So This Is Congo

The Democratic Republic of Congo. It’s always a bit suspect when countries feel the need to declare their democracy in their name. I’ll save the history lesson on Congolese elective government for another post. But here I was, in Lubumbashi, the capital of the mining province—Katanga—which flirted with independence in the early sixties.

A last minute assignment had brought me here, solo, instead of up in the Kivus with a good friend & colleague, as I’d planned. Cue some very last minute—and frenetic—reading about this city that I hitherto knew nothing about. (“Lubum’-where?” I seem to remember replying, on the phone.) Copper, Belgians and Moise Tshombe seemed to sum it up. And the odd spot of strife several weeks previously, as supporters for, and against, the incumbent president, Joseph Kabila, clashed in the streets, choosing violence over votes.

My arrival proved less, expensive, than I expected. Most of what I heard about working in the Congo was bureaucracy and bribes, the latter causing my wallet to overflow with small denominations of US dollars. (Most other places don’t like anything but crisp 100’s to change.) Despite a small disagreement about the validity of my Nairobi-issued visa (I’m not a resident of Kenya), the reams of official, stamped paperwork I poured over the immigration official seemed to satisfy him, rather than kito kidogo greasing his palm.

Campaigning for the elections ends tomorrow, and the streets are a-blast with speakers mounted on trucks blaring out slogans in Kiswahili and French. Lubumbashi has over 500 parliamentary hopefuls, vying for just 13 seats; André Kalonzo was one of them, and stood on a side-street in the city centre handing out photocopies of his campaign poster.

Every wall in the city seems to be smothered in posters for men and women like André, complete with the page number of their name on the ballot. (I dread to think how much the printing of ballot papers cost, with over 32 million voters registered. So far, I’ve seen posters going up to “page 19”.)

Under a small arcade leading from the main square, men huddle around newsboys hawking photocopies of news articles printed off the internet. Headlines from international publications such as Jeune Afrique all talk of Kabila or Tshesekedi, the main opposition candidate. Who said print media was dead?

Now all I need is Kenya Airways to find my bag. Batteries are running low, and I am without power-cord and pyjamas.

A morning of few surprises

A morning of few surprises

Making a tour of voting centre this morning, the day after polls closed in South Sudan’s independence referendum, sheets of paper announced the counts of each station.

I was surprised at how fast, and efficient, the process had been.

In my local voting centre, over 95% of cast ballots were for independence. Out of 1915 papers in the urn, only 82 were marked for unity.

If this trend continues elsewhere throughout the country, South Sudan will be decidedly independent on July 9th.

Voting Closes for Independence

It has been a long week in Juba this week, covering South Sudan’s historic voting in their independence referendum. From the jubilant celebrations as voting opened, to the empty voting centres that characterised the last few days.

The ballot boxes were sealed for the final time, and locked away as staff took some repose as the heavy sun set. Armed police guarded the container where they rested, before being brought out under electric light, and tipped open onto the counting tables amid much protocol.

From where we stood behind a small cordon, the ballots seemed to be ubiquitously marked with a thumb-print next to the open-palm symbol of secession.

The Long Tail

The Long Tail

As the week of voting in South Sudan’s independence referendum drags through to the fifth day, Juba seems to become increasingly ambivalent to the whole affair. The ninth of January was their day, when voting began amid emphatic celebrations.

Whilst a week is needed for voting in many of the rural areas, whose population makes up much of the state, the voting centres of Juba emptied out, with only a trickle of people voting every day.

Motivational Speaking

Motivational Speaking

“Every vote counts,” announce billboards around Juba, “if you have registered, make sure you go to vote”. There is no doubt in Southern Sudan that of those that vote, many more than the required 50% + 1 will opt for secession. There was some concern surrounding a clause in the peace agreement stipulating that over 60% of those registered must turn-out, but by mid-week, the ruling party had announced that the turn-out had already been reached.

For members of “My Referendum for Freedom”, an organisation originally started by a member of the south Sudan diaspora in Australia, getting people to vote meant much more than just a clause in an agreement: this was their chance to determine their future.

During the week of voting, these volunteers climbed into the back of pick-up trucks, armed with a microphone and loudspeakers, exclaiming to people that if they are registered, they should exercise their right to vote, and voice their opinion. They organised buses to transport people from remote communities to polling stations, believing that a truly democratic vote should not be influenced by people’s means to pay for long journeys.