Nataša's Sierra Leone Adventure - Part 7 - A Bus to Bo

I woke up in the small hours. There were some dogs barking. It was sticky and humid, and I was sweaty. There was no water but the bottled one for drinking. The fan was off since midnight together with the generator. I checked the time on my cell phone. It was three o'clock in the morning, and I couldn't go back to sleep. I sat up, took my torch and lighted the lantern. I decided to leave in the early morning. I'll go to Bo or Kenema. I started packing with my flashlight on. Just threw my stuff into the bag and closed it. I arranged the bottles, and the leftovers of food. That was for Mohamed, my young friend, and a book by Dan Brown, Deception Point, someone left at the Gatwick airport together with a note to know it was read and left on purpose. It was a fake copy, probably came from somewhere in Asia, and now I took it to Africa. It will definitely fulfill its mission.

I had to lay down and wait some more, it was too early. I got up and I stood at the window, and tried to imagine the ocean, I could see far away in the daylight, from the hill, where my hotel stood. At the brake of the day I went down. I had to wake up the receptionist, and paid for the room. He called Mohamed to accompany me to the bus station. He was sleepy, but didn't seem to mind. He was happy for the bottles and cupcakes, but most of all for the book. The receptionist immediately put himself on the waiting list for reading it as well. I thought we were going to take a taxi, but we just walked through the still quiet city, he dragged my bag on wheels behind him. I gave Mohamed a generous tip before I got on the bus, and he asked me if I was coming back to the hotel when I returned to Freetown. I said yes, but I think I already decided there I was going somewhere else. I wanted to leave stories behind.

When I came, there was a bus almost full heading to Kenema. They put my bag in the boot and I climbed into the bus walking over bags, bundles, and people to my seat at the back. When the seats were full, they put wooden boards across the aisle in between seats to squeeze in two more passengers in a row. I was lucky, my seat was at the window, and the window could be opened, which meant, I could at least get some air, and buy through the window whatever I wanted, even if I wasn't able to always climb out of the bus. This was a government bus, which was supposed to be better than privately owned poda podas. There was some difference, but honestly, not that much.

We started the journey, and soon made a longer stop in the suburbs of Freetown. The driver had to go fetch something. By now the traffic was already thick, the roads got congested. It started raining heavily. I bought some bread through my window from a vendor, who sold loaves out of a plastic bag, another bag covering her head, to keep her from getting completely wet. The bread was fresh and crunchy. I bought a boiled corncob, and some mints for afterwards, my toothbrush was packed. I had my breakfast, while the blind evangelical preacher climbed on the bus and gave a long fervent sermon. People participated, hummed, nodded, and confirmed to his loud ecstatic questions and statements. It was in Krio so I wasn't converted. In the end he sold little bible booklets some people bought.

The road was fine to Mile 91, and then it got really bumpy, my seat was hard, and we were squeezed in. People's cell phones kept ringing in different tones, every now and then someone talked loudly with the invisible speaker on the other side of the phone. My neighbour did a lot of business on the phone, he spoke English, and I understood. He pretended he was still in Freetown. I wished someone called me as well.

We had a long stop at Moyamba Junction. It was obviously a trading centre, a market. People came with their agriculture products, and sold sweet potatoes, corn, and other vegetables, rice, and fruit. There were a lot of children around the park drive selling, carrying their items on tin plates placed on the head. Bananas, peanuts, pineapples, bags of rice, soft drinks. I was thinking why weren't these children in school. They should be there at this time of the day. Their T-shirts, dresses, shorts were mostly worn out, sometimes torn. They fought for customers, it was impossible to be fair, and please all. When they didn't sell, they hung around, or followed you just out of curiosity. Annoying and sweet as children can be. I sat down and got sorrounded by them, and we talked, they looked at my bracelets, wanted to have them. There were also some shops around, and makeshift restaurants, that's where most passengers went to have lunch. I needed to use the toilet. I was sent by some local women somewhere behind the houses where there was just a small makeshift bamboo fence barely covered with a couple of rags. It was more or less exposed, and smelled of urine far around. A couple of yards away some women were making lunch, crouching around the pots on the ground. I gave up, if it is good enough for them it must be for me as well, and crouched carefully, holding my bag up.

The road from the stop was really bad, full of holes. The conductor started to collect the money when we were approaching Bo. Some people were going to Bo, but most to Kenema. The bus driver for some reason wanted the conductor to collect the fare only to Bo, and then collect from Bo to Kenema separately from those passengers who travelled further. This aroused a lot of annoyance, clicking with tounges, and waving with the heads, and finally some arguing and shouting. But the driver's voice was the loudest. His temper was bad. His face got red. He stopped the bus in the middle of nowhere to make his point. He was determined not to go on until this was settled his way. He was stubborn enough and won in the end against a whole bus of people. Someone at the back collected the money, and then we passed it from hand to hand toward the conductor. He counted it and claimed some money was missing. After some more arguing, and another counting he seemed to have the right sum. I wanted to go to Kenema, but gave up in Bo, just wanted to get off that bus in the end. I didn't mind the loud talking, it was actually quite interesting, I just wasn't in the best mood with too little sleep.

I asked for directions to Milton Hotel. The rooms had a mosquito net and a TV, it seemed a luxury, I could watch the FIFA football match, it was coming to semifinals, if there was no power cut of course, they said at the reception. It was even better when they managed to fix the broken toilet in a couple of hours, the plumber walking in, and then out to find a new spare part, back in with the wrong part, and out again, and after a while finally with his face beaming he came with the right thing, and was then able to fix it in no time, leaving a mess in the bathroom. I patiently sat on the edge of my bed with my face in my hands, trying to read, not wanting to leave my luggage unattended in such a busily frequented room.

I then went for a walk around Bo, checked out the Lebanese mineral trader shops, but mostly from outside, found an internet cafe, and had a nice groundnut soup in the nearby restaurant. There were several venues for watching the game, some big halls. In some shops they had TVs turned on. There were clusters of man of all ages standing far around to catch at least a glimpse of the game. When something exciting was happening in the game there was a huge roar, and cheering.

I decided to go on the next day. Bo was still too big for me. I walked around the park drives and asked drivers where they were going, if there were any guesthouses in the towns where they were travelling. I looked at the small map I had, and liked the name Zimmi. Someone at the bus station told me there were no guesthouses at Pujehun, but there was one at Zimmi. Okay, then I was heading there.

In the evening I came out to have a drink in front of the hotel. At the next table there was a group of people, they seemed to be around my age, two women and several men. They were obviously friends, two were definitely a couple. They were having a good time, there was a lot of laughing and chattering, and they were getting drunk. One of them kept paying for the rounds of beer, and other drinks. I was drinking a Coke, sipping out of it a bit too often, being uncomfortable all by myself. It was one of those days, when I pulled back, and just observed. People then often left me alone.

There was a night club just next door. The music was lively and loud, there was a loudspeaker in the hotel as well. A lot of young people came to dance and have fun there, it was Friday night. Young women and girls in high heel shoes in which they could barely walk. And short skirts. Heavy makeup. They were definitely dressed up, and accompanied by young and sometimes not so young men. I suddenly felt lonely. I retreated to my room. It was raining heavily that night, and it made me feel better.

Paradise Found

Now we know what paradise looks like.

So we'd read a bit about Sierra Leone. But nothing had prepared us for the beaches. The kind of press Sierra Leone has had the last 10 years, you think people are maybe being generous when they describe the coastline has "spectacular", or "pristine" – a gesture towards finding something good in a dirt-poor country.



In fact, they are not really doing it justice. This place is jaw-droppingly, stomach-turningly, knee-weakeningly beautiful. No need for qualifiers. Not "when you remember there was an eleven-year war there a few years back"; not "considering it's west Africa"; not even "compared with the Caribbean". It's just gorgeous.



Most countries realise that beaches are their best asset, and spend fortunes developing them. Or at least make them accessible. Not Salone. The beauty of the beaches is matched only by the horrors of the roads that connect them, and somehow that makes the whole thing so much more fun. You arrive really feeling like you've earned your right to relax.

York Beach. That was our introduction to the peninsula coastline. You don't hear much about it – it's not one of the headline beaches like No2, or Lakka, or Bureh Town. That's why finding it was part of the fun. We went with Alex, half-German, half-Spanish, and 100 per cent in love with this place. He's working on a project to try and get hotels to buy their fresh fruit and vegetables directly from producers, in most cases women’s groups a little way out of Freetown. He asked us if we wanted to see a little bit of paradise. Naturally we agreed.



