Thoughts & Travels in West Africa
Travels in West Africa over several years, snippets of life, travelling information and the political climate.
Tuesday, October 20, 2020
Info or Intox?
Friday, October 9, 2020
Free!
Last night I was minding my own business driving through town after having taken some cash from the ATM machine, my phone was bleeping as usual with WhatsApp messages. I stopped briefly to buy a few bits from a Mauritanian corner shop and noticed my Swedish journalist friend had sent me some photos (of documents) with a message 'Is this your Italian?'
I glanced at the document whilst getting back into the car, tired and wondering about which Italian friend in the cryptic message. Then the name 'Nicola' jumped out at me, I pulled the car over admist angry taxi drivers hooting and read it a bit more closely. I also saw Sophie Petronin's name, a name I remember well, she was kidnapped from Gao whilst I was in Nouakchott, 24th December 2016 about to take the Route d'Espoir to Mali in a previous blog
Going back to February 2019 someone contacted me as the founder of the social media group 'West Africa Travellers' to ask if I had an Italian cyclist in the group or in our WhatsApp group. Not to my knowledge but I asked in the group to check. I was then told this tricycle riding Italian had gone AWOL a day or so before. Not of great concern, when travelling that slowly you can find yourself out of mobile phone range, until I was informed he had been last heard of in Douentza, Mali. This started ringing alarm bells being in a jihadi area and on a tricycle as a European he would stick out like a sore thumb.
I started making enquiries via various friends and contacts in Mali and with security people in the sub-region to ask what had been heard. In most cases no one realised he was missing! Nothing! I then asked a friend to call Douentza, we knew that the Gendarmerie had picked him up and given him a cell on the night of 2/3rd February but then bizarrely let him loose when a month or two before a Japanese tourist found on a barge at Mopti heading for Timbuktu had been hastily taken back to Bamako! The night of 3rd February I had it confirmed by friends he had stayed at the campsite in Douentza.
Last known online time was at 0906 local on 4th February, other travellers started sending me screenshots of their conversations with him. No one had a time after that. I was spending hours translating Italian so I could understand some of his conversations with his Italian childhood friend who made contact with me, I'll call the friend 'P' for now. Nicola had taken a screenshot of a map and said he was going up the road to Timbuktu, a road so dangerous not even my Malian friend in telecoms will attempt. There was also a message to another traveller that he was possibly looking to go to Timbuktu via the main road at Konna. It looked bleak for him either way. P had no knowledge of West Africa but was in touch with Nicola's wife and son in South America as well as his mother in Italy. We worked through many theories which the family were told about. The Italian government wanted his disappearance to be kept quiet, the family wanted this respected, hence my journalist friend knew only that I knew of a missing Italian when some of the story broke this year!
I called an aviation friend in the UN who put me in touch with the then Italian commander in Timbuktu who know of Nicola's case but was as lost as the rest of us as to his whereabouts. No one had heard on the grapevine if he'd been kidnapped, which at that time was his best option. The alternative didn't bear thinking about.
The months dragged on and on, P was occasionally in touch asking if I'd heard more, he would find things online and share them with me, but never a sighting of Nicola. April 2020, P was suddenly in touch with this one day, I was elated as I'm sure he was! But this was the only update we had, 6th April 2020 Info Air Agadez with video footage taken around Kidal.
We presume these photos were taken near Kidal around the same time, where we can see some of the other hostages including Sophie Petronin.
So after hurriedly looking at documents last night I called P in Italy, forgetting his written English is incredible but he finds it difficult to speak. He answered and I was screaming down the phone to him 'Do you have the documents of Nicola's release?' he didn't understand but could hear how excited I was. We hung up, I drove like a mad woman another kilometre up the road urgently wanting to send the documents from the Malian government in French to him. We were then both confused, it was 8th October 2020 last night, the document was giving the order for Nicola and Padre Luigi to be released on 6th October, so where were they?! More calls to an EU security advisor who's attached to an Embassy in the sub-region. He knew about the Franco-Swiss lady Sophie Petronin's release but was surprised when I told him Nicola was being released too in the deal. Even more surprising, P broke the news to Nicola's wife who also had no idea of the news!
