ANNOUNCEMENT 1 :
NEW BOOK SOON
ABOUT HEINZ RAINER VIDEOS
NIANI BLUE BLOG
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Today we announce the oncoming launch of our new book on kindle.
The theme of the book is thirty-five-years in Africa, it s ups and downs and perils. It is all written in plain language, as it was as it happened. For English readers I wish to announce that this version is written in german language, and the English version will be published later.
At present our Amazon account is not accessible, due to some unknown reason, we have taken up the issue with Amazon.
Below are some of the sequences occured during our travels in Africa.
We hope that you will enjoy reading the book,
with best wishes
Heinz Rainer
I will publish more articles to give more details about this and other events.
Looking back I find it almost unrealistic - comparing the western world with the dark ages that still exist in some parts of the dark continent. Where armed robberies are common, were one is never sure to wake up the next morning.
Mandiana to Niani - Night in the Savanna of Mali
(journey of a lifetime)
From journey 's undertaken in Africa., I have not fully written about all journeys undertaken on the black continent. This is a first report from Africa, in particular a journey I undertook by car from Ghana to Ivory Coast, Guinea, Mali and Burkina Faso. The trip took 4 weeks over a distance of 5000 km through tough terrain and territory
Guinea Border, Gbapleu -
A Meeting In No Man's Land
May 03, 2007
last
Ivorian Army Post, region of Man, Ivory Coast to Guinea Border
Following
morning I am up, as usual before dawn. The captain and his Army command
awaits me and assists me inspecting my car. It looks like it has been
swallowed by a mud hole, there isn't a single spot that has not got the
distinctive, red color of the jungle soil on it. The soldiers must have
seen my worried look, and they quickly proceed to fetch some water in
the nearby jungle creek.
My biggest concern is the
engine, it is covered by mud, the whole of it. I wonder how we made it
through last night's carnage.
While
the soldiers are giving the car a rinse, we receive a visitor. When I
arrived the night before, I hadn't the slightest idea where I was, or
how far the border with Guinea would be. Now, I can see through the
morning mist, we are just 300 meters from the physical border post that
separates the two countries, Ivory Coast and Guinea. I meet a new
soldier and I am told he is a Guinean border guard. Nor do I notice the
reason for his arrival, thinking it is a social visit.
Finally
I
thank the Captain of the Ivorian Army for the hospitality shown and
press to leave, a long way lays ahead of us. We start our vehicle, and
commence our journey once more.
The border is
separated by a
barrier, and when we arrive a grumpy Gendarme appears, a hostile
appearance, we begin to guess what lay ahead of us.In stark contrast to
the Ivorians, who showed politeness, hospitality, the Guineans show the
exact opposite.
Encounter at Dusk,
Odienne, Ivory Coast
Realizing
that we are in Sekou Toure's country of terror, although now his former
security chief runs the affairs, we enter the mouth of the dragon.
Never before have I met such a open displayed hostile display of hatred
.
We
are to produce our papers, passport, licence, permits, the whole lot.
The first official is a blue uniformed Policeman and we are being
questioned our motives for coming here, everything they want to know.
Only when we bring out our last trump card, our connection with the
President's office, suddenly their grim asses turn into forced smiles.
They are expecting to make a kill from the foreigner. To suck his
blood, to drain his resources.
Bribes, extortion are
the key
words here, in spite of regularity in our papers. I have flown to
Guinea several times before to the capital Conakry, but now I am on the
jungle border, far away from civilization.
It takes one hour
before
I finally make it out of the Police office, totally exhausted. Tired of
the interrogation, tired of the country and people, tired with myself
for bringing me into this hellhole in the first place. But, it has not
finished yet, as when things start to go wrong, they can all go wrong,
and this is my day. Thinking I have completed the formalities, an Entry
stamp in my passport, only to be told to visit the other side of the
road, and pointed to a run down shack on the hill adjacent to the
station. This, as it turns out is the main office of the Gendarmerie
Commander of the border Guard.
I wait for half an hour in the
office, a meager chair and table in the room, no additional furniture.
I wonder, how many before me have been subjected to this degrading,
taunting procedure.
Guinea Forestiere
The
Monsieur Commandant takes his time before he appears, and I will never
forget his grimace as long as I live, so help me god. When he enters
the room, the assistant hands over the passport to him and disappears.
Not one word spoken, the colossal stature finally sits down, grabbing
the passports and opens them to look at the visa. Still he has not
spoken a word. His face is the most horrible, gruesome, Killer looking
mask I have ever encountered. A savage pantomime with a huge, broad
nose, and a skull with retracting forehead that I can not but let my
mind wander to Charles Darwin's theories, even under the circumstances
I am in. For here, in the middle of the rainforest, the law is in his
hand, and he knows it and lets us feel his supremacy, with every
second, minute that passes.
