping the bottom of potholes.

We know that matters are really serious when we reach the Grand Hotel which is now graced by a number of republican guards, trying hard to look menacing. And on the approaches to the river, the sandbags at the military check points, that had long ago started to split from age, have been replaced, and nicely decorated with dabs of camouflage paint.

National pride clearly has its advantages. But there’s another side to it. The Government is terrified that the event will be used as an opportunity by the opposition hold demonstrations, to (rightly) accuse Kabila of rigging the elections and suppressing basic human rights. They have even threatened to disrupt the show altogether. So national pride dictates that the opposition has to be contained, and their strongholds in the city – even five days before the event – have been surrounded and check points established to prevent the free movement of people.

That apart, the clean up is obviously wonderful from everyone’s point of view. Let’s hope that the cynic in one is proved wrong, and that it won’t be a flash in the pan.