After an hour of making a variety of calls to check if this was really true, we got word that an aircraft had landed in Bamako with the 4 hostages on board. Absolutely elated I received video of Petronin, Cissé and one other disembarking, both P and I believed this 3rd one was indeed Nicola.
This morning I received a photo from P, probably taken last night of Nicola in Bamako.
Unsure of the time he left Bamako on Friday 9th October 2020 but with Padre Luigi, they landed safely in Rome's Ciampino Airport around 1400h to be greeted by the Prime Minister and Foreign Minister of Italy. Awful to have come out of captivity for so long and find they must wear masks now ... the world has changed!Friday, August 2, 2019
An Ivorian dream becoming reality
Finally I changed jobs in May, but found a suitable house in Grand Bassam in April, signed the contract for it in June and have set up 'The Elephants Nests' which is still to have a dedicated website.
It's a wonderful house with private rooms, dormitories, space for big rigs and tents near the lagoon, 300metres away from the autoroute to the airport and Abidjan (15minute drive away) as well as the bridge to Ghana. Calm, peaceful and relaxing ... it's difficult to work here as it's so chilled.
I've had a few helpers through the gates already helping to get it started, it's starting to look like a nest for guests. Meanwhile I've been busy working with my new job which involves a lot of travelling in the sub-region which also enables me to keep the group I founded, West Africa Travellers updated with advice on visas, road and security conditions
Tuesday, November 27, 2018
2020 a year to watch
The beginning of a third decade in the new millennium
The elections are due to be held across Africa during 2020 in:
Burkina Faso
Burundi
Cote d'Ivoire
Ghana
Guinea
Togo
That's a lot across West Africa
I've been talking to Ivorian friends about the situation locally for the next elections as that is where I'm most concerned. After the municipal elections in early October 2018 that caused chaos in some regions of the country, as there was one declared death (Lakota) and a lot of post-election dramas.
I asked the question; as I usually do!
The last Presidential elections in Cote d'Ivoire passed peacefully in general but that's because the Gbagboists refused to vote.
So where does that leave 2020 in the sub-region of West Africa, particularly Cote d'Ivoire?
A lot of friends are already talking about leaving the country to watch the elections pass from afar. Personally this worries me as it hints at something more ominous. Currently there's no clear leader to take over from Alassane Ouattara.
Having said this, over the last few years, Burkina Faso has had an de-facto government when Compaore was exiled, Burundi has seen a lot of turmoil, another country I love and was shocked to hear a hand grenade go off within an hour of my arrival a few years ago. Burundi is in chaos and I hope it stops soon! Ghana has a President that wants to leave his religious mark with a building resembling the Yamoussoukro Basilica despite not having schools nor regular electrical supplies, so dumsor makes today's headlines. Guinea's fortunes change daily, I'm not going to comment on that or Togo's possible perilous future ...
2020 is a year to watch ... I hope I'll be more optimistic soon!
Saturday, November 17, 2018
When you unexpectedly and unfortunately meet new friends
What evolved I couldn't have made up, had nightmares about or lived through.
In early October, a world-travelled German couple settled down for the night in their pick-up camper on the outskirts of Boma, DRC, unfortunately next to a cemetary. They were rudely disturbed by 4 masked men brandishing machetes and rudimentary flaming torches, banging on the side of the vehicle and apparently threatening to set the fuel tank alight! The owner went out and used pepper spray which caught two of them and a 3rd apparently ran away, sadly the owner was murdered that night.
The aftermath was horrendous, despite not being on the ground but trying to support and coordinate the situation from home, it chilled me to the bone. However, it created a friendship with people I've never met who were instrumental in helping the widow of the murdered traveller. They had already met the couple several years ago in Venezuela and managed to catch up with them in West Africa. The night the murder took place in Boma, they were in a nearby town, fortunately.
The body was taken to the morgue but the situation with the perpetrators had escalated. A woman had been raped the same day, under the alleged threat of 'the same treatment as the white man' if she didn't concede. Meanwhile the widow and friends, none of whom spoke fluent French were waiting in a hotel in Boma for consular assistance, opposite the police station where the main suspect was being held. See more in this French blog post: Assassins du touriste allemand aux arrêts
The German Embassy in Kinshasa were in contact but German public holidays were obviously of more importance as 'Unity Day' celebrations meant that they couldn't make it to Boma. They had said they were going to travel to Boma but late in the afternoon of that day, they announced they weren't coming. Luckily the widow and friends weren't aware that there was an Embassy party going on in Kinshasa where rumours ruled; the murderer was a soldier, the Embassy was going to organise the shipment of the vehicle back to Europe (I'd already contacted shipping companies in Matadi and the couple had organised it all on the ground). When the widow called the Embassy to ask about progress getting herself home the answer was 'We are not a travel agency' it was all nonsense!
