Just your average early morning view in Cape Town taking the dog for a walk…(!)

Been stressing recently with my filming project and general workload and have been waking early to take the doggie for a walk up the local mountain as a way of at least starting the day on a calm note.  Took this pic yesterday on 1 of my walks…

It’s amazing how quickly the human condition becomes immune to natural beauty.  When I first came here I would spend most of my days just looking around in amazement at just how beautiful CT was… these days you just take it for granted but every now and again a scene is thrust in your face that still simply takes the breath away.. this pic (taken on an iphone) is also a reminder why I must always carry a decent camera with me here!

Introspection, shooting vid and the way forward….

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‘I spent more than half my life in hotel rooms alone. There is a loneliness with that, but when I come home, I sometimes feel even more lonely. Even though I am in their (my family’s) physical midst, it becomes so clear how I feel neglected. They are not asking any questions, it’s just like: “Oh, Dad’s home. Bye, I gotta go. I got a date,” or “I am gonna hang with friends,” or “I have a soccer game or a baseball game.”’

‘Photographing the World, Longing for Home.’ – Ed Kashi’s Reflections on his Photos – in Diaries and Letters. (NY Times 21/03/12)

Recently updating my website and going through my News Spot section I found myself slightly deflated by my own pics .

I have seen my pics enough times now to shield myself from the worst elements mentally – even though looking at them all again still makes me grimace from time to time.  It was actually mainly out of a sense of frustration at the limited nature of the work itself.  I have been asking myself some soul-searching questions recently – both on a deeper and more practical level and the one glaring, inescapable truth is that the type of work I have done will not sustain me for much longer.  When I did my photojournalism course at LCC in London I was motivated by 1 thing – and that was to go into war zones and the such and be that war photographer – Inspired by books such as Don McCullin’s ‘Unreasonable Behaviour’, Antony Lloyd’s ‘This War Gone By, I Miss it So’ and of course ‘The Bang Bang Club’ I craved to be shaken out of my North London existence and become – for lack of a better expression – a ‘Witness’ to world events.

A decade on and I’m def not so sure – Don’t want to dwell too long on the  personal side – but at 35 yrs of age – and wanting to settle again 1 day, all the traveling will eventually either put a strain on any relationship – or more likely – there won’t be 1 at all – I don’t want to be that 55 year old in Moggie or Sudan or Nigeria on his own – far, far away from any point of reference.  Apart from the loneliness it’s an extremely selfish and solipsistic way of life too.

Far more importantly – there just isn’t any money in news photography or photojournalism as a whole these days.  Shooting for news agencies in particular – esp as a stringer  – just isn’t worth it.

Tthe maths of shooting as a stringer just doesn’t make sense.  You have to pay all costs to a dangerous location (which is usually very expensive) not to mention satellite links etc – and all for US$60 per pub.  That’s crazy -and to be honest offensive. In terms of agencies and representation, apart from my Reuters stringer contract, I have recently re-signed a Getty contract and am signed to Polaris and AMO in SA.  But while that all sounds great on paper – I sometimes wonder what the real worth is – I get by on commissions and library sales in gen with the agencies )the rest comes from NGO/UN commissions).  I am in particular to expand library sales dramatically (Alamy is another great source that I am looking to in future) – but it will only ever bring in a certain level of income.  I don’t want to be struggling in later life and running around while spreading myself thin – both physically and emotionally – As a business model it simply doesn’t make much sense any more (I would love to hear from people who disagree though).

I def want to be on the creative end of work which is why I took on the Masterclass as a way to try and expand my reach into more long-term artistic/abstract photog. projects.

With the Masterclass, delving into the world of long-term book projects and gallery exhibs has begun to bare some fruit on a personal and technical level of understanding – I shot the above images mainly as an academic project, to explore the world of more abstract photography although grounded in more underlying socio-economic trends and issues.  They were shot in Mombasa on a housing estate and depict the hardship of life for the so-called African middle class.  Without running water and sparse electricity and other basic amenities, I wanted to see how African traditional life and the social nature of life on the Continent came to fill that vacuum left behind by the absence of municipal authorities to provide the most basic of services.

I must admit – while I am pleased enough with the results to put them up on my website, coming up with ideas and the actual shooting of such projects I have found hard.  I found myself when shooting this project constantly saying to myself – ‘what the hell am I doing?- I’m just wondering around an estate taking what feels like random pics.’

