Rhythm 15 - Hypocatical

Most readers of this will know that I confidently present myself as ‘anti-pet’. It makes me quite unpopular at parties, as I generally decide not to shirk the discussion should someone ever ask me whether I have them or not. Some might say I even happily provoke the debate that often ensues.

Around six weeks ago, we had something of a fraught week of mouse sightings. Nobody sane actually likes mice that invade their house, despite what they might say. At best they are a nuisance; at worst, they have been described by yours truly as “furry little b*****d things” that are dirty and cause havoc.

This set us thinking, and we ascertained that the most effective way of alleviating our rodent friends was...to acquire a cat. Or ‘puss’, as they are affectionately known in Krio. This was quite the detachment for me, as you might expect.

With pride swallowed, we asked the caretakers of our flat to keep their ears open to any nearby male kittens that needed a home. Less than a week later, we had received the merchandise. We had already decided on the name of ‘Ishmood’ – a clever combination of the two caretakers who helped us find him, Ishmael and Mahmood.

It turns out that our new housemate is actually...(yelp)...quite fun to have around. This is, of course, quite challenging for someone who thinks that pet ownership is the final and patronising victory of man over beast. Discuss.

An interesting footnote to Ishmood’s arrival is the fact that despite assurances that he was a ‘man puss’, he is in fact a girl. That hasn’t stopped me calling him ‘mate’ or referring to him as ‘him’. To me, he’s a boy trapped in a girl’s body and that's that. 

Thankfully, Ishmood has served and is still serving his main purpose, which is to be a merciless killer and eschewer of pests. His first kill was a cockroach, which was stridently placed on my flip flop. And we haven’t seen a single mouse since his arrival.

Rhythm 14 - The Smooth and the Rough

Anyone worth their salt knows that the words Sierra and Leone are synonymous with diamonds – blood diamonds, no less, as immortalised by Leone-ardo himself.

The irony of the phenomenonal volume of natural resources the country has is just how much (or little, as the case may be) people benefit from their discovery, sale and re-sale across the world. But that’s for another time.

On a recent field visit to Kenema and Kono districts, I was able to see the two sides of the diamond business in technicolour. This involved (a) visiting a diamond dealer shop in Kenema Township, and (b) observing the effect of mining on communities in both districts.

The dealer shop we were lucky enough to visit was named ‘Ameriken’ – which was either a clever play on words, a worrying typo (well, painto) by the sign maker or simply a rubbish name. I’m almost certain it was the latter, but you never know.

The Lebanese chap who owned the shop was more than happy to show us a variety of diamonds on his expensive-looking desk (which had Liverpool and Brazil football logo stickers affixed to it, tastefully). These ranged from one particularly attractive one worth $80,000 to a pile of around 100 small ones that would total $200. 

His knowledge was extensive, and mightily impressive, but he did squirm at a few questions that were asked in relation to the origin of his diamonds and expressed his micro-displeasure of the Kimberly process, that entails that all should be certificated in-country and declared on arrival at the country of disembarkation.

On the flipside, any journey to the east of the country isn’t complete without seeing the effects that are wrought by diamond (and any old, for that matter) mining. Along the main roads, you can actually see some of the small mines being mined by men, women and children. As well as that, you can’t escape without seeing at least 100 people carrying a mineral sieve – about dartboard size – slung over their shoulder. 

The absurdity of this situation can’t be lost on many people. If even half of the people mining tended to farms instead, this country could most likely feed itself and then some. Yet it simply doesn’t happen, as people chase their fortune by forlornly searching for something that could make their fortune for a while but not sustain them long-term. 

Seeing all of this firsthand takes some accepting, especially when the resultant (though clearly not the only reason for) poverty slaps you in the face as you traverse between villages and towns. It’s pretty stark, when you think about the end product of many of the diamonds – a sparkling engagement ring on a fiancés finger.

Rhythm 13 - Leone Stargazing

A few months ago now, we were lucky enough to secure tickets for the African Nations Cup Qualifier between Sierra Leone and the three-time defending champions Egypt, at the national stadium here in Freetown.

Getting into the stadium was an experience – a friend of ours had her ticket stolen just before entering but after some brinkmanship she got past the first line of security. It turned out the head ticket person at the gate wasn’t pleased with this, and promptly roughed her up and removed her from the stadium (we were able to get her back in, with some extra brinkmanship).