After almost a week, these wonderful new friends who had organised everything, dispatched the widow on a flight from Boma to Kinshasa to connect onto a flight home to her family in Germany. The vehicle was ready to be shipped to Belgium (although due to German import tax it's now somewhere in the Atlantic heading for the USA) and the body was finally released by the Mayor who didn't want any trouble and was probably trying to cover things up. A lot of this was also thanks to a wonderful Dutch man in South Africa with Congolese contacts, so a lot of noise was made in the higher echelons of the DRC government. Luckily the widow left DRC with an expired visa but yet again this gentleman stepped in and sent a lawyer to the airport in case she had more dramas to live through!
Just over a month later, his widow is back in Germany trying to put her life back together after over 30 years of marriage but is determined to continue travelling, she's a brave lady! The couple that helped her I'm dying to meet, amazing people who sent me a birthday video last month which had me in tears; we keep in regular contact via WhatsApp! Although I'm rather jealous, they met up with the Dutch man in South Africa for a coffee earlier this week and will be flying home tomorrow ...
Nothing ever prepares you for travel in Africa! However, this was a very unfortunate one-off incident in the western part of DRC which is generally safe ... It's often better to be surrounded by walls at night in regions like this, but so many others who have driven through have camped similarly!
I wish my new friends bon voyage on their flight home tomorrow and hope one day we can meet!!!
Saturday, June 23, 2018
Answering endless requests about the region
I digress ... but on several occasions I've met people and talked to them over the years of travelling around the sub-region and then been asked 'Are you Kira?' ...
So I've set up a group on Facebook to cover all things West African related to travelling, without any touts hopefully! The group can help and advise others who are in the region. It's open to all heading that way or who are already there!
Join us by clicking here: West Africa Travellers on Facebook
Friday, March 23, 2018
Occitanie Attacks
Currently at Lisbon Airport having a melt down.
Why is it that madmen need to prove themselves to the world, the only result is a bullet in the head ...
I've been in some nasty situations over too many decades across Africa, of course I've been upset after when the shock has set in ...
I'm not in Africa, I'm on my way there ...
This attack happened in a supermarket I know well ... Super U, Trebes
A 'county' town that I shop in ... Carcassonne
Tomorrow morning the press will be clamouring over themselves to blame the 'immigrant' (it's believed he's originally from Morocco), the religion and continuing to bang on the anti-immigration drum
I shall be far away, with friends of different nationalities, different religions, all chatting and sharing a meal together
Where did the West go so wrong???
When I've dried my eyes, I might see more clearly!
Wednesday, March 21, 2018
There's nowt so queer as folk ...
In West Africa we could possibly re-name them "parasites". These parasites move from place to place, gathering information, using other people's names to get favours (mine in one instance after a 5minute chat in Casablanca airport when I suggested somewhere to stay in Accra, Ghana)! They lean on others to organise their onward trip, pleading poverty to avoid paying meals, internet, phone credit or a night's stay and in true parasitical fashion have other travellers pay their drinks!!! They don't bother to try to learn about the culture or local languages. However they don't think twice about splashing out for sports lessons or food shopping in a western supermarket under the noses of those who have helped them that have to shop in the local market as they can't afford to spend so extravagantly!
Wednesday, July 26, 2017
Ode to an Irishman!
Stephen Keenan died on Saturday in the Blue Hole, in Dahab, Egypt. Steve was an amazing guy, we've kept in contact for 10 years after travelling together after a chance meeting. He was open, honest, laid back and loyal to his friends. He had a heart of gold, always looked for the positives, didn't take any stick from anyone and he loved the Dubs!