We had heard about the famous coloured sand that make every beach a different shade of some divine palette, ranging from the platinum of No2 to the jet of Black Johnson. York is grey, like a fine sprinkling of pencil lead. It doesn't sound that good but it is. Every beach cliché was there: the water was the temperature of a warm bath. Palms and lianas watched over us from the shore; islands crouched in the bay, awaiting low tide for us to walk out to them; off to one side the mountains of the peninsula shouldered into the distance. A freshwater river emptied into the cove, where villagers were washing clothes; the odd fishing boat skipped gently past.


As the sun set, and with the tide way out, at least three games of football were going on alongside each other – one for boys, one for girls, one for littl'uns. We were totally ignored – people couldn't have been less interested in us being there. Friends and football were far more important. And being invisible in paradise was the best thing in the world.

Nataša's Sierra Leone Adventure - Part 6 - An Evening Out

I was meeting Ibrahim in the evening. I wanted to return the cell phone he lent me, when mine didn't work. He offered it, and I was reluctant to take it. He said “Don't worry, I am not longing for anything. Women are offering themselves to me. I don't have problems with that”.
He was late. I was sitting downstairs in the TV room in the company of the receptionist and another two men, we chatted, when he came. He was looking good, and he knew it. I said goodbye to the other guys and we left. His car was waiting outside in the darkness of the night, a huge black 4WD with the back sliding doors.
“Wow, it's like a moving house,” I tried to joke impressed nevertheless. He seemed to be really well off, only rich people have cars like that in Slovenia. The door opened, and another man came out. He was built the same way as Ibrahim, they both looked like they worked out daily. He greeted me, his name was Sammy, he was Ibrahim's brother. Sammy was very quiet. He went to sit at the back, and I was sitted in front next to Ibrahim, who was driving.

I only realised I was on a date, when Ibrahim really wanted me to feel comfortable. He turned on the radio, tuned to a station with a lively pop Sierra Leone music and opened the windows. We went to the gas station first. It was late, but there were plenty of cars, queueing. We parked at the side and Ibrahim sent the quiet Sammy to get two gallons of gas in a canister. Meanwhile he came to flirt with me through my open car window leaning at it from the outside, surprising me while I was thoughtfully staring through it and catching the breeze of the night, my arm hanging out. I suggested to go dancing to Paddy's, a place every newcomer should visit, but felt immediately it was not something he wanted to do, I could only speculate why. He commented my suggestion to Sammy in Krio. We cruised around, and tried to find an open bar in the dying out dark city, where most places were already closed.

We stopped at one of the places with an outdoor patio. There was just another couple sitting at the next table. Sammy had a German Heineken, I had a Sierra Leonean Star, and Ibrahim wanted a Redbull kind of drink they didn't have. He then asked for one drink after another for which the waitress kept coming back they didn't have, until he ended up with a local soft drink, the color of a cherry and a taste of a chewing gum. I tried to engage Sammy into conversation, to teach me a few Krio phrases. They both started with Ow di bodi? and Nor bad. I repeated the phrases several times, trying to get them right, and we laughed. I tried to make some jokes with Ow do bodi, ow di mind. Sammy didn't feel the need to talk more, he was happy to just sit and drink his beer.
“He is like that,” Ibrahim said.

When we finished our drinks, we went to another place, it was even harder to find one open, it was quite late now. There were a couple of men sitting outside, drinking. Sammy got us some plastic chairs, and we sat next to the wall, Ibrahim with his chair turned towards me.
“So, where are we going next?” I tried to joke again.
“Don't worry, I'm not going to kidnap you,” said Ibrahim, “well, God knows, I would do more than that”, he continued, looking at my knees, and then at my polished toenails.
I uncrossed my legs, stopped drinking my Star and asked for a Fanta. Sammy went to get one for me.
I asked Ibrahim “So, where are all the women?”
“If you want the women, I can show them to you.”
“Where?” I asked.
“At the beach. Just tell me what you like. I can get you whatever you like. You can choose.”
“What are you saying?”
“I'm saying I'm leaving it up to you. I want you to decide. I want you to relax, to enjoy yourself.” He said it all very playfully.
I was getting worn out. I stopped laughing. So this is how this handsome man sees me.
“Why are you giving me this tilty look?” he asked.
“I don't know,” I said and bit my tongue. It was not a good moment to start with social or feminist issues. Maybe he was just playing with me, checking me out.

We finished our drinks and got back to the car. Ibrahim opened the window and asked Sammy to hand him over some money for a beggar, who didn't look quite himself.
“So sad,” he said, “we used to go to high school together, and look at him now. So, where do you want to go?” he asked, and looked at me when he started the car.
“Are you making a pass at me?” I asked, and looked him back in the eyes.
“Yes, is that a crime?” he answered, but it did not sound like a hot voice this time.
I was silent for a while.
“I'll take it as a compliment, Ibrahim,” I said. “I think I am ready to go back to the hotel now.” With my right hand I squeezed the door handle. I was sorry things were turning this way. I wanted to believe Ibrahim was just improvising after a busy working day. I wished we could just talk, like we did before.

They took me back, we were not far. Ibrahim parked the car and got out with me.
“Is everything all right?” he asked me. We were leaning over a fence in front of the hotel.
“Yes, everything is fine,” I said and stared somewhere into the distance of the night.
“I'll call you tomorrow, we'll just talk,” he said.
“I am not sure, if I will still be around,” I answered.
“Can't I at least hear some of that laughter once again?” he asked.
“Let's leave it for tomorrow,” I answered.
I waved goodbye to Sammy, and smiled to Ibrahim before I left.

There were some men having a drink in front of the hotel in the dark of the night.
One of them asked me “Where has all your zest gone?”
“I am just tired,” I answered. Another voice came from the dark, I recognized one of the men I talked with earlier.
“You said you didn't have any friends in Freetown,” he said accusingly. I went upstairs to my room. An SMS came from Ibrahim wishing me a good night and not to worry too much. I turned off my cell phone. That was enough men for one day.

The most beautiful place in the world

It all started in a bar in Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso’s dusty capital.

It was dark, the music was raging, but we could just make out the words: “It’s the most beautiful place in the world.”

That’s the kind of cliff-hanger that gets your ears craning.

A mobile telephone engineer, whose entire life consisted of uprooting himself every six months or so to put up poles and masts in a different part of Africa, was in no doubt. The most beautiful place in the world was Sierra Leone.

We were as surprised as the next person to hear this startling verdict. Sierra Leone, known for its diamonds and its long, brutal civil war, had not been top of our “to-visit” wish-list before. But then again, it hadn’t figured in his mind before he went either.

Everything changed once he got there. And the fantastical image he painted, of pristine, hidden beaches, green mountains, waterfalls and steamy jungle, quickly became the most alluring thing in our minds. We were hooked.

We’ve spent the past year and a half, ever since that late-night meeting, researching from afar what the country might really be like, and trying to work out how to get there. And come next Friday we will have arrived, in a dusty Land Rover, having crossed 5,000-odd miles across Europe and Africa to get to Salone overland. If you want to know more about that trip, you can visit www.landrover.com/gobeyond next week to see the journey in action on video.

We are writing the first-ever travel guide dedicated solely to the country, for Bradt Travel Guides (www.bradtguides.com). It will include reviews of hotels and restaurants, beaches, national parks, details on transport, wildlife, cultural, safari, fishing, river and walking adventure, and background chapters on history, economy and the natural environment.

So let us know your tips for cheap eats, great eats, hidden spots, places to visit upcountry, bird-spotting, transport practicalities and much more. Email us at sierraleone.guide@gmail.com – we’d love to hear from you. In the meantime, we need to work on our Krio, and get a move on!

Thanks, and looking forward to visiting the most beautiful place in the world.

Katrina Manson and James Knight

Nataša's Sierra Leone Adventure - Part 5 - The Little Things

When I come to new places I always walk a lot. I cover on foot many distances for which I would usually find different means of transportation at home. It gives me a sense of the place, of where I am, it also winds me down. And last but not least, it gives me opportunity to see the little details of life: a sad old man sitting for hours in front of his shoe shop, voices of a couple loudly arguing behind the thin corrugated walls of their house, children driving around in a self-made cart and playing ball in the street, clouds gathering for an afternoon storm, a big funeral procession with a band walking down the busy street, and completely congesting the traffic. What else is life besides the few major events we can count on the fingers of one hand, but the many little everyday things we all experience, encounter and are sorrounded by. It makes me aware of how similar we all are, regardless of differences as our skin colour, culture, age, or wealth. Down at the bottom we are merely human beings with our feelings, thoughts, worries, good and bad moments. Such realisation makes travelling worthwhile.

