It's a funny country

Living and learning

We’re invited (hand delivered, no less).to a half-hour lecture presented by a charity for the disabled to celebrate World Health Day. Here’s the programme

8.00  Organising committee completes its work

9.00 Arrival of journalists and chief medical officer of the area.

9.30 Arrival of the Bourgmestre (mayor) of the commune, and national partners

9.40 Arrival of international partners, Secretaries General of the Ministries of Health and Social Affairs, religious authorities and WHO representative

9.50 Arrival of the Minister of Health

10.00 Start of the proceedings: national anthem, introductions and welcomes

10.30 Speech on health for all including the handicapped

11.00 Debate

11.30 Closure, including the reading of a review of the day’s proceedings, the national anthem and refreshments.

The wedding

The boss is looking very down today, and I can’t help feeling concerned. Then he comes out with it:

“I’m getting married today. If you’d like to come, you might get a beer. The invitation says 1, o’clock but come at about four and you should be OK.” He hands me an elaborately decorated envelope.

We arrive at about 3.30, one of the earliest guests, and nearer five the ceremony starts in a small garden next to the apartment block in which has been erected  a little canopy for the ceremony. It is conducted by the mayor of the commune whose first name is Dolly. His idea of a wedding ceremony is to read the whole of the marriage act, repeating several times the part which states that it has to be between a man and a woman. Before the rings are exchanged the couple have to raise their left hand to prove that neither has a ring and therefore is not already married.

Two days later  one of our senior staff and father of five asks for ten days leave, starting tomorrow. “What’s the problem?” I ask. “I’m going to get married,” he said, “so need to make the arrangements. And I’ll need a week in August for the wedding.” “Same woman?” I ask, cheekily. Of course it was: he had needed ten years to save enough money.

Intelligence

We live near the President’s house and office so of course the roads are perfect and the streets are clean. The cleanliness is ensured by an army of street sweepers, employed by a company called Intelligence, as embroidered on their uniforms. They assiduously sweep, seven days a week, whether there’s anything to sweep or not. Even our dirt road. Meanwhile not far from our gate, is a dump of rotting waste at the side of the road, topped up regularly by little three-wheeler refuse trucks registered with the city.

Suspense

Kabila announces that he will not meet the Secretary General of the UN as he will be making a very important announcement and doesn’t want it to appear that he was being influenced by outside interests. The time and day for this announcement is publicized, and on the day concerned the streets are emptied as there’s fear that he will announce he is standing for election . . .again.  Work stops in the office as we listen to crackly broadcasts. What did he say? I summarise: “The election will take place as planned in December and we won’t allow any outsiders to interfere with it. I love the Congo more than anyone else.”