He had a wanderlust, like so many of us, it took him to South America then onto Africa which is where we met. People have been asking me where we met, I nicknamed him BBB, short for Bissau Brothel Boy, we met in a brothel in the Caracol district of Bissau. A pretty horrendous area of town, we later discovered that it was a hive of activity for crack cocaine and the evening wasn't the most calm I've had in my travels! As described in my 2006/2007 trip to the region it wasn't as though we had much choice in Bissau but to sleep here and by pure chance Steve also decided to find a room at the same place, considering we'd not seen another European since Senegal, it was a surprise to meet him. Steve took a photo of one of the rooms the following morning, it was awful and always said to me, his mother should never find out that he was forced to stay in this lousy hellhole, he also described it as a 'Gentleman's Club' hmmm!
Commandering a boat to the Bijagos with the Bubaque Chief of Police |
I'm telling this story now because I don't want to forget some fun memories, often dangerous but Steve took the brunt of the danger. We crossed the border into Guinea separately, we'd separated in the UNESCO protected Bijagos Islands, I headed back to Bissau, he went onto another island, Orango famous for it's saltwater hippos where he wanted to swim with them. From Bissau I went onto the Guinea Conakry border with my Italian friend Gianni who also thought the world of Steve. He was a few days behind us but we were in contact. When we got to the Fouta Djalon region of Guinea there were strikes against President Conte, the Guinean President of that time. The country had a major fuel crisis and things were getting desperate, I decided to head into Senegal as my flight left from Dakar, Gianni went south to Conakry to carry on eastbound, Steve was still somewhere in the west of Guinea.
Steve Keenan RIP - on Bubaque, he loved water, died doing what he loved |
On arriving home in France I got frantic messages from Steve, he was near Donka Bridge area of Conakry and there was gunfire all around. Power outages were getting worse and his mobile phone battery was getting lower but could I help him? I rang the Irish Embassy in Paris, declaring his situation but it was a weekend, the consular official on duty was a saint, he rang the Foreign Affairs office in Dublin who subsequently called Steve to check on his safety and make arrangements for him. Sunday morning, Steve was calmly having a cup of tea with the British Consul having made it across town in the chaos with the Consul waiting at his front door for him. He made it across into Sierra Leone the next morning, from memory. An excerpt of an e-mail:
"In Freetown myself - got here last night after aother fucking shocker of a trip. Should of been 6 hours but due to a wreck of a car took 13! Left Conakry at 9 nd arrived here around 10 a broken man, covered in dust and smelling of diesel..
Sent you a text, not sure if you got it. Anyway I should be overjoyed and happy to be here but truthfully I'm not - I'm sad to have left Guinea behind and my heart aches thinking about all my friends I became so attached to while stuck in Conakry. That's one reason I hate staying in places for more that a few days - you can create relationships that become so hard to walk away from. Just hope things work out for them.
Anyway the reality is that I got out of there with my life and all my stuff, which might well of not been the case - so that, and all your help, I'm extremely grateful for. Thanks"
I got regular texts and e-mails from him telling me about his journey and experiences in Sierra Leone and horrendous journey down the coastal road in Liberia. Then he got to Cote d'Ivoire, describing Abidjan as somewhere like Europe, reminded him of a few South American cities he had been to. He was due to meet his father and brother in Bamako, they were flying in from Dublin and it was clear he was very excited about having some of his family with him. He sent an e-mail to me protesting at the cost of a bus to Bamako at 40,000CFA (price has dropped considerably since then!) and was off to find other options. He obviously went back to the bus company as I was getting text messages telling me how he had bought a seat but there was a big argument between the driver and the bus station chief that he couldn't understand and he kept being told to get off the bus. Finally I got a text telling me he was en route for Bamako, but had to get through the northern part of Cote d'Ivoire which at that point was controlled by the Forces Nouvelles, the 'rebel' army. His texts went dead for over 48hours, I was concerned but had no way of contacting him. This an e-mail arrived a few days later explaining the silence after the few texts I'd received when he was free:
Just over a year later, I went to Bouake as an Irishwoman, it was still controlled by the Forces Nouvelles but they weren't too worried about my presence. I asked around about an Irishman that had been imprisoned a year earlier, they all knew about him, referred to him as my 'comrade' and were confused as to why he'd been imprisoned. Steve had told me at the time they believed he was a spy ... for who? The Irish government???!!! The border town he was taken to was Ouanlangoudou, I remember the text message asking me if I could pronounce it ... I can now!!! It was good to be there on 30th December in Franki
Steve said he'd always like to return to Cote d'Ivoire, I always hoped he would one day ... he sent a good few texts and e-mails as he made his way through West Africa, adored Nigeria, went up the Congo on barges with his backpack, loved Uganda, Kenya then found Dahab, Egypt where he's been living for the past 8 years and very sadly lost his life on Saturday. He's had tributes pouring in on an international basis. Some lovely photos here of the guy who always went home to see the Dubs play at Croke Park where on 5th August there will be a round of applause in his memory during a match at the 39th minute, he died too young at 39 but doing something he loved, a small consolation! Steve, a true hero in various press reports
RIP Steve, you're missed by so so many of us who had the pleasure to meet you!
