The Environment Fights Back

In September 2015, I wrote in a post, labelled Consequences , about the danger we face when extreme weather events occur in a backdrop of environmental vandalism. What provoked me to write then was the loss of life and property that occurred in Freetown as a result of flooding that followed several days of heavy rain. Although the city of Freetown is used to rain during its rainy season, the intensity and quantity of rain on that occasion was unprecedented. At the time, I wondered whether the increasing ferocity of the rainy season could be a result of climate change associated with increased CO₂ emissions which began at the start of Europe’s industrial revolution and which has continued through to the present day.

And here we are again, barely two years on, facing exactly the same environmental circumstances with considerably greater human suffering: More than five hundred dead, six hundred others missing and thousands made homeless. How bad does it have to get?

Now, I am no geographer. Nor am I a climatologist. But, as a concerned citizen, when experts tell me that significant, and probably irreversible, climate change is imminent, I sit up and listen. And if they tell us further, that the threat is mostly due to unregulated increase in the accumulation of atmospheric CO₂ brought on by reckless human behaviour, that, I reckon, should instil in us a sense of urgency and make us want to modify our behaviour immediately.

But reducing CO₂ emissions is just one side of the equation. The other side is the protection and preservation of the naturally-occurring mechanisms that soak up CO₂ as part of the normal cycle of life. And, notwithstanding my lack of deep knowledge of climatology, I do retain elements of secondary school biology that taught me that green plants absorb CO₂ from the atmosphere to use for food, with oxygen as a by-product. All very neat, and consistent with maintaining a life-sustaining equilibrium. 

 We mess with this equilibrium at our peril. But everywhere around the world there are examples of man-made environmental degradation. And nowhere is this more glaring than in and around the city of Freetown. The hills overlooking the city, once covered in lush tropical forests, have been brutally stripped of their cover in a continuing act of environmental vandalism that the government of Sierra Leone has been complicit in. It is not certain whether this dereliction of duty has been deliberate or just negligent, but the result has been the same. It may be that the direct consequence on the micro-climate surrounding Freetown is insubstantial, although the direct effects on the stability of the ground itself has been all too obvious: Erosion of land without its trees and shrubs to anchor it to its substratum is inevitable. Indeed, no rain is required for this kind of topsoil loss to take place. The merest breath of wind is enough to remove the topsoil and blow it into the sea.  And then, if the terrain becomes sodden with the heavy rain that is typical for the months of July and August, the only predictable outcome is the one that we have just witnessed: A massive shifting of the land down towards the sea, sweeping everything in its path.

Quite possibly, the current disaster might have been mitigated had it not been that dwelling houses, if such structures can be so designated, had been built in the same ground that has been denuded of vegetation, weakening the land’s cohesion even further. Once again I have to deny any expert knowledge in engineering this time, but the dictates of common sense would preclude building in such locations without proper precaution and adherence to regulation that, not to put too fine a point on it, is stupid.

But what kind of stupid would lead to a catastrophe of this magnitude, right in front of our eyes? I will answer the question. It is the kind of stupid that is compounded with a corrupt system of land allocation and building codes regulation presided over by a government system that is, if not out and out corrupt, certainly languidly supine. I have no direct evidence of this. I am just saying. But if you look at the predatory tendencies of those who grab land, there is only one conclusion to draw. Namely, that those in charge have been complicit in the evolution of this disaster.

One might well ask, what is the purpose of government, if not to protect its citizens from death and destruction? Successive Sierra Leone governments have failed, and failed again, almost on a yearly basis, to meet this fundamental duty.

Tell Fren Tru

Spot The Difference. If You Can

What is the difference between the Taliban and Boko Haram on the one hand and senior functionaries in Sierra Leone’s Ministry of Health and Sanitation on the other?

Well, for one thing, the Taliban and Boko Haram have a thing against immunizing children for diseases that maim and kill. They espouse a hopeless cause. For them, immunizing children holds not only doctrinal risks (against religion) but is also a plot hatched by western medicine to sterilize and infect with HIV in order to reduce the world’s population of believers.

It is difficult to wrap this sort of nonsense around the head, especially for something in which the science is so clear. The record of how polio has been virtually eliminated in the developed world is there for all to see, and it is something that sensible people would like to replicate everywhere. And smallpox too, that millennial scourge, has been eradicated. Before, if you had smallpox, it either killed you dead or disfigured you for the rest of your life. Now, you just don’t get it. The responsible virus has been wiped out. End of story. The list of other diseases which have been controlled by vaccination is long: Diphtheria, whooping cough, tetanus, measles, pneumonia, meningitis, yellow fever and even TB, killers all. And every day, new triumphs are recorded... Hepatitis, cervical cancer...

