Thursday, May 21, 2009

Flashback: "High-risk situations"

At 6am the stately town hall on Victoria Avenue was already completely surrounded. I couldn’t quite make out if there was in fact a line or in what kind of formation the people stood, but no matter. The point is, people were out in droves ready to vote.

Many arrived at work that morning proudly showing off inked index fingers.

My usual hotel breakfast was frequented by a number of non-regulars: folks in khaki journalist vests emblazoned with “African Union Observer” or “EISA – Promoting Credible Elections and Democratic Governance in Africa” or “EU – Observer Mission.”

May 19, 2009. Election Day in Malawi. The day when Malawians exercised their votes for both President and MPs (members of Parliament).

I arrived in Malawi a mere 3 weeks before the big day, at the height of campaign fever. A crash course in Malawian politics, courtesy of a local colleague, and I quickly learned to identify the difference between blue and yellow.

Blue

At left, a rally for the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP). It’s hard to see but if you look carefully enough, you might spot the trademark blue fabric. The DPP’s candidate: Bingu.

Ladies and supporters of the DPP wear sarongs or swaddle babies on their backs in that blue fabric, a shade something like cerulean, printed with orange circles, ears of corn, and Bingu’s face. The incumbent President – Dr. Bingu wa Mutharika – has been heralded as a leader whose economic policies have helped Malawi to greater prosperity and turned it into one of the fastest growing economies in Africa. In the 2004 election he rode to victory with the UDF and shared the spotlight with the Chairman of the UDF (and former President) Bakili Muluzi (see below). But in 2005, after a dispute with Muluzi concerning Bingu’s stance against corruption, Bingu split off and created his own party, the DPP.

His running mate, Joyce Banda, is reportedly a formidable politician, having already served as an MP as well as foreign minister in Bingu’s administration. Many believe she will become Malawi’s first female President in 2014.

Yellow






A short video clip of a passing rally for the United Democratic Front (UDF). The UDF’s candidate: Muluzi.

Muluzi already served 2 consecutive terms as President of Malawi, having won in 1994 during the country’s first multi-party elections. Though Muluzi started his political career as a popular advocate for democracy, his reputation over the years has become tarnished by scandals and reports of corruption.

Although the constitution limits a president to two consecutive terms, UDF supporters tried to exploit the vagaries in the constitution’s language in order to allow him to run and possibly serve another term. In the end, the Malawi Electoral Commission barred Muluzi from running, and the UDF instead chose to back the Malawi Congress Party (MCP) and their candidate, John Tembo.

Many MCP and UDF supporters feared that a ballot that included only the MCP and Tembo’s name would fail to garner all the UDF votes… With a literacy rate of 63%, many voters make their choice based on color. Without the UDF’s trademark yellow on the ballot, the MCP might miss out on a number of votes from UDF supporters who wouldn’t know where to cast their vote.

Election Tuesday was declared a public holiday. That day the main thoroughfares in Blantyre were remarkably unchoked by traffic and the usual thick streams of people seemed to have been diverted elsewhere.

With such an overriding sense of calm, you could scarcely believe that anything bad could possibly happen. And given that Malawi has had peaceful elections for years, the likelihood of a meltdown a la Kenya or Zimbabwe seemed infinitesmally small.

My company has developed fairly strict protocols when it comes to “high risk situations,” having sent consultants into dicey climates from Pakistan to Angola. And though Malawi does not normally fall under the category of “high risk,” apparently during election season, it does.

So in spite of the almost laughably safe conditions, my company has stepped up security measures in preparation for the worst possible scenario. Those measures include provisional plane tickets, a backup 4x4 in case we need to evacuate overland via Zimbabwe, dispatch of armed guards at the homes of long-term staff here, distribution of detailed photos and maps showing evacuation paths for all staff in Blantyre, contact information for next-of-kin, notification of embassies, etc, etc. I am required to check-in with the CEO twice a day and failing that, someone will search me out, having assumed that something terrible has befallen me. We have various stages of alert and evacuation which include stage I (all meet at a designated safe point in Blantyre), stage II (all “non-essential” staff evacuated), and stage III (everyone evacuated).