The same thing I did in Freetown, I walked up and down and around the Freetown streets, downtown, and beyond. No wonder some people started recognising me. As I wore quite a few colourful bracelets from Burkina Faso, which by the way would definitely make a good trading item, people regularly stopped me to at least have a look at them, some started calling me not only white lady, but also white lady with cultures, and also African lady. I really liked that, thought it was a compliment. In other places they also called me potho, oporto, porto, the remnant word of the first Portuguese colonialists, as it originally means the Portuguese One, but is now used for any European I guess.

I saw all the sights, but mainly I was just taking in the buzz of life. And the life in Freetown is buzzing. I often sat down, had a drink or something to eat, and just watched the life go by. It gave me an opportunity to talk to people, who wanted to talk to me, and many did. I was interesting for them, being obviously from abroad, and of course people always interest me. I collected their stories as colorful pebbles to take home. Each of them unique, special, of its own character, shape and size, sometimes polished, some rough and even sharp, some transparent, others deep black or of various colours. Not many stories were happy ones in Sierra Leone, most were actually very far from that, the war experience seeping into clefts and pores of their lives.

People who approached me as a traveller usually asked, where I was from. And what was my name. What was new for me in Sierra Leone is they would follow with the question, which NGO I was working for. What was my mission in Sierra Leone, they would ask. Failing to answer that question, made me feel strange, the institution of travelling has not yet become common. Why would I come to have fun in a country, that has been so impoverished by the war. I actually had a couple of meetings arranged so I started to compromise with an answer, that I came for business and pleasure as well. That seemed to work out fine for me. But it also planted the thought, that maybe I should come back on, as they put it, a mission.

After walking the streets of Freetown for a couple of days, I started taking poda podas to the beaches. I first drove to Lumley, came across an internet cafe at the junction. The fans were working, and the internet connection was pretty fast. I spent a while there. It was refreshing to reply to private and business mails. It somehow put me in context again, this was my first internet cafe since coming to Sierra Loene. I left my computer at home, and only then realised how much I missed it.

I then spent half of the day walking to the beach and slowly strolling from one side to another. It was midday, it was hot, I had to tie a scarf on my head, I could feel my nose was getting burnt. There were no other strollers, just a couple of white joggers, who both greeted me, I guess because I am white too. A father with a young daughter was idling around the beach, finding shade under one of the few trees. He followed me and made his lovely little daughter dance around me and beg me for money. It seemed he was not having many other options to earn money for the day, and took to begging as a small proffesion, or maybe he just tried his luck. Right then I spotted in the sand a lovely hair pin, gave it to to the girl, made her happy, and they went away.

I kept sitting down in the sand and watching the fisherman pull out the nets. It's really hard work and you just sit there and do nothing, a perverse kind of pleasure, while ten or more men slowly but with all their might pull out the net in rhythmical tugs. I had a lot of company of the young fisherman, who left their work for a while to talk with me. Some like to be fisherman, and are proud, others would rather be businessmen, some would prefer to come back to Europe with me. Honestly, quite a lot of those could be my sons.

There was this fisherman, who took our casual encounter more seriously. Let's call him Edward. He left his fishermen companions, to join me sitting in the sand. He was in his swimming shorts, aware of his own body glistening from youth and strength. His hands showed he had to work hard, pulling those net ropes day after day. His nails were bitten off. Edward took his time with me, to get to know me, talk with me, make me like him. There was no reason for him to like me that much, I was neither fresh nor fabulous. I had a feeling he did this kind of act before, and I would guess more often than not got more abruptly rejected. Was this his beach boy trainingship? Well, I had time on me.

A young woman slowly passed by with a washbasin to collect some of the fisherman's catch. On her way back, she was carrying in it a couple of small fish and a crab, they were still alive. A meager lunch I thought. She stood around shyly but curiously, and then came to sit with me and Edward at a safe distance, I could see she knew him. She hardly spoke any English. I treated us all with Cokes. Edward spoke of his various jobs. How he worked at a hospital, where he carefully observed proffesionals give a massage, so, as he stated, was now really good at that. How he was trying himself in some trading business, and wanted to eventually get successful, and wealthy. It was amusing to observe his quite transparent strategy, leaving his current fishing job, to talk with me. I was his however scarce hope to help him move somewhere onward from where he was then and there. He knew getting to Europe could be a bit far-fetched, but he also knew it would not hurt to try. He then started teasing the crab, who moved back in the washbasin defensively thrusting forward and opening its claws. Eventually it got hold of his finger over the base of the nail. Edward's face reflected pain, but he bravely hid it, and laughed. The crab didn't let go, he couldn't open its claw. He started hitting it, and finally tried to break it off. He had to kill it, I looked away, it was a massacre, I emphatised with the poor animal. The crabs owner wasn't too happy with the mutilated animal either, but what could she do.

Edward kept persuading me to go swimming with him. It was hot, but in that situation I was definitely in no swimming mood, and didn't feel like I wanted to take off my clothes in the first place. Eventually Edward gave up on me, and ran into the water by himself, showing off and splashing around, diving into the water. He took his time, and I decided not to wait for him, but slowly walked back down the beach. When I was quite a distance away, I could see someone riding a bycicle on the street calling and waving. Don't you recognise me the man asked. It was Edward. He was quite disappointed I didn't wait for him to come out. By then I told him once more to stay cool, and after a while he understood.

Next day I wanted to go to Lakka, but arriving to Lumley junction, there was no shared taxi around at that time, so I took a poda poda to Goderich instead. I walked through the whole village all the way to the beach, and loved it there, it was really peaceful. I felt so safe and took a swim leaving my things on the shore, and it was fine. Noone seemed to care about me, and it made a nice change.

Nataša's Sierra Leone Adventure - Part 4 - A Business Meeting

Next morning I decided to try have a business meeting. I dressed up, into what I could find of the few things I had in my bag, and pulled out a nice embroidered reddish shirt in wrinkled material. I wanted to meet someone in charge at one of the Sierra Leone Centres, but never managed to get in touch with them in advance. I found the location the day before on Wallace Johnson street downtown. They had an office in an old colonial decrepit but still impressive building with large windows. There was an exchange office on the ground floor. On the gate hung a sign in block letter writing with the centre's name, its missions and contact address with phone numbers and website page.

That day the front gate was open. I went down a narrow alley and mounted up a wooden steep staircase at the back. I came to an empty and quiet hall, noone seemed to be around. I knocked and tried to open a couple of doors but they were locked, then managed to enter the room at the end of the hall. Out of the hustle and bustle of city life I came into an oasis of quiet and calm, and nothingness. The colonial wooden interior together with the peaceful atmosphere made me feel like I stepped back in time. The only sign of life the fan on the ceiling slowly slashing the thick hot air. The atmosphere was powerful.

There was a desk, which was completely empty, the computer was turned off, an old display cabinet on the left, with rather empty and dusty shelves, a couple of old withered books lying forgottenly somewhere inside. No more other books to be seen, no posters or paintings on the walls. The room seemed uninhabited. Only then I noticed someone sitting behind a bureau desk in the far corner. He was deeply immersed in his work, leaning over the desk, drawing some straight lines with a technical pencil and a ruler over a big plan. He didn't mind me at all.

There was another door to the right leading from the office to the adjoining room, and it was half closed. I could see a bench, and someone on it lying down. This pencil scribbling and fan swishing silence had to be finally interrupted to introduce myself. The man behind his desk looked up, and at me, then called a couple of times to the lady sleeping in the next room by her name. Overcome with a feeling of guilt I realised, that we woke her up from a deep sleep. She got up, and literally staggered into the room, not knowing for a moment where or who she was. She was beautiful, with deer-like eyes, with an elaborate braided hairstyle, and a wonderful African printed outfit. She was all dressed up for work, but it didn't seem there was much to do around. I was one of the few visitors here.

She sat me down behind the desk, facing the turned off computer, and herself on the other side. I told her what I was there for, and presented a card. She was the centre's secretary, and explained to me the gentlemen-in-charge I was looking for was away, he was touring in Europe. She was not sure where exactly in Europe, maybe London, and other places. She also did not know when exactly he was due back. He left a while ago, several weeks, so he should be back some time soon. He was gone for more than a month now, so, maybe he would be back by the end of the month. The man in the corner agreed. So he was touring in Europe, and I was touring in Sierra Leone, my tour a bit different I thought. I gave my contact address in Sierra Leone, to call me when he would be back, and she wrote them down. Noone ever did.