Coming very much and solidly from a journalistic background I immediately have a fundamental notion that if it ain’t newsworthy – it ain’t worth engaging.  Unfortunately – I chose the 1 medium in the world of journalism that doesn’t pay too well these days (though I hear some of my colleagues from other mediums bitching as much as me these days).  The career structure for photojournalism I find is more akin to that of acting than anything else in the journalistic world (ie a few minted people at the top and a mass of struggling morons below with no middle ground in between).

Which is where starting the filming and vid process comes in.  While the economics of short doccies at the mo ain’t too amazing they are def far better than photography – in the long-term I am certain it will get better (as fast broadband becomes the norm worldwide) but more importantly – the possibility it offers in terms of avenues to do those old news stories I have such a good grasp on I feel are a lot better than with photojournalism.

Technically I have also always considered my traditional strengths to be in straight visual story-telling.  I think creatively doccies are a better medium in a lot of ways for achieving this end (although some might disagree)…

Translating this though into actually shooting is a whole different story.  The learning curve has been steep.  At 35 it is a bit unsettling  to start out again to learn a new medium but it’s def been worth it.  I had a film-maker friend teach me the basics in terms of equipment and I feel pretty competent now at holding it all together on the shooting side (although my audio knowledge – outside of positioning the various mics and managing the different sound channels – is pretty much limited to making sure the green bar thingy doesn’t become a red bar thingy on the Zoom).

I have found large stumbling blocks along the way and am a bit nervous but feel almost ready to plunge in.  The largest problem has been my choice of subject for my first project.   Instead of opting for simple subject matter – like the eccentric fellow who owns the antique shop down the road – Me being me, I just couldn’t resist taking on a subject that has mushroomed into encompassing 2 large SA Government Departments, an assortment of NGO’s and high ranking officers in SAPS (South African Police Service).  While my friend who gave me a bit of tutoring is completely from the ‘let the script and structure grow organically’ school of doccie thought, given the largesse and gravity of the subject matter I am undertaking, I def don’t want to go down that route (as someone once said – it gets a lot more confusing once you start shooting anything).

I have been immersing myself in reading up about pre/post-shooting scripts, shot lists and paper edits etc at the mo (although I’m almost certain I’ll go in with a general pre-shooting script and develop it organically as I go along into a tight post-shooting script for the forthcoming vid project).  It has helped that I have rather randomly done a film script writing course with a Hollywood scriptwriter in the past (it’s a bit unnerving how the fundamental building blocks of fact and fictional film-making are so similar in many ways) but all the preparation in the world will almost def lead to problems at some point in the shoot.  I promised myself I’d make this blog as blunt and truthful as possible so please key in for my next installment probably titled – ‘How NOT to go about shooting a short doccie’ or ‘How to destroy your reputation in a new medium in 5 minutes.’

Overall – I have large insecurities for the road ahead – it’s such a different road from the well-trodden one of the past but a necessary change is required but it’s also exciting in many ways.  I guess as ex-South African President F W De Klerk once famously declared, you have to ‘adapt or die’ (or in my case ‘adapt or open a small coffee shop on a wind-swept beach in Cape Town engaging in banal conversation and looking out to sea forlornly for the rest of my life’…).

When it rains it pours…

Sitting on the side of the road only metres away from the dead body strewn across the road I could only shake nervously and light up another cigarette.  I hardly thought about my car which was still perched precariously on a very steep embankment on the side of the road.  I have seen dead bodies before but have never felt partly responsible for someone’s death.  It had been an accident and in all fairness hadn’t really been my fault – but I still couldn’t help feeling guilty.  I had been nervous driving again on this stretch of scenic coastal road near Mombasa.  It was a few clicks from the very spot I was sitting now that on 1^st January 2006 I had crashed and rolled my last Land Rover.

Driving back late at night to Mombasa after an enjoyable Christmas day with my ex and her family a truck had managed to crash and block the entire narrow road.  There was a line of cars waiting to get past.  Not wanting to be stuck til morning (for there is no real breakdown service in Kenya esp at midnight on Christmas day) I decided to assess whether it was possible to get my car past on the side of the road.  The road itself was on a steep embankment but after careful assessment I thought it was possible to go off-road and drive the 100m or so past the lorry and back  on to the road again.  The only problem was that the way down to the off-road track was a bit steep and not wanting to risk toppling the car over, I decided to take a safer route down about 20m back.  Unfortunately – from this spot – after descending down the hill, I realised I wasn’t able to pass and had to turn around.  Getting stuck on the last bit of the steep embankment back up a small lorry offered to tow me the last few metres back on to the road.  I insisted a few times on putting the tow rope around the O-ring attached to the chassis at the front of the car – but after a few attempts where they were not able to do so, the people towing me out decided – in all their great wisdom – to stick the tow cable around the bull bars.  I insisted this was not practical – but being late and being on my own – I didn’t insist too much and was too easily convinced that the few metres necessary to lift the car back on the road wouldn’t require too much of a pull.  Of course – the bull bar snapped and flung part of it across the road smashing a guy on the back of the head and instantly killing him.

