One important piece of the puzzle is the postcolonial failure. The drastic transition from being subjected by a foreign power to becoming a responsible, independent nation. What follows is the conflict between tradition and modernity, corruption and hunger. A mindboggling difference between rich and poor as a consequence of Bokassa’s regime.
He was the dictator who, in 1977, crowned himself emperor—an event that cost 22 million dollars. At that point The Central African Republic lay in ruins. Bokassa had been president for a number of years, and he’d drained the state’s coffers: the school system was in tatters, the child mortality rate was high, and corruption permeated society. The only functioning institutions were the military and the president’s flotilla of vehicles. Bokassa, a former sergeant in the French army who had never really gone to school, installed his 17 wives throughout the capital city. He visited them many times each day, and his convoy would put the entire city on standby. The women came from all over the world. A Swede was among them, a Vietnamese, a Rumanian and a number of women from African countries. In total, they gave birth to his 55 children.
France supported Bokassa’s crowning. They needed him and the country’s resources. Many high-level authorities in the French administration had, through the years, enjoyed the despot’s extravagance. The dictator had instituted hunting clubs, and he lavished gifts with a generous hand. It was in this way that president Valéry Giscard d’Estaing (France’s president from 1974-81) was given a game reserve for his own disposal, where it is said that he shot more than 50 elephants and an untold number of other animals. Bokassa was even more generous with diamonds, which found their way to the right European pockets. A small gift for the wife. In all modesty. Merci…
But when the regime beat down a student uprising—with, it is said, Bokassa himself participating—the country had had enough. Scores of students and teachers lost their lives in basements. Among them was the mathematics teacher who was later found in the freezer, who was doubly unlucky, since he was also eaten.
Only two months after his extravagant crowning, France, facing the tremendous pressure of public criticism in Europe, sent troops into the country to oust the madman.
And this is how the misery has continued ever since. Every now and then, the former colonial power intervenes, officially to assist the beleaguered population, but unofficially to protect its economic and political interests in the region. Today, trucks loaded with military supplies from the Cameroon port city of Douala cross the country toward the border, toward the war. The armored tanks and the camouflaged Jeeps all bear the Tricolor.
Here, people are convinced that it’s the only justified course of action. I try to discuss the responsibility of the local residents, but most reject this by referring to the colonial past. The international community and Europe, they believe, will have to sort it out.
By coincidence I share a hotel with a man from Mali who turns out to be the new director of the region for UNHCR. He assumes his new job this month, he says, when the current director shifts to Chad.
He has a different opinion. We eat breakfast together. At one point he asks:
“How come Africa is the only continent in the world that hasn’t learned to live in peace? Fifty years have passed since decolonization, and we’re self-destructing. Why? We have everything. All the natural resources, wood, agricultural land—but we can never reach accord.â€
Neither of us has an answer. He’s of the opinion that Africa ought to take responsibility for itself. That Africans should no longer use the colonial past to explain the present, but should act independently to limit the number of conflicts and wars.
*
In the refugee camp Guiwa 31 miles from the city, people say very little. They just wait. They follow the news and stay prepared. They dress in western clothes, and some are well educated. The eldest man in the camp looks like a university professor; he extends his hand in front of his house, which is made of tarpaulins.
“Nothing new. The situation hasn’t changed,†he says. Apart from the increasing number of dead. We all know that.
A young man approaches me and asks me to come with him. He would like to show me his home, his wife and his children. He pushes the tarp to the side, and I look into their 32-square foot residence.
They sleep on blankets that lie directly on the ground. There’s nothing else in the room. There’s a little nook to one side—the kitchen. His wife and children sit inside. The children play. The family hopes for better times. I ask about their health, and would like to know more about their work, their lives and family, but Hamdiata has grown impatient. He wants to go home now, before it gets dark. I say farewell to them.
“Will you return?†the man asks.
“I would like to,†I say. I hope so. I wave and walk to the car. At the car I get a view of the activity beside the well. They are city dwellers. They don’t like me taking pictures.
This isn’t their life. Not at all.
Peder Frederik Jensen (b. 1978) is a Danish writer born in Copenhagen. He has attended Forfatterskolen, the Danish School of Writers, and made his debut in 2007 with the novel ‘Her stÃ¥r du (You’re Standing Here)’ (Samleren). He is a trained boat-builder and has collaborated with other young authors for the Danish magazine for the homeless, ‘Hus forbi’. In 2009 he founded the literary magazine Morgenrøde.dk with three other authors. Peder Frederik Jensen received Albert Dams Mindelegat in 2012 for his work.
K.E. Semmel is a writer and translator whose work has appeared in The Washington Post, World Literature Today, ‘Best European Fiction 2011’, and elsewhere. His translations include Karin Fossum’s ‘The Caller’, Jussi Adler Olsen’s ‘The Absent One’, Erik Valeur’s ‘The Seventh Child’ and, forthcoming in 2015, Naja Marie Aidt’s ‘Rock, Paper, Scissors’.
This article was previously published as ‘Det her er ikke deres normale liv, slet ikke’ in the Danish newspaper Information on January 5, 2014. Click here to read the original text (in Danish).