By coincidence I actually met the gentlemen I was looking for when I arrived to Freetown a few weeks later, a day before I left back home. While walking around, I passed the centre, and took a picture. The guard came running out, I made him quite angry, taking a photo of the building without asking for permission. Do you want to speak to the boss, he asked? Do you want to see my boss, he repeated. I sure do, I answered. And so I came to meet the centre's Executive Secretary on spot. He was back from his tour and the Berlin conference. He sat in a different office, this one was full of books, papers, and pictures, a creative mess, as it should be. We talked a bit, I found out about their projects, about creative writing workshops they were organising, about book publishing, fund raising for everything, as they started from scratch, when he moved back from London during the war. I could personally meet some writers and get acquainted with projects, but unfortunately had no more time on me. They were definitely very busy, working on interesting projects, and doing good stuff. I met another lady there, who, I understood, was also on the board. They were both in Slovenia before, at a conference there, they spoke of my country in admiring terms, and agreed, how lovely it was. We spoke of our common African and Slovenian writer acquaintances, realised once again how small the world was. We promised to stay in touch. They would send some new short stories by Sierra Leonean writers.

Nataša's Sierra Leone Adventure - Part 3 - My First Freetown Friend

Finally I was dropped off at YMCA, a good thing, as I was exhausted. We had to knock hard, everyone was asleep. An old men shuffled out to unlock the chain on the gate. He then went to wake up the receptionist, who was too sleepy to understand, if he was to give the room to me or to the whole party that accompanied me.

They took me to my room through the dark corridor and up the stairs, and lighted my kerosene lamp. It was basic, nice and clean. It had everything I needed, a bed, a table, a chair, a hanger, a fan. The fan didn't work, as there was no electricity after midnight, only between seven and midnight. There was no AC of course, and not self contained either, but I could do without that. My standards when travelling go to the minimum. As long as I have with me some small belongings, I can make myself at least temporarily at home almost anywhere. I slept peacefully in perfectly rundown hotels, many African villages, in the wilderness and the desert. Because I felt safe. I knew this was a nice room to start my stay here, it was a room of my own, and a room with a view, both very important to me. And the staff seemed very friendly, the place had a guesthouse, not to say a family atmosphere.

I took a shower and fell asleep until someone in the middle of the night, who decided to preach and convert non-believers, woke me up. I realised there was a Zionist church just opposite the hostel, and the incident happened a couple of more times, together with the occasional parties next door, and some howling dogs after midnight, and with a huge generator roar and fume smell under my window, that gave us the needed electricity until midnight. But, oh well, that's life, nothing's ever perfect.

In the morning I was ready to see Freetown in the daylight. I needed to change money, find my way around, decide what I wanted to do. It was my first day of holidays. I had a few cell phone numbers of relatives and friends of my Sierra Leonean friend from the States. I got numbers of some important UN officials among them, and a number of my friend's school mate who worked at the security office at Lungi. I am sure he knew why he should give it, but fortunately I didn't need it. There were also numbers of my American friends, who were staying in Freetown then, and the number of my flight friend. The numbers were now all in my new Celtel sim card directory, I bought the night before on the ferry. This contacts and names made me feel confident.

At the hostel they offered a guide, as I guess they do to all newcomers who come to stay there. A young man, yet another Mohamed, was willing to go around with me, help me with advice, and show me around. I like to be on my own, and meet my friends on the way, but this sounded a good option for the first couple of days, and I thought it might be nice for Mohamed as well, practice some English and learn a bit about Slovenia. Anyway, here I was without a proper map, and with a nice Mohamed. He soon became my first Freetown friend. He was bright, topping with scores in his class, waiting to get his final high school exam results in the next few weeks, and he had a good feeling about them.

Mohamed took me downtown, literally, as we were up on the hill, and showed me some of the Freetown iconography, such as the enormous cotton tree. I'm in love with the trees, and this one was definitely something special. I touched the bark, walked around it, as many times later, and tried to communicate with it in my own small way. You can do that you know, if you are a foreigner. It had so much spirit and presence.

I wanted to change money. I could do it almost anywhere, as there were people in this line of business offering themselves to you all the way down Siaka Stevens street, but Mohamed took me to an electric suppliance store. It was nice to just follow his advice.

He was very patient with me. We walked all over the place. He followed my confused unplanned wandering around the city, now up, and then back down, I was like a restless fly. I wasn't interested in the arts market, I have seen many better ones in Africa, most of the things hadn't been made in Sierra Leone anyway. Why would I want to buy imported things there? And I didn't come shopping the very first day. But it was Mohamed's suggestion to make it part of our sightseeing project. I bought one of the many newspapers being sold in front of the post office. Just chose one at random, none of them really thick anyway, and each with different head titles. It was not like in Slovenia, where you have a couple of newspapers, and they offer more or less the same local and international news, only the view points are different, more rightist or leftist. No, here each newspaper offered something completely different, so later on I started buying at least a couple to suffice my need for reading, and to try figure out, if there were any concepts.

After much walking, Mohamed and myself sat down to have a couple of Cokes at one of the drinking places. We talked, about his school, his family, about Krio, about his wishes and aspirations, which mostly had to do with his education and financial situation providing it. His story was one of the many stories I heard later on, the stories which were actually the gist of my travelling in Sierra Leone. Not only Mohamed, I talked a lot as well, more than I intended to. I always do, when I am with new people, to bridge silences, and to hide my actual shyness. Well, anyway, after half a day of walking and talking, I let Mohamed go home. He looked relieved, I think he wanted to have some lunch, and was getting tired. I bought him a pineapple at the outdoor vendor, and gave him some tip for the guiding help. It was then nice to stay quiet for a while.

By then I was a bit more familiar with the downtown streets. I was meeting my American friends at the Women's Nursery Restaurant for lunch. It was a popular eat and go place, run by the nursery, and the income went for a their cause. It seemed convenient, if you were downtown, and needed a quick inexpensive lunch. The place was busy, which was definitely a good sign. It had small square tables with plastic chairs in a small one room space with no outdoor patio, with a couple of posters hanging on the wall. You came in and sat wherever was available. In Slovenia you don't sit down at a table of four, if one seat is occupied, not even in fast food places, it is considered invading of privacy. You do it only if the place is full, and even then you ask for permission the person who is already sitting. The restaurant had a range of different meat and vegetable local dishes, and everything looked really good. The prices were ranging from 2000 leones a meal and up, depending on how much you wanted to eat, so there was no need to leave the food on the plate. I often came back later, when I didn't want to fuss around with fancy meals. I ordered my food, read my newspaper, and sometimes watched the downpour of rain outside, until it stopped, and I could leave.

I was happy to meet my American friends, we hugged. We always met away from our homes, in Fes, in Alexandria, Accra, and now Freetown in the time span of eight years. We never really kept in touch, but were always happy to see each other, and update ourselves on what we achieved in the meantime in our lives. My friends were calm, settled in, familiar with Freetown, and life here, one of them even spoke Krio. We sat down at two different tables, where we found seats, and talked across as much as we could. I ordered a fufu, it was good, but different than the one I usually ate in Ghana, sourish and fermented, there was maybe more cassava in it. We finished the meal, talked a bit more, and then went to the market to buy some fresh vegetables. They gave me a lot of practical pieces of advice, where to eat, how much things cost, where to catch poda podas. Then they were off, back to their busy lives.

Mohamed was waiting for me at the hostel in the afternoon. When he saw me, he cut and sliced the pineapple to share it with me, it was sweet of him. The pineapple was ripe and juicy, and made a nice dinner, though I thought he was going to keep it for himself. We then sat downstairs, and offered it to anyone who came by.

My Village's Journey from the Train to ICT age - By Andrew Keili

My Village's Journey from the Train to ICT age - By Andrew Keili

My village’s entry into the ICT age is at great cost to me. I would need to do a cost-benefit analysis however to ascertain if the cost outweighs the benefits. I have seen Baiima have so many ups and downs in my living memory. Time was, when this famous train station village near Pendembu in the Kailahun District stood tall. Letters for the neighbouring Mobai Chiefdom headquarter town used to get letters marked “Mobai via Baiima”. The closure of the railway reduced the villages’s status. To rub insult to injury Mobai had the Vianini road to Pendembu and was linked to Baiima by a mere dirt road. Ironically letters to Baiima got addressed as “Baiima via Mobai”. How times change! Baiima, being close to Daru Barracks was a town that bore the brunt if the rebel war and was totally destroyed-yes totally, including my father’s 14 room concrete house of which we were so proud-only sometimes we couldn’t find a place to sleep as each of the many Uncles had claimed their own rooms.