Finally, after taking 10
minutes to
study my visa, and noticing my previous Visas for Guinea, he utters his
first words.in French. It does not sound good, as I expected. He simply
put it to me, that I have to return back, through the mud and the
hellish road, twelve hours for 40 km's through the forest, and nearly
3000 km to get back home. I shudder at the thought.
The
air is
tense, my patience is wearing off, but I know this is what he is
waiting for. He will take it all from me, my pride, my dignity, my
money, the whole lot. Only to wait for a mistake, and he is the King of
the jungle. I force myself to be calm instead, to squeeze out a smile,
propose how to get around this obstacle. He is insisting that my Visa
is invalid. And who will proof him wrong, here. I take a deep breath,
sigh and start to draw all my diplomacy skills I have learned in 20
years plus living in these parts of the world.
Explaining
the
difficulties of getting here, the previous night, the breakdowns. All
have zero effect. He does not move one fraction from his opposition to
me continuing my journey. Throughout this tense moments I know, all he
is negotiating for, is a bribe, money. But, it was not time yet, the
ice had to be broken, you either make it or you break it, depending on
your survival skills.
When it comes to my companions
who are
natives, they are trying as hard to speak in his dialect, to convince
him, to soften him. They don't want me to say much, because he is a
racist, and he hates white people, it has become apparent. We have
entered the third hour, and his stance is stubbornly negative, he wants
to show this white victim, that he is superior. My companions have not
proceeded to flash the last card, the trump up our sleeves. We were
warned by the Presidential offices, the seat of the government about
such incidents. They know their people, they know where they come from.
Gendarmes posted in these remote parts normally have a history, a dark
secret. The notorious Torture Camp in Conakry was filled with beasts of
officers who killed, tortured thousands of people during Sekou Toure's
reign of terror. Trained by the East Germans, KGB, and Chinese secret
services, these individuals had no emotions.
After
the death of
Sekou Toure's, the camp was liberated and the officers
transferred, the farther the better. Now, I was facing such a character
opposite me. No normal Policeman acts in such a way, with open
hostility, all his frustrations and hatred pointed at me because he dos
not like me.
In the middle of all this he gets up, speaks no
word
and disappears, leaving us alone in the office, with no result in
sight. It is then I am cautioned not to speak any bad word, and keep my
calm. We decide to change our tactics now, as things could get out of
hands. A concise ability to evaluate situations is one of my major
advantages, and I am now ready to go for it.
By the
time he
appears again, after thirty minutes, the questions are changing, now
directed at my companions, and this will change the outcome finally. My
companion's family are well to do citizens in Conakry, with far
reaching influence in all social and governmental circles. A Doctor of
Medicine, Madame Bangoura is the head of the governmental AIDS campaign
and heads the Medical research, with all its responsibilities. Her
offspring sitting near me, never mentioning this fact till the right
moment comes. And this is the ice breaker, the threshold has been
reached, his voice has thawed up, he speaks softer now. Because he
understands that will not succeed with his original plan. Now, a change
of tactics is necessary, and it comes in form of a proposal of how much
I am willing to pay for a new Visa.
The 'Visa' costs
.25000
C.F.A. Francs , a mere 10 U.S. Dollars. It is not the Visa, it is a
bribe. And when we agree to pay we see a transformation that leaves in
me an impression never to go away. His grimasses turn to an ape like
grin, with his large mouth showing his huge fangs. he begins to talk,
as if nothing has happened, nothing ever was wrong, no time has been
wasted. He even offers me to visit him in his Bungalow up the hill,
from where he forced himself down to see his victims. I am disgusted,
but I manage a smile. And I promise to visit him next time I pass by
here. Needless to say that next time will never come.
We
leave,
tired, confused, and now it is the Customs department that expects us.
We finish quickly, pass through we claim we have no money on us, not
mentioning my ten thousand Dollars in my back pillow. So, finally after
three and half hours, we are on our way. Getting close to lunch time, I
don't feel the urge to eat. I will find some Bananas on the way, a safe
way of keeping your bowels intact in such locations. Finally, when we
leave we are stopped by some unidentifiable official with the same
beige customs outfit, and I am told by my companions to carry on, not
to stop. Another attempt to extort money from me.
The
road ahead
is still long, and leads me to a further unknown destiny, the town of
Nzerekore. But before that, we face more difficulties, for there is no
safe passage in Guinea.
Next : On the road to
Nzerekore,
Excerpts from a journey to the unknown, by Heinz
Rainer .
Kindia Guinea
We
need to see the full story in order to be able to fully understand the
meaning of it. I wrote some of the events in ezinearticles
and
some of them in wordpress .
When the time is right I will
publish more articles to give more details about this and other events.
Looking
back I find it almost unrealistic - comparing the wester world with the
dark ages that still exist in some parts of the dark continent. Where
armed robberies are common, were one is never sure to wake up the next
morning.
This is the beginning : NIANI
http://africasiaeuro.com/images/ig_
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