The record is without parallel in the saving of lives and the reduction of human suffering, but GAVI reckons that there are still 22 million children worldwide who do not have access to such lifesaving and life-enhancing prophylaxis. GAVI is a global alliance for vaccines and immunization that works towards reducing this access gap. It is a private-public partnership that provides vaccines at low cost and even at no cost at all to poor countries. They even give cash-money for infra-structure so that the vaccination process can proceed smoothly. They have had a big presence in Sierra Leone over the last decade and deploy their largesse through NGO’s and the Sierra Leone Ministry of Health and Sanitation (MoHS).

That ministry is staffed by a large number of professionals grounded in medicine, statistics, public health, economics, etc. You name it, they have the scientist for it. So, you would expect that the vaccine programme will be a breeze. But hold on a minute. Just in the last couple of days, we hear that ten senior officials in that ministry have been suspended from duty over allegations that money for infra-structure provided by GAVI has gone missing and that the Anti-Corruption Commission (ACC) are determined to get to the bottom of these allegations. The charge list includes the highest-ranking bureaucrat in the ministry, the Chief Medical Officer, whose professional oath requires him to “First, do no harm…"

Mind you, these are just allegations and we must wait for the findings of the ACC. But if confirmed, I ask you, “What is the difference between Sierra Leone Ministry of Health officials and the Taleban? And Boko Haram?”

Tell Fren Tru

Insecurity at Lungi’s International Airport (The lads are here)

Just over a week ago, on Christmas Day, a passenger allegedly attempted to ignite a device on board a Delta Airlines flight, just as it began its final approach to Detroit’s international airport. The flight had originated at Amsterdam’s Schiphol, but the passenger in question, Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab, had started his travels in West Africa, from Accra in Ghana, to Lagos and then on to Amsterdam.

This news set bells of recognition clanging in my head, as I recalled our transit through another West African Airport just a few days earlier. Then it was Freetown’s Lungi International Airport, when our passage through security was no different from the many others we have had the misfortune to endure at that airport. It was lamentable. Firstly, to set the scene, there were no electronic scanning devices to monitor check-in baggage so that, as a result, checking had to be done by hand.

In order for a hand search of check-in baggage to be conducted, you have to present your travel documents and stand face-to-face with the security agents, whose body language was more than eloquent in conveying the terms under which the imminent transaction was to take place.  By winks and nudges, the two officials communicated that our bags need not be subjected to a search if we played our part in this sordid drama. There was nothing left to the imagination for a misunderstanding of what exactly we had to do to avoid a legally required safety measure. And, looking at us directly in the eye, they made a show of not opening and examining our bags, adding that we were respectable, mature citizens that should not be subjected to the indignity of a search.  And, as we moved on, the final verbal appeal came: “You borbor den dey naya, oh. Dis na Chrismess,” meaning, “Your lads are here. This is Christmas.”

One can take whatever message from this, ranging from a benign effusion of seasonal goodwill to the malign solicitation for improper conduct. However, the expression, “You borbor den day nay oh ” is a well-recognized code, applicable in all seasons, requesting a bribe or tip for services rendered. In this case, it was obviously the latter, an outrageous attempt to receive money for services purportedly delivered, or more accurately, for a dereliction of duty.

That was our progress through check-in baggage security. Checking of hand luggage was equally unsatisfactory. Electronic metal detectors stood as silent monuments to the absence of a maintenance culture and so manual checking was again, mandatory. Here, as before, the body language spoke volumes. Anticipating that we would understand what was being said, the examination of our hand baggage was token, if that. I had a laptop as well as other minor electronic gadgetry, which remained undisturbed in their sections in my bag. What was done, at least in my case, was a patting down to ensure that I had not secreted any prohibited items on my person. That was good. And to give the devil its due, it seems likely that, if Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab had tried to get through, Lungi security, already dressed to kill, he would have been foiled at that point. Anyway, we declined to perform according to script and escaped into the pre-boarding lounge, feeling that we were in the hands of a capricious providence that could decide our fate in whatever way it felt disposed.

I know that there will be howls of protests about these observations with denials coming from all quarters. But if the authorities are ready to take their responsibilities seriously, they will take a close look into Lungi Airport security with the seriousness that this matter deserves. After all, this government is sworn to rooting out corrupt practices that impede progress in our country and that it will deny protection to sacred cows. And it would take only one unfortunate act of negligence to bring us again into the headlines. I can just see them with the old, tired mantras being trotted out again “Sierra Leone, just emerging from a brutal civil war, is a perfect breeding ground for terrorists schooled in the arts of limb hacking, etc, etc, blah, blah, blah.” Apart from the appalling loss of life that could result, our national pride cannot withstand any such further injury. As we say in Krio: “Lonta.” “You have been warned.” 

Tell Fren Tru

A Diasporan’s Lament. Freetown in decline

I cannot remember how many times I have returned home to Sierra Leone to visit. I am one of those expatriates laboring under the weight of the modern day term, “Diasporan,” an ugly word that forces computer spell-check programmes to gag. The word mutated, one supposes, from its more elegant antecedent, “Diaspora,” a term indicating a place or location into which a people, preferably a “chosen one,” has been scattered or dispersed, usually by forces beyond their control.  The word “Diaspora,” usually preceded by the definite article, also serves as a collective to include all the individuals inhabiting this borderless space. But now, in its mutated version, it identifies the individual members involved in or afflicted by dispersal.

