Near Death in the Desert

 

A review of Skeletons on the Zahara – a true story of survival by Dean King, Back Bay Books, 2004.

 

Not for the squeamish!  Unfortunately, I read this book during the Christmas holiday season when comfort and plenty sustained me.  It was a stark contrast to the squalor, deprivation, and cruelty suffered by the victims of an 1815 shipwreck on Africa’s Atlantic coast. The crew were enslaved and held for ransom by local tribesmen.

The facts of the event were drawn from bestselling accounts written by Captain James Riley of the sailing ship Commerce and one of his crewmen Archie Robbins.  Due to currents, winds, and poor navigation, the ship ran aground off Cape Barbas, in what today is Western Sahara.  The men all made it ashore where they were savaged and captured by local tribesmen. The tribes of that era were Islamic. They hated and feared white Christians, whom they deemed sub-human.  The crewmen were outnumbered and without weapons. To survive they had to comply.   This they did. The narrative describes the ravages of hunger and thirst, of beatings, neglect and deliberate cruelty.   The reader will learn a lot about the human body’s physical ability to persevere. That plus strong mental determination to live sustained the crewmen during their ordeal.

The book is replete with information about the tribes who captured the crew, about their own lives of privation.  The western Sahara (spelled Zahara in the title in recognition of the spelling used in 1815) was a bleak landscape of hard rock, sand and occasional scrub. Water was rare.  This part of the Sahara was probably the most challenging for human life on the planet.  The tribes were nomadic. They relied totally on camels. (A reader will glean more information than necessary about camels.) The tribal culture was dominated by men. The families displayed an astonishing hospitality towards each other, but not to foreign Christians, whom they demeaned, brutalized and starved.

Ultimately, Captain Riley cut a deal with a tribesman to pay a ransom when he and his men were delivered to freedom in Morrocco.  There was much reneging, renegotiating, violence and intrigue as the crew – still slaves – was marched north to safety.  Robbins, who had been separated from his fellows early on, followed a sperate path towards freedom a year or so later.

This is a book about survival.  It is a remarkable testament to the fortitude of individuals who sustained themselves in very trying circumstances.  The book also accurately portrays Northwest Africa of the epoch – its geography, its peoples and its cultures.  One cannot help but wonder how much of the culture lingers on in modern Western Sahara.   

Peace Corps in Nigeria

 

A review of A Snowflake in the Jungle – My two years in the Peace Corps Nigeria, West Africa, 1964-66, by James Jablonski, Publisher: Gravel Pit Press, 2025

    This memoir of time spent in Nigeria is not a snapshot. It is more a full-length feature film. The story is drawn from a daily journal and scads of letters home. It faithfully recounts Jim Jablonski’s – JJ as he was called by villagers - profound Peace Corps experience in a Nigerian village.  He was the only white man to reside in Affa - perhaps the inspiration for the title - and was given the task of creating a cooperative to grow and market vegetables.  The memoir traces the hurdles involved: convincing villagers to participate, securing the land, inputs and water, protecting the gardens from pests such as insects and wild cattle, the hard never-ending physical labor required, the vagaries of climate, and the difficulties of marketing.  But most important to the project’s success were the human interactions, the relationships built, the quarrels ironed out and friendships developed.  Jablonski chronicles these developments as they unfold.

    Throughout the book, the author muses about economic development and the difficulties of convincing villagers who are enthusiastic about an idea but are reluctant to do the work required to implement it. He judges that the pains of poverty are offset by rich relationships and spirituality. JJ learns much about Igbo culture, about the village hierarchy, about hospitality, marriages, burials and other ceremonies where cultural obligations take priority over modern logic. He observes the subordinate role of women.  He notes the dichotomy between the work ethic of school leavers who disdain physical labor and garden participants. He discusses the clash between traditional juju religion and Christianity but participates in both.  In summary, JJ becomes subsumed in village life. At first, they tolerated him, but because of his industriousness, came to appreciate him.

    This memoir will appeal to those who want the nitty gritty of what a day-to-day Peace Corps experience was like. Folks who served in West Africa will certainly want to compare JJ’s experience to their own.  Overall, the many anecdotes reveal a life changing experience for all involved – Jablonski certainly, but also his Nigerian friends, acquaintances, counterparts, fellow volunteers, missionary friends and government officials. That is what the Peace Corps is supposed to do.  Make a difference.

    Comment.  One cannot help but wonder, as does the author, whether the project can survive the absence of leadership provided by the PCV.  I believe that by their nature cooperatives have short life spans. Early success may keep them going but over time enthusiasm wanes, people move on, conflict arises and the venture expires.  That might have been the fate of JJ's cooperative but there was little time for internal dynamics to erode. Instead, the project was a victim of Nigeria's terrible civil war that reduced Biafra and Affa to ashes.