What has all this got to do with ICT? Well, Celtel has decided to have a presence through the length and breadth of the country. There is no commercial reason why it should have a presence in Baiima but by happenstance, someone discovered there was coverage in, of all places the Court Barrie. The David Livingstone of a teacher who discovered this is making good money, I have discovered. He sits in an armchair in the corner of the Barrie and takes money for calls-often at exorbitant charges. He managed to get my phone number one day and called me up. Karmoh, is that you?, he asked. After answering in the affirmative I heard him yell in Mende-We have got him! How are you, how are the wife and Children? After the normal pleasantries, he said an uncle wanted to talk to me. The first Uncle continued with the usual questions about the wife and family and gave me news about the village. ”Uncle Brima is also here”. We went through the same rigmarole until we got to the sixth Uncle, each starting with his usual greetings and asking after each member of the big Keili family, including those overseas. The last Uncle handed the phone to a cousin that had swindled some money I sent for him. He asked for forgiveness. To save on my $20 card, I obliged immediately. “Don’t bother begging further, I forgive you with all my heart”, I said. Teacher “David Livingstone” phoned me a week later. “ Could you phone me tomorrow at 12 and text me the number for a $10 card?” I obliged. On comparing notes with a few of my townsfolk in Freetown, he had got a 500 unit from one and 200 unit from another.

“David Livingstone” has however proved useful. When I had an urgent message for the paramount Chief he made the three mile journey to Mobai to deliver the message and brought back the reply. A few more cards have gone his way from me but I don’t mind. He has been a constant source of news –mainly good. He is sometimes so anxious that the death of a wife of my favourite Uncle turned into my Uncle’s death. I nearly phoned David and others to pass on the news when another phone call came through, cancelling the death. Ah well, everybody makes mistakes! Weighing everything, the benefits actually outweigh the cost- enough to ask my brother David to also contribute-after all I pass on news to him through this source. “David Livingstone” recently asked for the phone numbers of my brothers and sisters in the US. David and others, you are warned!

Nataša's Sierra Leone Adventure – Part 2 – Goodbye Slovenia, Hello Sierra Leone

Telling people I was going to Sierra Leone made me quite a heroine here, you know. It definitely upgraded my status as a traveller and an adventurer. People asked: So this is one of your business trips? No? Watch out for the rebels, they may still be somewhere around. Bring me some diamonds. Did you see that film with Nicolas Cage starring? Isn't there a war going on there? What would you want to do there? Is there malaria, can you get a jab for that? Even a friend, who travels all over the world all the time, and lives in Burkina Faso on and off seemed to be a bit concerned. I was asking myself, so what is this now?

I still wanted to get some information about Sierra Leone before I left. It was too late to order books through Amazon about and from Sierra Leone. I checked out the many books dealing with the Sierra Leone history and war accounts, and nevertheless placed an order for Aminatta Forna's The Devil That Danced on the Water, but it arrived the day after I left. No guide books as far as I could find. I found an old 1996 West Africa Lonely Planet guide on my shelf which was completely useless. I photocopied the Sierra Leone pages from the updated 2002 one, which were by then quite outdated and scarce as well, but I saved them as they had some basic city maps, which seemed useful. So my main source of information were the internet sites, mainly the VSL one, and basically I guess I was ready to discover everything on my own.

I did want to know where I was sleeping the first night in Freetown as my flight arrived in the middle of the night. I did not want to spend too much money on fancy hotels, and I like to travel modestly, so the only place that was not expensive, and I could make a reservation for through e-mail, was YMCA hostel. I wrote to them, and in a couple of days they replied the room would be waiting for me, although they could not help me with the transportation to the hostel. I thought I would be able to handle with that once I arrived, and I was happy. I preferred to take the ferry, but left that open as well, would see once I arrived to Lungi. The hovercraft was broken then, and I am not too fond of helicopters, especially not the old and non-maintained ones.

I said my goodbyes to family and friends, and tried to make the least fuss possible, as usually I intend to come back home anyway. There was also a lot of work to be done until the very day of my departure, which kept me really busy. I was ready to leave, I had everything I needed, a Sierra Leonean visa stamp in my passport, enough money (read banknotes of dollars and euros) in my handbag, my digital camera, the new novel by Zadie Smith On Beauty to read on the flight, and give away later, and a few other necessary belongings.

I got to our lovely small Slovenian airport just beyond the sunny side of the Alps. I got myself on the lovely little Slovenian airplane which flew me to London Gatwick. Everything so small and cosy in Slovenia. You know half of the Slovenians on the flight, and even more of them seem to know you. I was definitely ready to leave. Just a month earlier I came back from Accra, Ghana where I stayed for less than a week, and now I was coming back West Africa, for a bit longer and, just a bit further West.

At the Slovenian customs I had to leave behind my beloved old pocket knife, as I forgot to check it into my baggage. I hoped at least someone was going to use it, I didn't want it to end in the garbage can. You have it, I said to the young Slovenian customs officer, this knife has got a history I added. His facial expression remained official, but his eyes were laughing.

London weather was absolutely rubbish, from a hot sunny day I came into a cold and drizzly city in my summer cloths. I put on everything I had to wear, it was depressing. I was wandering around with much time on me, dragging behind me my bag on wheels. You can't buy knives, and stuff like that at the airports. I took the path that connected the airport with the posh Sofitel. Right at the end of it, at the suburbs of the hotel, and at the beginning of the shiny spacious hotel hall, there was a small non-fancy souvenir shop with a little Indian sari clad lady shop assistant hidden in the corner behind the cashier. She was selling everything from sandwiches, snacks, umbrellas, scarves, British souvenir Queen Elisabeth kitsch to cosmetic stuff. I also found a knife. It was a really sharp silver no name knife in a box together with a pen, sold as a souvenir, for five pounds. I had to smile, this was my small victory. I packed it in my bag this time, to have it checked in. Then bought a plug travel adapter, forgot one at home, and packed it in as well. I felt better.

My, do people have a lot of luggage, was my thought while waiting in the long que for the Freeetown flight check-in. So many biggest suitcases I have seen, and a lot of opening up of them, due to weight regulations. People must be taking home a lot of presents. My bag seemed really small.

Transit areas at big airports, where you wait in between long journeys, are nowhere lands. On the way from home they make me feel empty and spaced out, on the way back just a necessary stop. This is where I always ask myself what the hell am I doing. Why didn't I just stay at home, and did things the easy, predictable way. Went to the seaside, like most people do for holidays in Slovenia. I wandered to the bookshops, and when it got really bad, I bought myself a duty-free perfume, Un Jardin sur le Nile. I knew it would help. A Garden Above the Nile, made in France, we live in a globalised world now. I guess I smelled greenly and fertile then, and as Africa, north-eastern part, but nevertheless. And I got to use my credit card one last time in the next few weeks. I found a soft leather seat in the waiting lounge, sank into it, and spent the remainder of the time reading Zadie's On Beauty and sending around SMS messages to those I knew would make them happy.

Getting on the flight I realized I was sitting next to a nice Sierra Leonean man who lives in Europe, and regularly comes back to Sierra Leone to do some business, and as he told me, he had also been in the sports proffesionally, and quite successful that is. Anyway, we immediately started chatting and laughing, and talked for six hours and a half. He also taught me a bit about the theory and the strategies of his sport, out of the book he was studying. It was all very interesting. The man said, he would help me with the transportation, and he seemed trustworthy.
Once we landed, he said, it's going to be a bit hectic now, but I thought, this is Africa, it's often a bit hectic as far as I can remember. What he meant, and I wasn't aware of, was that he was a bit of a celebrity, because of what he had done as a sportsman for Sierra Leone.
It started the moment we landed, and the plane door opened. All the airport workers wanted to shake his hand, hug him, and shouted his name. Many looked at me, and said, that's him, and told me his name, as if I didn't know. Some asked me, are you with him? I was thinking, my, where did I find this guy? He did not have to que at the customs, an extra member of staff ran to the booth and was more than willing to check his passport. On the other side, he waved to someone to help me through, and I did not have to que either, as an extra member of staff came to check my passport as well. I did not have to open my baggage, as I was with this man. So, coincidentally, I had a grand reception at Lungi, some people shook my hand too … It was good this man thought I was lonely and desolate enough to need his help. It was pitch dark outside and around midnight, our flight was also delayed. I didn't have a clue of any directions. Someone picked us up and we took the ferry. A lovely and romantic way to approach Freetown. And my bag was being carried all the time.

Nataša's Sierra Leone Adventure - Part 1 - Tickets and Visas

My life at home has to be planned all the time, without my planner with the meeting dates, deadline dates, and what-to-do-today notes, I would be dead. When I travel, I hardly plan anything ahead. This attitude starts with the decision to go, which is usually carried out at an impulse. First I feel this urge to leave for a while, what I feel at the time, a frustrating or overworked life. I stop by my travel agent, and ask him, if there are any cheap flights to Africa. He usually doesn't come out with anything specific, so I do some quick brainstorming, and name a few countries. The ones that come to my mind first are usually connected to the books by African writers I had recently read, or which took place in Africa.