It was relatively straight forward dealing with the police but to be honest it knocked the wind out of me for a while.

I had already been assessing the type of photography I do.  I have wanted to move away from the news-focused photography I normally do and focus more on long-term documentary type photographic projects.  I had been half-hearted about running to DRC already before I came down ill for a month that made a trip to Ug and South Sudan as well impossible to undertake.  I also began having misgivings about the car.  A few things had started to play up and I wasn’t convinced I could take her on my own into remote places.  I knew I would have to undertake the trip back home to SA but the roads down south are far better and thought I could do this relatively easily with no complications.

After spending the festive period in Mombasa shooting on a council estate for a long-term project I am undertaking partly for my Masterclass, I left myself with little time to get back to SA to catch a flight to Holland from Joburg for the masterclass a week later and I needed a few days in CT as well to sort myself out.  I headed on down at breakneck speed to SA making it to Malawi via Tanzania in a couple of days.  I was even thanking my lucky stars that after a 2 and a half hour queue at a petrol station in Lilongwe in Malawi I was able to get diesel fuel which was scarce in the entire country due to lack of forex in the country’s coffers.  I drove into Mozambique and the roads were surprisingly good.  Feeling lucky I decided to keep driving into the night on to Maputo.

‘It’s only 900 clicks from here.  Sure I can make that by first light.’

There is a game I like to play on my long drives that I call ‘famous last words’ where I catalogue all the things I think or say that with hindsight can only be described as complete idiocy bordering on lunacy.

The above thought has been neatly catalogued into the ‘classics’ section.

About a couple of hours down the road my battery light started flickering on and off.  I had just had the alternator replaced in Nairobi and it looked like the job hadn’t been done properly and either the alternator had packed in again or the bearings holding it in place had come loose going over the potholes in Mozambique, or the split charge system was at fault (turned out to be the bearings holding the alternator in place).

Having just started a night drive and needing lights it was a risk travelling with a battery that couldn’t charge up.  To be honest – there was nowhere to go back to anyway and the only option was to keep on going down the road.  At about 3am in the morning my battery finally gave up.  I had to crawl into the next town using a torch that I held out of the driver’s side window.  The car just made it into the next petrol station which was shut til morn before the car completely gave up.  With only the most superficial assurances for my safety from the guard there I slept in the cramped front compartment of my landie acting out my very own impression of the littlest hobo.

I must have dreamt I was back in my house in Cape Town because when I woke I had no idea what the guard with the dumb apologetic grin on his face lightly tapping on my window wanted – or where the hell I was or what I was doing for that matter.  It took me a few seconds to somewhat depressingly realise that I was actually sleeping in a broken car about 200km outside Maputo in a petrol station. After getting a half hour charge on my battery from a pick-up, I was back on the road.  I had to use as little battery as possible or I would lose the charge again.  Of course – on cue and heaven-sent – it began to pour down in a relentless and almost Biblical fashion.  I have never driven in rain like that before and of course sod’s law it happened the 1 time I couldn’t really use my wipers, or any lights…. and it didn’t let up until I got to 100 clicks from Durban in SA.

I got used to driving with as little lights and wipers as possible (which on African roads is a bit like playing Russian roulette with I guess a small element of skill involved.  You get to make out the blobs and vague lines after a while).  Even with minimum battery usage, I crawled into Maputo even though the battery cut twice again.  In the end, I chucked the secondary battery as the main (which still had charge) – something which I really didn’t want to do before I was well into South Africa as it was my last good battery and I really didn’t want to breakdown in the middle of nowhere in SA with a car full of expensive camera equipment – something that as anyone who lives in South Africa knows is far more likely to lead to problems than driving without wipers in Mozambique.

I made it to my friends’ farm just south of Durban though but took me a good 3 days to do a journey that should of taken me one.  Car is being fixed now and should be back in CT by end week.