Prior to the game, the Leone Stars (as the national team is known here) were handily placed in their qualifying group but were underdogs before the kick off. Rather than give a self-indulgent match report, watch the video below for what happened:



That’s right, Sierra Leone beat Egypt with a last minute penalty. And the game featured a number of African football clichés – woeful pitch, searing heat and terrible goalkeeping mistakes. It was amazing.

As you can just about see in the video, policeman were actually dancing around the pitch – and thus leaving their post – when the penalty was given and subsequently scored by Mohamed ‘Poborsky’ Bangura (who recently transferred to Celtic). The video doesn’t feature the very brave streaker, in nothing but white briefs, who eluded policeman for about 30 seconds before being escorted from the fray.

The sheer elation of the moment when Poborsky scored the winner sent electricity across the whole stadium, yet also gave a glimpse of how things could get out of control so quickly here. When the final whistle blew, the crowd stormed the pitch and the stands erupted with fervent emotion. It was at that point where it seemed only right to exit, and enjoy a victorious walk home amidst car horns, whistles and flag waving.

I have been to a lot of sporting events, many of which had a lot more riding on them, and none of them compared to this.

Rhythm 12 – Copyright or Wrong?

The UK is no stranger to people flouting copyright laws. My first direct experience of this was one of my brother’s university flatmates who purposely bought a CD writer to copy albums and sell them to students unable to pay HMV or Our Price’s (remember them?) inflated tariffs. That was 1997.

Nowadays, of course, the market for copied DVDs and CDs has been supplanted by lay people indulging in illegal downloading – whether it be music, films, software, or even books. We have the power, should we have a broadband internet connection, to pay nothing for these commodities.

In Sierra Leone, it’s not quite the same sketch. Realistically, pretty much nobody has an internet connection capable of downloading files so large. And official music and film shops don’t really exist (I’ve never seen one that doesn’t sell copies). Therefore, the market for hawking films and music on the street, and even in stand-alone shops, has continued to flourish. Until recently.

In July, the Government introduced the 2011 Copyright Act that would potentially prevent any sales of copyrighted goods. The logic being that it protected the intellectual property rights of the artists. Having witnessed how the download era has affected the music industry in the UK, I recognise how difficult it is for musicians to make any money. There is clearly a similar issue within the music fraternity here.

On the day following the Act being passed, the streets were emptied of people whose livelihoods depend upon the sale of copyrighted goods, with the fear they’d potentially be picked up the Police, read the riot act and have their stock confiscated.

All of this begged the question of what merit there is of introducing a law that looks good in theory, but cuts of the lifeblood of so many young people in one of the poorest countries in the world?

The simple equation is that people would simply not listen to music outside of radio broadcasts, if it wasn’t unofficially produced and sold on the street. No longer would boys be able to tap on your vehicle window to entice you to by ‘Salone Mix 2011,’ ‘Reggae Classix,’ or the like.

Rhythm 11 – Sweet Love

Some readers may be aware of the phenomenon that is the Africa Mercy, a ship that rocks up along the coast of West Africa to deliver health care – well, major surgery – to those most in need but unable to pay for it. In Sierra Leone, health care is only free for pregnant women, lactating mothers and children under five years of age.

The ship is just one of Mercy Ships’ fleet that do the same thing across the developing world. It is truly amazing work that the Mercy Shippers do, donating their time and skills, and actually paying to be one of the crew. There are some creature comforts on board, however, the highlight/lowlight of which is an official Starbucks coffee outlet!

Given its ubiquitous status on the patchwork quilt of Freetowners thoughts, it should come as no surprise that we have made up a song about the Mercy Ship. A current hit in Salone is Busy Signal’s version of “Nightshift” – see below – to which we have amended the hook lyric to the following:

‘Gonna give you some sweet love...sweet love...on the Mercy Ship’

It doesn’t quite connect when it’s written down, but if you give it a go it does become quite addictive. I’m often singing it – either in my head or out loud – at my desk, walking down the street, or even when swimming. The true irony of the new lyric is that the Mercy Ships organisation is actually faith-based, and thus I’m not entirely sure we’d have their blessing (see what I did there) for the song becoming its anthem!

As you’d imagine, we are extremely intrigued about what it looks like inside – the health care bits as well as the living conditions – and have been trying to find a way of having a look around. It turns out that tantrums really do work sometimes, as after we showed our upset at missing out on a raffle prize of a guided tour at a fundraising quiz recently, someone from the ship caught wind of our predicament and actually offered us a tour with no strings attached. Get in.