Sunday, May 14, 2017
The Capital Goal
Bus from Niamey, Niger - a long tiring drive! |
Poor old sheep, sun, exhaust fumes and staying upright with the bumps |
Bouake |
Ridiculous place to take a photo whilst driving! Should be ashamed of myself!!! |
New Ivorian beer, made from rice, brewed by Heineken |
PC - to who I owe a lot over the years, a true friend! |
Friday, May 12, 2017
Final border
Franki at The Sleeping Camel
A restful night at The Sleeping Camel I got up to have a warm shower and coffee. Phil was already working and hoping to finally introduce me to his wife and new son. Sitting, sipping endless cups of coffee with him and Jeff, a UN aviation consultant, we chatted for what seemed like hours. I was getting more than aware that time was marching on and I should be hitting the road south.
The aim was to get into Cote d'Ivoire today, it was Friday 30th December 2016 and I could see my goal of spending New Years Eve in Yamoussoukro with friends being accomplished! I had to unfortunately bid goodbye though, but not before Phil refused to let me pay my bill, too kind of him! I had missed meeting Bintou and Andre who I hope I'll meet in the near future. I drove back out onto the main road to find someone to check the tyre pressure.
Getting out of Bamako was straightforward, I knew the road well as far south as Ouelessebougou and once out of the chaos of Bamako and nearby dormitory towns, the road was smooth sailing. In Ouelessebougou it was obviously market day, driving through teems of people along the road selling their wares. After Bougouni the road was quieter until eventually I pulled into Sikasso without stopping, covering 368km by around 1.30pm, I was happy with our progress. I had ideally wanted to go to the bus station and talk to people there about children being trafficked southbound, but as Sikasso had witnessed a fairly recent AQIM attack, I needed to find a bed tonight during daylight hours so dropped the idea. Found a lovely service station in Sikasso, bought a few bits to eat, had a coffee and refuelled Franki.
The road from Sikasso to the border was in relatively good shape but the relentless re-surfacing caused a few problems and it had to be treated with a little more respect than the one from Bougouni. I sent a text to my friend PC in Yamoussoukro to ask him for some Ivorian phone credit on one of my Ivorian numbers just to be ready. Reaching the border at about 4pm, it was a painless and straightforward process to exit Mali apart from dodging around trucks to find the correct offices. I was out of Mali, I was finally heading into Cote d'Ivoire, I surprised myself by finding tears running down my face. I was back in the most beautiful country after 4 months away, a country I seem to have adopted over the years!!!
The Ivorian border started with the police. I had a grumpy officer who sent me back to Franki to get her documents too; desperate to find something out of place he finally grunted and stamped my passport! The rope barrier was raised as the passenger door was suddenly opened, another officer jumped into the passenger seat, I asked him what he was doing and was told that he was coming to Abengourou with me! I managed to extract myself from that situation and drove onto customs at Pogo which was a kilometre or so ahead, which is where the trouble started.