Last year when I was booking a flight, I had just finished reading Doreen Baingana's Tropical Fish, Stories out of Entebbe, a 1941 children's travel book by Max Metzeger, which would translate Monica Travels to Madagascar I found at the local second hand bookshop, and a favourite of mine, Mia Couto's The Last Flight of the Flamingo which had just come out in fresh Slovenian translation, so I asked for flights to Uganda, Madagascar and Mozambique. The travel agent offered a cheap charter to Namibia, so I ended up booking a flight for that destination, which didn't turn out cheap at all in the end, but got me immmersed in the loneliness of the sand dune desert, offered an interesting sociological insight into post-apartheid racial relationships, and made me come back home with another load of books by Namibian and South African writers.

This year I made a reservation for Mozambique, I read a great story from a new collection by Rogerio Manjate, and Sierra Leone, I read several short stories by Sierra Leonean writers, and also some poetry by Syl Cheney-Coker. Mozambique would have been easier it seemed, obtaining the visa and the flight was cheaper. But now I really wanted to come back to West Africa, and Sierra Leone seemed an interesting option.

Prospects for Sierra Leone were not too good. The time was short, I had less than a month to get the visa and arrange everything. The flight from Brussels was ridiculously expensive, around 1600 euros, taxes amounted to one third of the price. I would have to fly from Venice, which is another three hour drive to there, and it was cheaper from there than from Brussels itself. There is no Sierra Leone embassy in my country.

I first tried to find a cheaper flight, found Kevin McPhillips Travel on the internet, which offered Astraeus flights to Freetown, e-mailed and called them, and made a reservation for a much more reasonable fare than I would with SN Brussels. I still needed to find a not too expensive flight to London. I made a reservation with the Slovenian airlines, but I was put just on the waiting list for the flight back from London home, that flight was also half of what I was paying from London to Freetown. Someone around here, seeing how desperate I was to go, then offered to give me his free mileage points for my flight, which in the end made me fly business class to London and drink wine from a real glass.

I still had to obtain the visa. Now this took a research, that reminds me on the scientific approach to work I sometimes have to embark. I first tried to find the embassies and consulates in Europe. I hoped I could get the visa at the Vienna consulate, as I could drive there, but calling them found out, that since 1 January 2006 Sierra Leonean visas have been issued only by embassies. He gave me the web site of the Bonn embassy. When I read, what I needed for the visa, I almost gave up: an invitation letter, stating my financial status, a return ticket, my yellow fever jab just expired a week ago, etc. It also meant that I would have to send my passport DHL, and wire the money for the fee. There is no agency in Slovenia, where they would do that for me, or give me any guarantee my documents and money should arrive safely. I called them, and the men said my letter can be e-mailed, my ticket can be just a reservation, but I wasn't sure, as that was not what wrote in the requirements. Then I checked the site of London High Commission, they also require a letter of invitation, and if I sent my passport DHL it would take around three weeks to get it back (too long for me). I would have to ask my London friend to help me out, and you know how busy people are, and don't have time to run around doing big favours for friends. Nevertheless I called High Comission, and they told me, a booked hotel would do, instead of an invitation letter. Finally I called the Brussels embassy as well. They don't have any internet site, but the talk seemed promising. I would still need an invitation letter, but that was about it. The visa would be issued in a day, the shortest time. They could fax the visa application form. But, the fee had to be paid in person at the nearby bank, so I could not DHL my passport directly to them and wire the money. This left me with two options, find someone in Brussels who would do that for me, or fly to Brussels (not a financially good option, and I didn't have the time either). In the meantime I contacted a Sierra Leonean friend in the States, if he could help me with the invitation letter, who contacted his sister who resides in Freetown, and she was kind enough to write this letter and e-mail it to me, I am greatful to both. I started looking for someone I know, who lives in Brussels. There are quite a lot of people from my country working for the European Union, translators, administration workers, politicians, and some I even know, but they are all very busy, the embassy office hours are in the morning, and you also have to run to the bank. Finally someone reminded me of our old class-mate from high school who left his career to accompany his wife, which meant he was not employed there, and might have time to do a such a favour. I got his e-mail, he still remembered me well, and was really willing to do it as well, “no problem, that's what I am here for” attitude. There are still good people on this world!

Things seemed to be getting in place. It was highly possible I was going. And my wish for the gold fish? Let's abolish the institution of visas.

Blood Diamonds Movie: The Industry, Sierra Leone and The Boycott

I must admit that when I first heard of this Blood Diamonds movie, I thought it was a good idea… but I was thinking about the potential positive elements to the movie. I guess I dreamt of a world famous actor like Di Caprio coming to Sierra Leone, falling in love with the country and building a home somewhere around Koidu… or of local actors such as Freetong Players been given a chance to break into the US market!! Other forumites however, did take a more cautious approach to the news, reminding us that even an uplifting story such as Amistad did not yield any positive or lasting benefits for Sierra Leone. Anyway it turns out this Blood Diamond movie was filmed in Mozambique, South Africa and some scenes shots in the UK. Di Caprio even took some time out to visit the SOS Childrens Village in Mozambique.

The Industry’s challenge

We have been tracking this in the Visit Sierra Leone forum since June 2005 when the making of the movie was first announced and things have come a long way since then. There is some talk that this film threatens to rock the diamond industry, shake the way we look BLING! Even the hip hop artists are getting into the act. Kanye West’s rap tune “Diamonds from Sierra Leone” broke the issue to a new generation of “ICE” consumers who had little knowledge about “Conflict Diamonds” as they are also called. This was followed swiftly by news that Kanye West, Jadakiss, Paul Wall and Tony Calderon would be heading to Sierra Leone

. Kanye and Jadakiss did not make it in the end but Raekwon, Paul Wall and Tego Calderon where there to film their bits for the documentary Bling: A Planet Rock (2006). All of this and we have not mentioned that Sierra Leone’s 10 year war was most popular for diamonds and severed limbs and for most, a direct relationship between the two. There were various highlighting the evil that accompanied the sale of blood diamonds. See: Amnesty Magazine ; Blood Diamonds are for Never

The industry has cleaned up its act a lot since those days but as Sierra Leone knows too well… years of negative publicity cannot just be wiped out overnight – even if you’re De Beers. So are they running scared? There is talk that they have “recruited” the services of none other than Nelson Mandela to speak “defend” De Beers. The ol’ man came under some criticism for that but in truth, he is speaking out for the diamond industry and has always been against a boycott of diamonds, something he feels will be detrimental to economies of country who depend on diamonds as a major source of revenue such as South Africa and of course Sierra Leone. I have to say, based on that reasoning the wise ol man is right, again. As far as I know he wasn’t “hired” by De Beers as he is not being paid for his role. The industry, just like Sierra Leone, is vulnerable to the negative effects of this film and are bracing themselves for a backlash – with the film’s PR in high speed it seems the only people to benefit from this movie is Hollywood.

See also

Nelson Mandela to Defend De Beers; Nelson Mandela to speak out for diamond industry

Jewelers sweat a 'Blood Diamond' holiday - CNN

Jewelers nervous about 'Blood Diamond' film - MSBNC

Blood Diamond; Movie Concerns Industry - DiamondRegistry.com

Diamond film 'could hurt Africa'- BBC

And for the countries trying to get back on track?

All of this brings me back to the movie – it is clear that the only real motive here is to cash in from the conflict and the issue of blood diamonds. As other forumites pointed out, maybe Hollywood are only in it for the money. It is not the first time this has been done with conflicts in African countries, Hotel Rwanda, Tears of the Sun, Black Hawk Down etc. However, even if it was a moral crusade, this film has the potential to cause even more harm to the people who have been affected by “Blood Diamonds”. Most are now trying to get there lives back together and working in legit diamond trade – what would happen to them if the industry was to go still?

Anyone who’s spent time on the forum will know that I’m not a big fan of diamonds but Sierra Leone, still trying to get back on track is heavily dependent on Diamonds as a major source of revenue and I don’t even want to think of the consequences of a dormant diamond industry! Besides the loss in revenue another big casualty of the war in Sierra Leone was its image. I believe that if we are to attract credible more foreign investors and tap into the country’s tourism potential then our negative image in the West must be tackled. Investors are driven by confidence and there have been some strides in this direction and I think this movie will set us back a few years. That would be a real shame. I hope there is a bit at the end which talks about life in some of these regions today. Sierra Leone, Liberia and Angola all have peace and are working hard to rejuvenate their economies and they deserve a chance to do so!

Think that’s about all I have to say on this issue for now, save to say that I do not think it is diamonds that should be boycotted, but rather Blood Diamond - the movie.

The simple things in life

Imagine waking up in the morning to the sounds of birds tweeting away in the trees... the wind gently caressing your face and then you open your eyes and see this...



These are the simple things in life, these are the things i miss about Sierra Leone.