Those of us belonging to a certain generation became Diasporans in a more leisurely or benign age, when the word was not yet even invented, and when we boarded steamers or, less commonly, airliners that took us in orderly packets to places that were not too remote, psychologically or geographically. But more recently, the exigencies of war, civil upheaval and economic hardship have scattered later generations into the far reaches of the known world. So, it is now not unusual to hear of Sierra Leoneans plying a lone and lonely existence in places as far away as Sebastopol, Samoa or Gisborne, New Zealand, where the 24 hour day begins.

Residing in the Diaspora evokes a subtext of exile as well, since for some, return to the homeland during their remaining years is difficult, if not impossible. And even in death, repatriation, as cargo is financially prohibitive. Even for those who make good in their new location, their achievement is permanently undermined by the loss of something left behind for ever, according to the late Edward Said, in his essay, “Reflections on Exile,”

For those of us who are not truly exiled, but fortunate enough to undertake periodic visits back, this sense of loss is only slightly less wounding, as we observe the dereliction to which the native land has sunk, and which, in a sense, exiles us all over again. Life circumstances improve marginally, if at all, for the ordinary Sierra Leonean who is grounded by a poverty that soaks into everything. Most are stranded between an honest dignified poverty on the one hand and on the other, the temptations of relative affluence underwritten by subtle or more blatant acts of corruption. A few, especially among those in government employment, participate in parallel small business schemes. Known locally as a “Mammy Coker,” -don’t ask- such enterprises provide some relief.

The Sierra Leone River separates Freetown from its international airport at Lungi, from which access to the city is a trial all on its own. The tribulations involved in achieving this relatively modest objective have been recounted often enough; such is the pain and suffering. But once one has gained a foothold on the south shore of the river, the sense of relief is so powerful that one tends to ignore the rough interjection into Freetown’s chaotic traffic in which vehicles, retired from elsewhere in the world, ply the narrow, potholed streets in tight formation. The only vehicles that cannot boast such provenance are the gadfly “ocada” taxis, high-emitting, noise-polluting motor cycles, that are the answer to the snarled up traffic in many of West Africa’s major cities.

Freetown is plainly down at heel and finding a place to stay can be tricky. We regularly patronize a guest house near the city centre close to government offices and other businesses, and where the staff is very friendly and the food of reasonable quality. They do a Friday afternoon buffet of Sierra Leone cuisine that is totally scrumptious and, at Le30,000 for all you can eat, is very good value. Drinks, unfortunately, are extra.

This time, we walked into a major nation-wide health exercise, targeting yellow fever and measles, with crowds lining up for vaccination, and a few days later we participated in a sponsored walk in support of sickle cell care. Now, a week later, it is World AIDS day and big rallies and other public events were mounted to highlight the disease and its prevention.  Even respectable houses are not oblivious to their public health responsibilities: Our guest house is playing its part, as each room is furnished with a starter pack of four condoms to assist those who might have omitted to be so provisioned. In my case, I took no recourse to this gesture of hospitality. The anti-HIV campaign is very much at street level, too. I overhead a conversation between two bank clerks, with one asking the other whether she had gone to be tested. The other replied that she saw no reason to be tested. But her interrogator persisted, and told her that one’s status does change and one needs to be up to date. She replied that there had been no change in her life to warrant new testing. When I had a chance, I enquired whether the questioner was the HIV-AIDS czarina of the bank. Her reply was reassuring: She said that she was not, but was merely making sure that everyone took advantage of the opportunity to get tested at a booth conveniently located just outside the bank.

And as I stepped out of the bank later, a street vendor sidled up and asked whether I would like to buy some of his wares. When I asked what he had to sell, he told me it was something “For man, sah,” the exact words that were used to me a few months earlier while on a visit here. Then, it was a sachet of little blue pills from India and now, sachets of condoms, again from India. It was the same peddler, too. I asked him what he saw in me that made him feel that I was a potential customer for his range. He did not see the humour.

Seedy perhaps, but Freetown, it would appear, has at least one reason to be proud, in seriously taking on the fight against sexually transmitted diseases. Talking about seediness- The physical state of the city is totally shambolic. Kroo Bay is much talked about in the international press and elsewhere as the quintessential slum, but there are many other areas in this city competing for this dubious accolade. In the less insalubrious areas, building maintenance is shockingly indifferent, whilst new buildings sprout up in a most disorderly manner, without any perceivable added value to the built environment. City planners are either in a state of stupor or otherwise are guilty of criminal negligence. “Will they ever be brought to book for this reckless abandonment?” one wonders. And as far as abandonment goes, it seems that the old Freetown Krio domestic architecture has been abandoned to the ravages of time. Many fine examples of these houses remain in various parts of the city, but sadly, the majority are in a state of elegant disrepair. I will have more to say about this in a future blog.

Tell Fren Tru