Journey through the heart of darkness

 

A review of Crossing the Congo by Mike Martin, Chloe Baker and Charlie Hatch-Barnwell, Hurst and Company, London, 2016.

First, a disclaimer; I drove across the northern half of the Congo in 1970. Roads were bad. We got stuck, had breakdowns, had to scrounge for spares, got arrested suspected of being mercenaries, got sick, got badgered by erstwhile officials. However, we found the people curious, friendly, and generally willing to help. Our trip some 43 years before team Mike, Chloe and Charlie’s undertaking was a walk in the park in comparison. Theirs was horrendous.

The saga told in this book began in London, followed by a long meander through West Africa.  Instead of retracing their route homeward, Mike and Chloe decided to circle down through the Congo and back up north to South Sudan, a journey of 2500 miles. They enlisted a friend, Charlie whose wonderful photographs fill the book and provide visual proof of their trials.  The three canvassed Kinshasa for permits, permissions, and advice. They also endeavored to put their old short wheelbase Land Rover into good enough shape for the trip. (We also drove a similar vehicle in 1970, but ours was in much better condition.) The Congo three barely get a passing grade for vehicle astuteness. Yes, they finally got through, but mostly on luck, not vehicle prowess.  However, whenever they broke down, which was almost daily, they jury rigged a part or just duck taped it back together until a better repair could be made.

Roads were the worst physical problem. They headed first to Kananga, southeast of Kinshasa but the road was destroyed and rutted by huge mining trucks and impassable for regular vehicles.  Then, they tackled the south/north route from Kananga straight to Kisangani 800 miles across the heart of the Congo basin rainforest, a route which had not been traversed by a vehicle in a decade. Because of war and neglect, the road essentially had retreated into jungle - bridges had given way, ferries non-existent, trees fallen across the path. Often the land rover had to be dug or dragged out of mud holes.  The team reinforced stream crossings and even built a raft to cross a river.  The physical effort was enormous and took a toll.

Worse, however, than an unreliable vehicle and abominable roads were the suspicions, harassments and negative attitudes from Congolese, especially those in authority.  Everyone assumed that three foreigners were chickens ripe for plucking.  There were interminable checks of papers and intentions.  No official could believe the three just wanted to drive through.  Congolese society was so corrupt for so long that there was sheer disbelief that the three were not on some nefarious mission. At one point a “big man” had trees felled across the road to impede their progress.  Even Congolese Catholic priests tried to price gouge them. Similarly, the crowds of people the three drew would pilfer as soon as a back was turned.  Occasionally, however, an individual or two would be genuinely helpful, but that was the welcome exception rather than the rule.

This book is beautifully written – mostly by Mike – and lavishly illustrated by Charlie’s photos.  It provides the detail of the difficulties alluded to above. It is indeed a sad commentary that the Congo has regressed so much both in terms of physical infrastructure and human kindness and courtesy in the past fifty years. Indeed, the Congo today is a sad, neglected, desperate place.  Big kudos to the three for their journey through the heart of darkness.