It reminded me of another “high risk” situation that I managed to escape…

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Gambia, Aug-Sep 2008

There were many highlights from my stay in The Gambia (“The” was introduced to differentiate it from Zambia, a country in Southern Africa which actually borders Malawi), including but not limited to the following:

- Befriending so many of the client’s Gambian employees and Pakistani contractors.
Though the Abuko Earth Station where we worked lacked most modern amenities (to phrase it mildly), we had a great time, picking mangoes from the yard, stepping over feral dogs and goats on the way, trying not to electrocute ourselves on a strange metal box in our office festooned with yards and yards of cobwebs, and generally trying to jumpstart the Internet’s heart. It was like the diseased heart of an old man who subsisted on a diet of red meat, cigarettes, and hard liquor.

- Lebanese cuisine.
The Gambia, like several other countries in West Africa, is home to a huge Lebanese diaspora, and they brought with them their absolutely divine food. Unfortunately, I was there during Ramadan, and with a population that’s 90% Muslim, nearly everyone participates in this religious observance whether you want to or not… Restaurants close during the day, many bars shutdown altogether, and the usual club-like atmosphere of Senegambia dies down to a rather dull roar.

- Trying to blend in.
I learned a few phrases in Wollof, a language that is only spoken but not written and was once even mistaken for a Gambian. Apparently the last name “Choi” is not an uncommon Gambian surname, so I arrived to a meeting once to find a number of people astounded to see my face. They saw my name on the list of attendees and did not expect a “Chinese-looking” person to show up. I have been mistaken for many things in my life, but being mistaken for Gambian was definitely original.

- The mouth of history.
Near the mouth of the Gambia river, where it empties to into the Atlantic, I visited James Island the launching point for thousands of ships bound for the Americas carrying millions of slaves from the 1500s through the early 1800s. Conditions were appalling… On average 1/10 of all slaves aboard the ships perished along the middle passage (the Africa to Americas route) and only 1/3 were actually able to work once they arrived. After spending many long weeks in cramped, chained conditions, some were literally crippled upon arrival, among other countless horrors.

I will remember The Gambia for all these reasons but also for what happened after I left…

Shortly before I was due to return to the Gambia for the second phase of my project, I received word that my three colleagues (who were working there on a long-term contract with the client) had been abruptly arrested and thrown in jail. They were subsequently stripped of important documents (passports, etc) and not allowed to contact counsel or families etc. Later they were released but detained under “house arrest.” Once my company caught wind of this, of course all work was indefinitely terminated and they started contacting embassies, etc, to extract them from the country. It was a messy, political situation involving money (and likely, corruption) and though my colleagues were not to blame for any of it, they were unfortunately caught in the cross-hairs. After 46 days of being detained in the country, I finally met up with them again, and they proceeded to celebrate their new-found freedom by getting thoroughly soused at the company Christmas party.

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It’s been over a week since election day... Last week, as the election results trickled in, there were rumblings about rigging by the DPP (who at that stage commanded a sizeable lead over the MCP) and that Tembo would not concede defeat… The army began rolling around the city in big tanks and police check points sprang up all over, presumably as a show of force to deter would-be rabble-rousers and disgruntled MCP-ers or UDF-ers from causing trouble.

On Thursday, Bingu was declared the winner and jubilation erupted all over town. People started singing and dancing, cars honked unendingly, and ecstatic people spilled out of pickup trucks, packed to the brim with merry-makers.

I arrived to find my hotel transformed into a hotbed of activity and the lobby had been adorned with a long red carpet and a metal detector at the main entrance. On my floor, I found hotel employees wearing gleaming white gloves standing at nearly every other door.

I asked one, “What’s going on?”

He responded, “Ma’am, there are many dignitaries and heads of states coming here to celebrate the re-inauguration. Like from Tanzania, Rwanda, Mozambique…”

Me: “Sorry, I thought you said Rwanda. Did you say Rwanda?”

Him: “Yes.”

I later found out that Paul Kagame did not in fact stay in my hotel, but I nearly died at the irony. I lived in Rwanda for a year and never came that close to the President. I went to Malawi and “ran into him” at the Mount Soche Hotel.

The next morning, I also found out that Robert Mugabe was rumoured to be staying at my hotel. What a breakfast conversation that could have been! “Bob – how do you manage to keep your inflation rate so high? What is your secret? They make a great omelette here, don’t they?”

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