Lemurs, Lions, And Big Men - Saturdays By The Pool In The African Jungle

You can say one thing about Jacob M'bele, ruler of one of Africa's most desperately poor countries - he was good host; and any international consultant in the know angled for a sinecure there.

The country was in Conrad land - the heart of darkness, a small. largely forgotten place with cannibal tribes in the south, slave traders along the old salt route in the north, and impenetrable jungle everywhere else.  Few resource companies had wasted time there, for without offshore oil or the promise of rare earth minerals, there was little point.  

Those few that ventured in were pinning their hopes on the Ngogo Gorge, an accessible region to the far east where satellite imagery had suggested significant Beryllium deposits; but the region was ruled by warring tribes known for their Paleolithic primitivism and barbarity. 

At the same time no Western nation could ignore the country, home to millions of disenfranchised, impoverished black people.  Their constituencies simply could not abide the notion of wealth-only investment - and so millions of dollars and euros poured into M'bele's coffers each year with no strings attached.  

No development bank or foreign assistance agency expected anything in the way of reform or social progress from the M'bele regime, and so just sent the desultory mission once or twice a year to show the flag, to thank the president for his support, and to enjoy the splendors of the Marechal Hotel, a magnificent five-star palace set in the middle of the jungle but with all the amenities of first rate lodging and dining. 

The chefs - there were five of them recruited from Paris, Lyon, and Rome - cooked the most elegant and sumptuous meals outside of Europe.  The staff, all beautiful young Fulani women, were well trained, disciplined, and attentive.  The facilities were top of the line, the view from the verandah over the treetops was magnificent, and few travelers wanted to leave. 

Because of the nature of the grant agreements, no progress was expected, no schools built, no hospitals outfitted, no roads constructed; so the consultants there on mission were guilt-free as they enjoyed the sybaritic pleasures of Africa. 

The country, being in central Africa, was home to a variety of wildlife - not the impressive elephants, giraffes, and herds of gazelles found on the plains, but gorillas, lemurs, a variety of apes and monkeys, and the Bird of the Forest - an almost mythical creature few had seen although many had tried.

The natural resources of the M'bele Forest Preserve were well known. The park was an offering to the Western visitors who came to the country for other reasons and cost the President nothing.  His was an example of Africa's famed 'easy governance', a country ruled by a big man indifferent to his citizenry and happy to have a wild kingdom in his midst which required no maintenance. Animals and people were on earth to fend for themselves. 

Foreign visitors were divided in their interests - most preferred the comforts of the Marechal and the attentions of the Fulani hostesses; but there were some who felt that the opportunity to see nature in the wild was irresistible, and so every weekend went off into the jungle in special tours organized by the President.  He had beaters and ornithologists as advance men, so that that the travelers would never be disappointed and all would return happy and satisfied. 

 

Other African countries - Kenya, Tanzania, Botswana, and South Africa the most obvious - had made millions off their wild animals; and for most foreign visitors, that was what Africa was all about.  

Few cared about history (after all, sub-Saharan African 'empires' had left nothing behind and their existence was more conjecture than fact) fewer cared about culture (much of Africa had not progressed much beyond the Paleolithic), and other than a few totems, masks, and ornamental spears, there was little to speak of. 

For a while a number of American black tour groups 'returned' to Africa anxious to find and explore their roots, but few went back after their first visit.  It was bad enough to have been enslaved and transported to the New World in the stinking holds of four-masters but another thing altogether to see the miserable conditions of the continent today.  African Americans they might be, but the sooner they shed that label, the better. 

So, Europeans and Americans went there on safari, but that, with the emergence of AI and virtual reality, soon became tiresome and tedious.  Why would anyone put up with Africa when they could see lions and tigers on a big screen in their family rooms?

It was ironic of course that those white Americans who had shown so much solidarity with the black man were only interested in animals.  A view from the window of a three-star hotel in downtown Mombasa before heading to the veldt was quite enough human Africa for them, or perhaps a drive-by of Soweto; but the rest of the time was to be spent in the pre-human Africa, the Africa of tooth and claw. 

There are three Africas available to the foreign visitor - animals, pleasure, and the slums. Those privileged few who were able to find a sinecure in M'bele's kingdom were most fortunate, for he had built a virtual palace in the jungle, but other foreign dignitaries, international bankers, and development diplomats enjoyed similar comforts in other countries as well.  

Why on earth would they make unnecessary forays into the quartiers when they didn't have to, when business could be conducted in boardrooms and government offices?  And why in heaven's name would they choose to spend a weekend in the jungle looking at apes?

The second Africa is the plain, the veldt, and the forest, home to wild animals.  There are those who despite the advances in virtual reality still stick to their old ways and trek through rainforests and open spaces to catch a glimpse of something wild. 

The third Africa is the Africa of people - millions crowded into the unlivable slums of Kinshasa, Lagos, Nairobi, Johannesburg, Dar es Salaam, and Abidjan or scattered in mud and wattle in undeveloped inner regions.  Only the socially committed, the idealistic, and the social seekers venture there, lucky to get out with their lives. 

Until recently, the American government was committed to pouring money down the sluice for projects that never materialized, investments that were never retuned, and initiatives that fell flat; and there were thousands of young women who wanted to help implement them. After their sojourns they, like every other visitor, returned home never to return. 

African big men like M'bele are quite happy to take Western no strings attached largesse, continue their indifference to their people, and let wild animals roam free in the forest.  Being President for Life has many advantages. 

'Shameful', was often heard in the corridors of the World Bank about M'bele's infamous disregard for the people of his country, but these same project managers never said no to a week at the Marechal. 

Such is 'development', a game successfully played by M'bele and his cohorts, enjoyed by World Bankers, Peace Corps Volunteers, and development economists, and ignored by safari hunters, sanest of the lot.