23.6.20

Nazali kozónga

The Kinshasa stories are already beginning and we haven't even arrived yet. Maybe my penchant for being there is about the abundance of source material. In the wake of world events, and US events, I've begun to see such connections.

The Black Lives Matter movement translates slightly different into Africa, but it's there. Undoubtedly. The latest rumors in Kin revolve around doctors who may or may not be diagnosing coronavirus correctly. Some say they get a cut for every patient identified, as higher numbers leads to more international aide. In one account, the amount of dollars being paid directly to the doctor per covid death was extraordinary- much too extraordinary to even be considered as possible...and yet, the person telling me wasn't really sure he could count on the doctors. It's easier to believe that your own doctors would kill you for cash- and that Westerners would offer that kind of cash for dead Congolese.

The entire premise points to everything that is wrong with the Africa-Europe/America relationship. Reparations are needed for black lives all over the globe. Trust is eroded, has been eroded, and the West hasn't really done anything to gain it back- better to take advantage of the ability for stories to run wild, paving the way for an even wilder reality.

But then, something like this story comes out and it's easy to see how the unbelievable takes root and grows into the mostly, probably, maybe. A friend shared this image, which sums it all up. While the rest of the world is welcoming emergency shipments of supplies- and in Africa, countries like Nigeria, Ethiopia and Rwanda are benefitting from billionaire Jack Ma's donations- RDC is playing host to European politicians (whose own countries haven't fared all that well in the face of corona, it bears pointing out.) Twenty-nine thousand Cuban doctors dispatched to fifty-nine countries...so how does RDC end up with.... this?

                                           Top: European delegates arriving in Kinshasa 
                                          Bottom: Cuban doctors arriving in Italy Matteo Bazzi/EPA

It's hard to dispute that perhaps there is some mineral conspiracy here- people don't need to actually arrive in person, in the middle of a pandemic, to discuss a humanitarian donation, do they? I could not find evidence of Jack Ma arriving in Ethiopia. In fact, Kagame tweeted his thanks  along with Ethiopian Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed, who received the goods for dispersement.
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While doesn't seem like the time to be writing something personal, I guess this is the place. It's true, tozali kozónga, we're headed back to Kin. As soon as airports open, that is. I am dreaming of deep jungle green and rich earth rain. I am trying to remember that returning will be different, because of time passed, because of the new world we are living in. But also because I am not the same person. A lot of growth has occurred in these past five years. Eyes wide open this time around.

 This post isn't really a what-we'll-miss-about-Lagos, it's more like a what-we'll-need-to-readjust-to.

  • Untethered- This post about needing to be connected on the streets of VI to order Uber or Bolt is sure to have a different feel in Kin. There are so many different layers of being that it is seems completely possible to find a community fit without the need for constant attachment to internet or a mobile phone. I could be wrong about that, but I am hoping for off-grid options.
  • Banking- This post talks about the ridiculousness of all things money in Nigeria- from stacks of naira as high as a coffee cup to the instant suspicion associated with trying to conduct any financial transactions. Prices won't be cheaper, but ATMs spit out hundred dollar bills in Kinshasa. Back to needing crisp new bills for spending, greenbacks preferred. This article from 2014 attempts to explain why dollars still rule. As far as I could tell during my October visit, Congo is still a long way from weaning off the dollar. 
  • Our apartment- It has not been a source of cozy- and on the contrary, I have dreaded it's pristine white walls and floor to ceiling windows (that peer directly out into the neighbors floor to ceiling windows) but it is bright and new. I was remembering how I had to adjust to the Kinshasa dim. My latest trip through Kin's Ndjili Airport was sparkling with the shine of the newly constructed. But I am not kidding myself about school housing. We are likely to find it in much the same shape as we left it. Including a porch, however, which I am looking forward to with deep longing. 
  • Isolation- VI has been a terribly isolating place to live. I am hoping the same will not be true of Kin. And even if it turns out to be so, those birds in the jungle...especially the night ones...are good company. The sounds of Kin are different too. The streets sing, full of vibrant energy. VI streets are simply clogged with traffic. Which is not to say that Kinshasa streets are miraculously clear...not at all, most likely worse. But they are interesting. And rhythmic.
  • Organic delivery- I am completely not attached to this service, but it has been a luxurious find since lockdown. Lagos has had a thriving delivery service well before lockdown, and VI caters to it's elite class in remarkable ways. Finding several quality organic vendors- who deliver- has been a small wonder. 
I am sure more things will reveal themselves. At the pace of life these days, I am just hoping that airports will open and we'll find ourselves in a beautiful place once again. I am also hoping I will find a few of my friend-family connections still there. There's going to be a lot of grief to manage in the next years and being in a place where I feel completely invested and connected is going to be a help.
A return, yes, but also a new chapter.

3.6.20

in the way

reading news for months of only corona headlines 
just when I wonder…how does it end?
suddenly, it’s gone  
states just decided to open up, as though it never existed
and thousands of lives weren’t really extinguished 
only to have one life grab headlines 
spark anger

reading news for weeks of nothing but tensions rising and fear mounting
fear of living, fear of simply existing
fear that brings a grandmother out into the front yard
in her housecoat and walking cane
to cover up her grandchild who is panicking
police training their guns on him as he lays across the lawn
knowing there is nothing he can do to stop the bullets 
from finding his body 
laying still on the grass, crying for help, raising his arms
no action or non-action will be enough to 
save him 
from his skin

and my own news sends me to my heartland
where already rumors fly
of doctors willing to kill to gain ten- grand
for every body lost to corona
no one knows what to believe when streets talk
and life is worth a mere 10k

I see the connection
between the panic that assumes 
a doctor could murder so easily, so quickly,
so callously
because the white man called
with money in his mouth
and the killing of blacks
across the ocean 
just for being
in the way 
of privilege.