Heading into the customs office they told me I could have a 'vignette touristique' as I didn't have a carnet but this would cost 32,000CFA or 50€. I laughed at him and told him that I knew they were free, he wasn't laughing, I knew I had a battle on my hands. I flatly refused to pay, told him it was just a corrupt way of getting cash out of 'la blanche' and a real shame for tourism for Cote d'Ivoire. He still wasn't budging, so I offered to call a senior police officer and friend ... he thought I was bluffing, I wasn't! Slightly bemused he took the phone from me and my friend told him that he wanted to speak to his chief, he disappeared into the chief's office for a few minutes, returned and handed me the phone. I thanked my friend profusely and watched my vignette touristique being typed up! Grinning from ear to ear, I jumped back into Franki and headed as quickly as possible at about 5.45pm towards Ouangolodougou, known as just Ouangolo (/wangolo/)
The road for the first 86km in Cote d'Ivoire was horrendous. Pot-holed and difficult; I wasn't happy about being near the border in the dark and know that this road is often ambushed by 'coupeurs de route' at night. I pressed on as fast as was safe to do so before finally reaching Ouangolo about 2hours after leaving Pogo. Getting into town 557km after leaving Bamako, there wasn't anywhere obvious to sleep, I found a young couple getting on a jakarta and stopped to ask for ideas of where to stay. Stephane told me to follow him, he took me to what seemed to be a nice hotel but I wouldn't be able to park Franki inside and the rooms were out of my budget, I asked him if he knew of another. He told me he would drop his girlfriend who ran a fish stall at a maquis then take me across town. We finally ended up at a great little place with rooms at 4,000CFA, I then asked him about a nearby maquis to go and eat at; there wasn't anything but he offered to go and get me some fish from his girlfriend. Very happily esconced near the hotel with a drink, he came back with the fish which is when I got the news that my friend's father had died, someone I held in very high esteem. Tears poured down my face, poor Stephane really didn't understand what had gone wrong ... I managed to explain, apologise and pull myself together, we finished the fish together, he headed home to his gendarme father and I had a sound night's sleep!
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Ouangolodougou - Arrived from Bamako, destination: Yamoussoukro |
Monday, May 8, 2017
Bamako bound
First flat tyre |
The culprit |
Brilliant synopsis of mileage at the Seneglese border post! |
Franki at the Malian border post |
Around Kenieba |
Somewhere a few kilometres outside Kenieba |
Scenery before Kita |
Kita outside the maquis |
Finally I got into central Bamako 567km completed but I had to contend with the jakartas (49cc scooters) which were abundant in the traffic and it was dangerous negotiating a path around them. Whilst in the midst of all this traffic at dusk, Phil called me to find out where I was, I couldn't exactly tell him but he was happy I was somewhere in town. I managed to find my way to the bridge based on old knowledge of the city and drove over it unsure where exactly the Sleeping Camel was, but knowing it was close to the River Niger. At the lights I turned left into a road that was heavily guarded. Eventually I found myself outside the unmarked gates and called Phil declaring that I thought I was on his doorstep. Sure enough I was, I drove in, Franki took out one of his young trees with her roofrack but I parked squarely against the wall. Jumping out I got a massive welcome from Phil and Oleg, the Russian biker who indeed had made it to Bamako for his Nigerian visa! I was imagining that Christophe would have been annoyed that I'd made it so quickly, he could have come with me and flown home from Bamako!
Sunday, May 7, 2017
Bumping east!
Another coffee break |
Really into baobab country |
Views from Campement Hotel Wassadou |
Christophe's transport west |
Nids d'Elephants ... the most horrendous piece of road for 90km, this was a relatively good stretch! |
Only 8km from Wassadougou I found roadworks, red dust found its way into everything, this continued for 30km. It was gruelling and I could help but thinking that Christophe had done the right thing to leave me at Wassadougou. I turned the music up, sang along (Christophe used to whistle badly but he hadn't heard my singing which is always badly out of tune) and got on with the job of driving. I entered the Niokolo Koba National Park which is split by this main road, and hoped to see the end soon. Coming across a small two door car that had stopped in the opposite direction with a French lady in her fifties or so and I presume her elderly mother I asked when it would end. She grunted at me and said, it's horrendous, it gets worse. I hoped she was just in a bad mood and this wouldn't be the case. The roadworks finished, I was on tarmac again for all of maybe a kilometre then the potholes started, in French they're called 'nids de poules' or chicken nests. These weren't chicken nests but elephant sized nests and horrendous, I was averaging 10kph it was taking all my concentration to drive Franki through the best bits of the road. The worrying part was that there was very little traffic, for an hour or so I didn't come across any traffic at all. The only signs of life I saw were a few warthogs and some policemen happily asleep under a tree midway through the park. Putting a possible breakdown situation to the back of my head, I slowly crept forward to Kedougou wondering if I'd make it by dusk. I later told my friend Phil in Bamako about this stretch of road, he took it a few weeks later on a jakarta scooter and also suffered!