It’s been a really eventful last couple of months.  But happy to be back in SA and looking forward to settling back down in CT for a while.  I don’t foresee doing another trip for a good while.  It looks likely I’ll be undertaking my first major video project which is all exciting and should keep me preoccupied in CT for the foreseeable future…but – knowing myself – I’m sure I’ll get the bug again soon and be back on the road not before too long!

Mental Health in Somalia

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Freelancing in Mogadishu and final thoughts on Somalia….

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Have been laid low with stomach bug and have been suffering with  severe back pains recently – I am beginning to feel the years marching on & the lifestyle is def taking its toll… I’ve had typhoid now twice in the last few years and thought I was on my way to a third – so a bit of self-prescribed R & R in Nai was in order in between preparing myself for my next trip to Uganda and South Sudan..

It gave me a bit of time to reflect on my fortnight in Mogadishu.  Wading through the pics I have been weighing up the pros and cons of going in as a freelancer.  It was certainly a very different experience from what I imagined. The first thing to note is the extremely controlled nature of working there and the tough conditions especially as a photographer to operate in.  Dis-embedding doesn’t make much of a difference either, although movements are a lot more flexible, being constantly surrounded by an entourage of armed guards severely restricts what is and is not possible and it doesn’t help in terms of putting your subjects at ease.

The time spent at any one place is also heavily restricted as – from a security perspective – it can attract unwanted attention.  While embedded and shooting on the front line for example I would literally get a few seconds to snatch a few pics before being quickly ushered on to the next point of interest or rather what was perceived to be the next point of interest. Even when dis-embedded, the problems were just as acute:  A story on mental health issues shot at a few clinics in the city was all done in the space of a few hours while constantly being ushered by a group of 7 or 8 armed guards.  Not that I am not appreciative.  The dangers in Moggie – while not as immediate as they were even a few months ago – are still ever-present.  Being unfamiliar with the territory – it is always better to be safe than sorry of course – but the burden, along with the constant time pressure, of always having to be aware of your guards and their movements and to co-ordinate with them all adds up to make taking pics and shooting a decent story extremely tough.  You do learn to adapt quickly though – while shooting portraits at the WFP-sponsored feeding centre for example – a gun went off not 10 metres away from where I was set up – an instant look at 1 of the armed guards – who didn’t even flinch – and I was instantly re-assured it was just a local guard firing in the air probably to try and control the overwhelming crowds… still – when you’re trying to use a studio light to take portraits and having to balance available light with flash – having a gun go off literally next to you isn’t the easiest of environments to work in…!

The second point to make is the problem of gathering relevant info and getting access to newsworthy images.  After the first week of my trip it became obvious that any pics that I could feed news wire services were going to be very difficult to come by.  Access to military engagements or casualties is extremely restricted as I have mentioned before.  It had always struck me as strange that such a relatively important issue as the changing fortunes in Somalia and the ongoing international, African-led mission which has seen massive gains in the past few months, have not been so widely reported and covered as other conflicts and international interventions have been.  Part of it of course is that in the West we only really care when ‘our boys’ are involved.  But that does not fully explain why Somalia – where the battle against Islamic extremism is second only to Afghanistan (and possibly Yemen) – has not been more widely reported.

A lot of it comes down to the fact that the African military contingents involved in the conflict are loathe to be seen in any way to be suffering from even the most minor of setbacks and try and keep journalists away from the action mostly as a precaution to what they might see or report.  The Kenyan mission in the South of the country is a great case in point.  Here the Kenyans have advanced all the way to the edges of Kismayo in the last few weeks – the last real Al-Shabaab stronghold in Somalia – but because of a blanket ban on access to the front line there has hardly been too much international coverage.  It is a shame in many ways – because – as I have said before – the bigger picture  – that of Africans solving their own problems in their own backyard where others have failed and with limited resources – is lost in the haze of conflicting information in the Somali conflict.  There is a general ‘Black Hawk Down Syndrome’ where everyone is keen to hide as much of their own suffering and casualties as possible in case it leads to a backlash back home or worse – among those funding the mission and pressure mounts for a withdrawal.  Such fears though seem misplaced – there is a strong general will in the region and among the Somali population to rid the country of Al-Shabaab and this completely overrides fears of the short-term pain and the backlash that may be unleashed by doing so.

In the fog of this war – the one truth is that there has already been a lot of suffering on all sides.  From the AMISOM soldiers on the ground, who with minimal military air and naval support have pushed forward to secure Mogadishu in extremely tough and hostile conditions and who undertake a tour of duty that lasts a minimum of a year – to the Somali population itself, the strain of the conflict is overwhelming and at times unbearable.

