Brazzaville Charms

Once, and only once, I met a tourist!

I began reading Brazzaville Charms: Magic and Rebellion in the Republic of Congo by Cassie Knight and found her observations to be rather astute. The book was published in 2007, and the average life expectancy for a Congolese citizen that she cited was 48 years. According to the U.S. Department of State website, the life expectancy in 2009 was estimated at 54.15 years.

The space between life and death is so fragile: innocent men had been killed, and Jacques had survived. People in Congo can be eliminated if they are seen as a threat. Jacques had escaped, but he lived with the knowledge that his cold-blooded government decided whether he breathed from one day to the next (p. 27).

When I told my students about being man-handled by a soldier in the president’s Republican Guard, this was one student’s response: “Don’t breathe wrong when the president is passing by or his soldiers will shoot you, and they will leave you there in the street.”

Congo is well and truly off the beaten path. A few aid workers make it here and even fewer journalists. Once I met a tourist, and it was rather in unfortunate circumstances (p. 28).

I have never met a tourist in the streets of Brazzaville. Nearly every French, Australian, American, South African I meet who isn't a missionary or NGO worker is in the country to extract money, in one way or another, from the already impoverished and exhausted population suffering under political leadership that simply doesn’t care. Oilmen, construction company CEOs, or foreign timber business representatives – they are all enriching the elite and privileged Congolese micro-minority who spend half their year in posh Paris homes squandering kickbacks and beer money on a grand scale, so grand I should call it champagne money. Who has a conscience intact? Perhaps scruples never existed in the first place. It’s all about nepotism and connections here in the Congo.

There are widespread feelings of frustration and injustice in Brazzaville, and yet people have no way to channel their feelings into protest or pressure for change. The Congolese people are powerless to change how their country is run at the highest levels. Democracy is a charade, and the government is utterly unaccountable (p. 35-36). Despite this sad fact, "Women can wiggle their bottoms in time to the music in Congo like nowhere else" (p. 37).