Paddys Bar and Entertainment Complex in Freetown

Paddys Bar in Freetown has become some sort of a phenomenon over the past few years. Founded by Paddy Warren an Irishman who sadly passed away in 2005, Paddys has become the main focal point for entertainment in Freetown. You have to experience it at least once. Paddys was notorious for remaining open during the civil war and was popular with UN troops, expatriates, Nigerian soldiers, diamond dealers, night workers and of course local folk just wanting to enjoy a night out. Well, the troops are gone and so too some of the expats and Paddys is still there. Paddys works… and it’s a really simple formula too… wide open space overlooking the sea, a roof, cheap drinks, roast beef, great music… ah the music!See also: So what is it about Paddys?




and another...

Misty Morning on the hills of Regent, Freetown

Got these shots sent to me by my dad... brings back that 'ol Bob Marley tune..

" Misty mornin', don't see no sun;
I know you're out there somewhere having fun.
There is one mystery - yea-ea-eah - I just can't express:
To give your more, to receive your less.
.....
See no sun! Oh.
Time has come, I want you -
I want you to straighten out my tomorrow! Uh."

Err.. ok, that's enough now.

British Airline (BMED) to start flights to Sierra Leone

We received welcome news that British Airways franchise partner (BMED) is to start flying to Sierra Leone. This means there are now 3 airlines serving the Freetown-London route – Bellview Airlines (Heathrow), Astraeus Airline(Gatwick) and as of October – BMED(Heathrow).

Few main things in here - First off, as a Sierra Leonean this is an endorsement of our nation’s gradual recovery. To quote the article:

“The move represents the return by BA liveried aircraft to West Africa for the first time since the early 1990s when the airline withdrew flights to the region.”

That’s good. We need more big name investors pledging faith in our country’s economy.

Secondly, as a consumer… bring those fares DOWN! already. £750 for a trip home for Christmas is just a little steep dude. Imagine you want to take your entire family (wife and three kids) home for Christmas holidays? Ouch! This is excluding helicopter flights, jabs, accommodation and all the other costs that go with it. From a tourism point of view, lower prices can only help improve our chances in a very competitive market.

On a whole, good news for Sierra Leone.

http://www.travelmole.com/stories/110097.php
BMED to start flights from Heathrow to Freetown - Forum Discussion

When in Freetown, I recommend a boat trip!

These are some photos from a boat trip we took in Freetown - a treat from some of my friends! We had a fantastic day out on this mystery island. If you are in Freetown for holiday you must make a point of getting away from the city - and visit one of the islands on the peninsula. Its pure bliss.. away from the hustle and bustle in Freetown. Take some time out to relax and forget about the great challenges of life.

Checking out boat prior to take off...



LA Bob. Jes chilling!

Carlito

Master P.

View from the back of the island

Our very own jacuzzi


Are those bubbles?

Yes.. a few pints later... a burger.. and no one wants to leave :)

Time to go, but no one wants to know. Kamajor (the captain) looks none too happy as it was bout to rain.

I wonder what the story is behind the island because there is definitely structures there to suggest someone used it as a retreat of some sort. The "jacuzzi" is great.. its made amongst the rocks and it fills up when the tide comes in. Feels great!!!

Do you recognise this island? If know more about it please let us know.

Sierra Leone, Africa and DNA - Joining the dots

If you are based in the states most of you have probably heard about the Grey's Anatomy star... Isiah Washington. He was recently in Sierra Leone filming a documentary which will be aired on ABC at some point soon. It turns out Isiah had a DNA test last year which revealed a maternal lineage to the Mendé people of Sierra Leone.

This follows the recent Priscilla's homecoming celebration when Mrs. Thomalind Martin Polite, an African American woman from Charleston, South Carolina, made an extraordinary and historic journey back to Sierra Leone. Thomalind is known to be a direct descendant of a 10 year old girl who was kidnapped from Africa in 1756, placed aboard the slave ship Hare in Sierra Leone bound for Charleston, South Carolina. Oprah Winfrey also had her DNA tested. This genetic test determined that her maternal line originated among the Kpelle ethnic group, in the area that today is Liberia (apparently she earlier thought - or hoped she was Zulu).

Anyway, what does this mean for Sierra Leone and other African countries? It means great opportunties for greater cooperation between Africans their brothers and sisters scattered around the globe. This is one to follow with great interest as we will hear more stories such as those mentioned above in the coming years and will probably play a huge part in Africa's tourism industry in years to come.

MOST IMPORTANT THING TO DO WHILE IN SIERRA LEONE

Between time spent with family, going to the beach and all night booty shaking at Paddy's there is a lot that a returnee can do. Since the summer of 2003 I have been back home 4 times. I spent both the summer of '03 and '04 at home and christmas 04 and Christmas 05. So its easy to see that i'm clearly addicted. There are many people out there who havent been home in a long time and when ever they do think of going home they wonder what they'll do when they get there. In an effort to encourage and promote the return home i am going to share with you some of the things i've done or dreamt of doing while at home.NUMBER 1 AND MOST IMPORTANT IS VOLUNTEER/COMMUNITY SERVICE. As you well know our country is in its reconstruction period. What better way to pass time than to give your time. My favorite form of volunteering is teaching. I have an ongoing relationship with the FAWE SCHOOL at fort street. The first year (2003) I was there I taught class 4 and class 6....mostly English but also a bunch of stuff really....as long as i thought it was relevant. I organized i field trip with my students to the SL Library by Victoria Park. None of my students had even been and we got a tour of the facility. I remember that when i went to Mereweather that we use to go to the library and the British council.In the summer of 2004 when i went back to FAWE I only taught class 6. This time it was more fun as i was more comfortable teaching. I also had the honor of writing and directing the theater performance at the class 6 graduation ceremony. It was a 4 act play called ISSUES that dealt with girl child education, self love and respect for culture and tradition. So much fun and stress rehearsing but in the end it all went well. And as a bonus i got to give out the diplomas and prizes at the graduation. I was soooo proud of my FAWE girls!!! I forgot to mention that i also taught them the hook to Nas's I KNOW I CAN...which they loved and I took the rhythm from a UNICEF CD and I wrote another song with the class....that went a litttle something like this....hello, bonjour, buenos dias, good day, guttentag, koniciwa, ciao, shalom, Kushe, ow di bodi...etc. Anyways what i'm trying to say is that VOLUNTEERING IS SOOOO COOL!!! Also, for those of us who easily tire of complaining about the state of things in Salone...volunteering means you can do something. And outside of FAWE there are a million other things you can do

Sierra Leone's Land and Housing issues...

This week the on-going illegal housing and disputable land owenrship problems in Sierra Leone took a fatal twist when one of the officials sent to demolish illegal structures was murdered. We've been following this in the forum since March when some structures where demolished in Wellington, Calaba Town. Last week The Minister said Freetown is the worst in terms of lawlessness according to the article by AllAfrica. Unfortunately, this demolishing exercise has now seen the death of an official. Even though this is trully bad, there have been other incidents where people have been beaten senseless when the tried to approach illegal settlers on land. We hope the govt investigation will be swift and those who are responsible be brought to justice, as this is an issue which if not tackled now will have implications for attracting investors to Sierra Leone too...not to mention the negative press should anything like this happen again.
An interview with the Minister.

Sorious Samura - European press held back by political correctness...

Great to see our most famous Sierra Leonean journalist back in the press. Met him yesterday at the SL4U do and he seems a top bloke. After breaking into the scene with "Cry Freetown" this dude has been on a roll, delivering programmes that takes the viewers into the life of the subject collecting multiple awards in the progress.

He does make some valid points in this article in this morning's observer. He's managed to deliver it whilst not biting the hand hand that feeds him.

SL4U Event in London

The Sierra Leone diaspora is mobilising... that's the feeling i have anyway. SL4U are one of those groups who through the medium of radio are making an impact. Last night they held a PR event in their studio which brought together other members of the diaspora, marketing people and some peeps from the TV. These events all in their own little way gets the meesage across that Sierra Leone (and Sierra Leoneans) is ready for business.

I met one of our footballers who is plying his trade in the UK and we were having a discussion about players who are elligible to play for Sierra Leone. I had always thought that these players had not been approached by SLFA and whilst this is sometimes the case... he made it clear to me that also in some cases the parents don't want these players to go back and play for a country like Sierra Leone. I hadn't thought of that.

mattprentice.com: It's a Jungle Out There

Feedback from Matt who visited Outamba Kilimi National Park recently...
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mattprentice.com: It's a Jungle Out There

No, really. It is. And it takes about 10 hours to get there. It’s called Otamba-Kilimi National Park and it’s in the far north of Sierra Leone.

afrol News - Africa enjoys record economic growth

More good news from Africa....

afrol News - Africa enjoys record economic growth: "Among non-oil exporters, the picture is more differentiated. Strongest growth is expected in Malawi (8.3 percent), mostly connected to the poor country's bumper harvest this year, Mozambique (7.9 percent), Sierra Leone (7.4 percent), Congo Kinshasa and Cape Verde (both 7.0 percent). All these five countries will experience a much higher GDP growth that population growth, producing per capita growth between 3.9 (Congo) and 6.2 percent (Malawi)."