My personal contact with the local Somali population was restricted for reasons I have mentioned above – so it was an eye opener to visit the mental health clinics in Mogadishu.  It is estimated that over a third of the Somali population suffers from some form of mental health issue – by far the highest percentage in the world.  The never-ending conflict and recent famine has slowly taken its toll on the people and with no serious available resources, medical facilities are often overwhelmed by the flood of people requiring medical assistance.  The simple fact that there are only three psychiatric nurses in the entire country speaks volumes as to the scale of the problem.

Overall though I came away with the distinct impression that the situation is improving slowly but surely in Somalia (albeit from a very low starting point).  There is a general will on all sides to rid the country once and for all of Al-Shabaab.

More than anything else what will help in the future is the increasing amount of business – esp in Mogadishu.  One of the most positive influences on Somalia’s future is the wealthy and successful Somali diaspora.  They seem keen to come back en masse if the country were to stabilise.  They have kept Somalia going through the most difficult years with remittances said to be in the region of US$1 billion per year.  And with the return of security to the capital, they have already started to pour money into the country as witnessed in the flourishing small businesses in Mogadishu itself.  With the return of business – whatever happens in the highly unstable political arena of the country – an extremely war-weary general population will do everything and anything to make sure security and peace prevails.

So – is it worth freelancing in Mogadishu as things stand?  It was an extremely long and hard 2 weeks but I’ve come away with three solid photo stories that I will begin to market in the next few weeks.  I have already sold a handful of images to Canadian and European media outlets and might have a couple of my portraits from the WFP-sponsored feeding centre up at a UN exhibition in Vienna and Geneva.  The trip will pay itself over the next few months and some of the work will add a lot in terms of depth and strength to my general portfolio.  For all the restrictions and problems, it was def worth the time (illness!) and expense.

Portrait series from WFP sponsored feeding centre in Mogadishu

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To Embed or not to Embed in Mogadishu

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First days in Mogadishu have been frustrating to say the least.  While the re-assuring security blanket that comes with staying within the highly fortified compound of AMISOM headquarters def helps you sleep better at night, the constant restrictions on movements has been a major source of annoyance.

While I have already got some decent material of Ugandan AMISOM troops (I even managed to bring a studio light to try and do some strong portraits of the troops), there have been 3 suicide bombings in the city outside the confines of the compound but have been unable to get to them as getting out on short notice has been nigh on impossible.

Even getting clearance to join an AMISOM convoy to sensitive areas like the frontline now where Burundian AMISOM troops have been fiercely engaging Al-Shabab in its last stronghold in the city, Daynille, has been a Kafkaesque task that makes anything out of Catch 22 look like a simple bureaucratic procedure.

As a public relations exercise the restrictions set in place by AMISOM actually end up being counter-productive.  A case in point is the restrictions placed on access to casualties.  In general AMISOM is very sensitive about casualties and try their best to keep journos away. But by doing so – the restrictions themselves become the story rather than the much more important fact that AMISOM troops have been fighting bravely here and in unbelievably tough conditions.  Take the recent images released by Al-Shabab that purportedly showed 70 Burundian troops that were killed in the ongoing clashes in Daynille.  When Paddy Ankunda – the very likeable press spokesperson for AMISOM countered that in fact only 10 had died at the time (and 2 were missing), the international press widely reported this figure with a pinch of salt.  Suddenly AMISOM intransigence becomes the story rather than the far more important fact of the herculian efforts being made to take the rest of Mogadishu.

A member of UNSOA who works at the military hospital and is closely linked to dealing with casualties coming in from the frontline has confirmed that Paddy Ankunda’s figures are in fact close to the mark.  There have now been 16 deaths and 46 injuries from the ongoing clashes.  By trying to deny journalists access to the casualties it makes it harder to believe either side – even if the figures released by the AMISOM press spokesman were probably true at the time they were released.

In my opinion – there is no more powerful method of getting the message across of the hell the AMISOM soldiers have been going through and to get this far against Al-Shabab than by being open about casualties and allowing access to the frontline even during ongoing operations.  And on that front, I can testify to the courage and bravery the troops have shown here.  They have achieved something that was even unattainable by the Americans back in 1993 (and of course made infamous by the film Black Hawk Down) and secured the city – while also being careful not to inflict too many civilian casualties and therefore gaining the respect and support of the local Somali population.  And in Somalia gaining local support is absolutely crucial – one of the main reasons that Al-Shabab has lost ground recently is because of its loss of popular support (if there was any even to begin with).  In Somalia – as with Afghainstan – it is the people who decide who stays and who goes ultimately – one way or another.

I managed to get access to the military hospital yesterday through my UNSOA contact and have finally convinced AMISOM to let me up to the frontline during ongoing operations today (if all goes well – and a lot can still go wrong).  I have also decided to dis-embed for a day on Monday with a colleague and staying (along with Al-Jazeera and a couple of Swedish journalists) outside the confines of the compound.  After a frustrating week, I look forward to trading a bit of security for more freedom of movement to see the broken capital here without an AMISOM filter.

first day in Moggie…

Getting on a flight at the small but respectable international airport in Nairobi for Somalia I was surprised by how orderly the whole experience seemed to be.  There was no evidence of the mayhem and anarchy that awaited at the final destination… I was even thrown a bit that the African Express plane was a 737 jet and not some dodgy old propeller plane and even had a basic steward service.  Was this the right flight?   Had I inadvertently boarded the wrong plane to some safe destination?

The veil of normality wasn’t to last for long though.  Halfway through the speciously uneventful flight I started hearing a raised voice from the back.  It got more and more frequent and when I turned around I saw a tall Somali getting increasingly vexed with an older Somali lady.  I am naturally scared of flying as I have said before… so when he started running up and down the aisle I got to say I could feel the blood draining not just from my face but from my entire body.  Even the other Somalis on the flight started getting worried and some even went back to sit by the emergency exit where the crazed 6 foot giant seemed to be spending a worrying amount of time by.  I had no idea what the argument was about and I didn’t want to know I just wanted it to land so I could get the hell off – even if by all accounts hell was where I was going.  Landing went without a hitch but again – just when confidence was returning, the pilot, for god knows what reason – braked so hard towards the end of the taxi run that everyone who had already got up and started getting luggage flew forward 2 feet and fell flat on their faces.  The airport terminal (or rather the single large tall box room with cracks and holes in the walls and ceiling from bomb damage) was a chaotic mess – even the simple visa application form – usually a mundane bureaucratic annoyance – seemed straight forward enough with questions about personal details and passport – until you got to the last question asking ‘What weapons have you brought with you?’ – replete with sub-questions about type, trademark, serial number and calibre of the weapon brought!

I have spent the first day inside the AMISOM base waiting for clearances to spend a couple of nights at one of the forward AMISOM posts near the frontline between AMISOM forces and al-shabab militia towards the northern outskirts of the city.  The base has that other-worldly feel to it – where normality reigns and with only a slight incline of what might be going on beyond the secure compound.  Sitting in the bar area you could easily think you were at a Lonely Planet favorite camping lodge…

AMISOM forces seem to be getting the upper hand in the fighting here.  I have been told that not 1 year ago you could here nearby mortar explosions and small arms fire whizzing overhead at the base – but as the forces have slowly pushed back al-shabab some semblance of normality seems to be returning to much of the city.  With Kenyan forces now entering to the south of the country and plans for further pushes by AMISOM forces outside Mogadishu – there is finally some hope that Somalia might be beginning to win the battle here – but with a weak UN-backed Somali government crippled by in-fighting and corruption and with the country in the throes of one of the worst droughts to hit the region in living memory – one should not hold ones breathe.

An African proverb to brighten a dull day…

Nairobi can be a nightmare.  Polluted (feel like I’m smoking a packet a day again), congested (2 hours to do a 10 mile journey) and unfriendly… but in the midst of all the chaos there is always something to bring a smile to the face and redeem the day!

quick update from the Lusaka Times…

…Just as a footnote to my last post – it’s official that the ECZ head, Justice Irene Mambilima was pressured by the last govt not to announce election results when it became clear they would lose – something that would have almost def triggered a bloodbath in Zambia…quote taken from the Lusaka Times online…

Electoral Commission of Zambia chairperson Irene Mambilima threatened to resign on Thursday prior to the announcement of the election results.

ECZ sources have told QFM that some former ruling MMD officials were pressurizing the ECZ chairperson not to announce the election results.

Some MMD officials are said to have pressurized Justice Mambilima not to announce the election results when it became clear that the former ruling party was losing the elections.

The MMD camp was broken following the defeat in the presidential election which has left the former party in pieces, with its future bleak.