ReliefWeb Document Preview: Sierra Leone: A country for all to share

ReliefWeb Document Preview Sierra Leone: A country for all to share

Whether in the main cities or along the beautiful coastline which fringes the country, Sierra Leone's population is working hard to build a better future

The Hague thrives as international justice booms

I like so many other Sierra Leoneans i spoke to would rather see Charles Taylor's trial taken to the hague. The wierd thing is, it doesn't even feel like he's currently in Sierra Leone. I thought there would be additional security and checks etc but none of the sort. This is an article from Reuters
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Reuters AlertNet - FEATURE-The Hague thrives as international justice booms: "Slobodan Milosevic's cell may not be empty for long. The death of the former Yugoslav president was a brief setback in what is otherwise a boom time for international justice and its capital, The Hague.
Milosevic's death in custody deprived the U.N. tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY) of a verdict in the trial of its highest-profile suspect, but others should take his place soon in The Hague, including former Liberian leader Charles Taylor."

Sierra Leone Investment Conference - Communique

Summary can be downloaded here:

http://www.visitsierraleone.org/communique.pdf

Sierra Leone Investment Conference - Day 2 and 3

First all let me apologise, cos i left early yesterday and arrived late today. Ah tire. There's about 4-5 speakers per session and 4-5 sessions per day. Its a bit difficult to stay focused especially when some are effectively making a sales pitch. There's a lot of talking in this forum. Anyway...

Day 2 was the official opening by his Excellency the President. It was interesting seeing his intelligence guards in action. Before he spoke we heard the Minister of State in Ireland talk about Irish experiences in the past 20 years or so not being disimilar to the current situation we find ourselves in today (lack of tax payment, curroption etc). This is always good for inspiration but he also cautioned that overcoming their difficulties was a matter of hard work and dedication and not by good luck or some miracle. His govt promised an additional Euro7m to the govt depending on certain criteria being met (you should know the drill by now). He also paid glowing tribute to Kadie Sesay for her persistence in making sure he attended the forum. He said SL has a great ambassador in Kadie Sesay. I must say she always impresses.

His Excellency then made his speech which outline a lot of progress the govt have been making with regards security and economic growth. His speech was really packed with information but i fear the most of it probably didn't sink in as he delivered it like a man tired. Also i personally think it would have been good for him to deliver it standing up and with a bit more enthusiasm. He was delivering to an audience to which body language means a lot and is understood. I guess 10 years in charge of SL will take its toll eh?
Apparently Obasanjo was supposed to make an entry but he had being held up in New York due to an emergency... of course later in the day we heard Charles Taylor had gone missing.

After that we heard speeches from John Mbonu (Managing Director, Sierra Leone Brewery) and Mr Bernard Sisay (Marketing Director, Celtel). Both companies are big investors in Sierra Leone and provide employment to many. Apparently by the end of June Celtel would have invested $70million in Sierra Leone. Interestingly they acquired the license in 1998 - a period of intense insecurity in Sierra Leone. Brewery had their entire factory burnt down during the war but that didn't put them off coming back!

After that session, i headed off home.

Day 3 was tourism day. Minister Okere Adams made an enthusiastic speech full of energy. You cannot fault him on that. Whislt we also heard about the Mape Project which has been proposed. This is a huge dream.. hotels, golf courses, spas - the full monty. We also heard an expert on Eco-Tourism who is currently carrying out research on behalf of the world bank. Great thing about Eco-Tourism is that the investment required to kick things off his not huge. Anyway i asked Hon. about the Peninsula Road - apparently they have received the money and will tender bids - this was slightly confusing as i heard from another reliable source that he knew the person who won the contract. I was probably confused and tired at that point so don't quote me.
Also asked about the airport transfer issue - to which he confirmed that they currently have someone who wants to come in with a couple of hovercrafts. I asked about the cost of hotels and if concessions will be made to hoteliers.. also about the coperation between his department and the conservation society - i think i asked too many questions though and had more still. :) Anyway, like i said you cannot fault the man for energy and optimism. He also mentioned -again- that Sierra Leone is the safest country in Africa.

That was it really - i had other arrangements in the morning so could not make the morning session. I can sense your disappointment. Sorry gotta run off to Octopussy Wine Bar (its just started raining - wierd weather these days!!). If you ever stop by at Octopussy you have to cheeck out the name of their cocktails. Hilarious - clever though.

Sierra Leone Diaspora - Day 1

And so it was that the first day of the conference was held at Kimbima Hotel. Today was Diaspora day and most of the speeches reflected that theme. It was highlighted that the Sierra Leone Diaspora apparently remits back $1bn annually. If this is the case there is a definite need to tap into those resources and direct those resources from consumer based consumption to investment based consumption as highlighted by one of the speakers.

In the morning Kadie Sesay spoke about the diaspora but also focused on womens’ issues. After this, part of the audience departed to join what I think was a women’s discussion forum. The session following that saw the Chairman of the Sierra Leone Chamber of Commerce, Amadu Ndoeka with, Joseph J James, Min. for Development of Economic Planning (Hon Daramy) and Managing Director of KPMG David Carew on the panel. This section had an interesting exchange between the two. The Minister went first and spoke at length about Sierra Leone and the various initiatives, signed treaties and incentives for investors. He informed us that though he will not give a precise date for the solution to the electricity problems in Freetown he thinks that any day between now and the end of April when Eksom complete their project we can expect big things. I saw some rather sarcastic smiles in the audience - with a sort of "where have i heard that before?" look. I guess when it comes to electricity and other issues of infrastructural development, seeing is believing.

Then it was Carew’s turn to talk. He spoke about Public Private Parternships (PPPs) and their advantages, challenges and identified possible areas where PPPs would become incredibly useful due to lack of govt funds.

Later he gave an example, that a newly qualified doctor will earn Le300,000. Of course most of them refuse to work for the govt and in most cases leave to offer their services elsewhere. As a result govt approaches the international community for doctors. International community offers to pay their salaries but asks that the govt at least provide accommodation. Accommodation turns out to be around the range of $10,000 a year. Money he believes could have been put towards locally qualified doctors. The minister at this point interjects to state that Carew does not know what is going on. Carew then does not argue and says he accepts he doesn’t. Carew then goes on to mention a certain bridge that has been much talked about but to date has yet to become a reality (hon. looked a bit uncomfortable at this point). He pointed out that projects such as this and electricity would be ideal for PPP. Minister passes a note to the chairman which states that govt are ready and open to offers regarding the bridge. At the end of Carew’s speech he informed us that firstly, the President did not promise to build a bridge, he promised to carry out feasibility studies… this has now been completed and they are ready to listen to offers and engage companies in the possible building of the bridge.

The other panellist Joseph J James (a VSL forumite) spoke about his Peace Diamond Alliance, and a Bio-Mass project which is looking at converting waste into energy. He also spoke about the historical links between Sierra Leone and South Carolina and presented future opportunities for closer co-operation with the growth of DNA testing by African-Americans.

During the course of the day we heard from investors in the field of security and risk assessment, satellite services, investment services. We also heard a talk from a Sierra Leonean in the diaspora, a young man doing big things (another active VSL forumite). Conrad Parkes spoke about their investments in various parts of Africa but also what it was like coming to set up Bo’s first ISP in Sierra Leone. He also gave some useful recommendations for govt which were based on his experience – in particular around Company Registrations and Clearing goods at the Ports Authority.

The Ombudsman commented that clearing should not take more than 24hrs and if you find yourself being delayed for no apparent reason you can call his office and the issue would be resolved ASAP.

We also heard talks from Ade Daramy (Sierra Leone Diaspora Network) who appealed for words to be put into action and Oluniyi Robbin Coker (Sierra Leone Network) who provided interesting array of areas where policy changes are needed with urgency. Proud to say both are also VSL Forumites.

All in all not a bad first day, good opportunity for dialogue.. and the opportunity for govt to publicise some of the reforms that it has been undertaking. Eg issues surrounding dual citizenship which even though the Minister (or was it the Ombudsman?) claimed that Sierra Leoneans can now have dual citizenship - is still not clear. However if they said so... it must be true.

The forum will commence proper tomorrow following the official launch by His Excellency the President at Bintumani Hotel.