tribute to jonathan makeba

21598_MIOLO_ONDE_ESTA_JONATATAN_MAKEBA.indd 221598_MIOLO_ONDE_ESTA_JONATATAN_MAKEBA.indd 2 04/05/2012 10:53:1304/05/2012 10:53:13

Tribute to Jonathan Makeba

Copyright @ by Altair de Sousa Maia.This material may be reproduced in whole or in part, by permission and

if cited as source.

Email to contact: [email protected]

The English version is made byLeslie STONERS and Marcel TORFS.

ISBN.: 978-85-7563-963-4Original title.: Tribute to Jonathan Makeba

Catalogação na FonteBibliotecária Perpétua Socorro T. Guimarães

CRB 3/ 801

M217o Maia, Altair de Sousa Tribute to Jonathan Makeba./ Altair de Sousa Maia.- Fortaleza:

Expressão Gráfi ca e Editora, 2012. 180 p. ISBN: 978-85-7563-963-4 1. Desenvolvimento Econômico- África 2. África- comércio exterior 3. África -condições econômicas

I. TítuloCDD: 330


The Book

In “Tribute to Jonathan Makeba”, the author has cleverly combined a synopsis of his theories regarding the regeneration of the African

economy with a compelling ‘who done it’, which the reader will find hard to put down.

This book is a ‘must’ for anyone interested in learning about the politics, economics or simply the day to day suffering of many of

the people who inhabit the Dark Continent

Les Stoners / Marcel Torfs – Translators


This book is dedicated to my children, a testament of my existence.

And to everyone who has, in one way or another,

Contributed to the telling of this story.


Sumário

Prologue .....................................................................................................................13

An invitation by e-mail ...........................................................................................15

The first meeting .....................................................................................................17

Getting to Know a Project for Africa .................................................................19

Finalizing the details for the trip .........................................................................35

The meeting with Canada Phosphates ................................................................39

The start of a trip of a lifetime ..............................................................................47

Reflections on the African economic situation ...............................................49

Coloring in a grayscale image. ...............................................................................55

For whom the bell tolls .........................................................................................65

Confidential Information .....................................................................................67

Arriving in Ouagadougou .....................................................................................75

Burkina Faso and Niger – The West Coast of Africa ......................................81

The Sahel .....................................................................................................................87

A Zone in Permanent Conflict ............................................................................91

The first day at work in Burkina ..........................................................................93

The Future of the Project, or a Project with no Future? .............................. 103

Confirming the bluff ............................................................................................ 105

The Visit to Niger .................................................................................................. 107

A Friendly Meeting in Niamey .......................................................................... 111

Jonathan Makeba Comes to Dinner ................................................................ 113


Visiting the Burkina SociétéMinière Project ....................................................................................................... 119

An Inconclusive Conclusion ............................................................................. 129

Better to dine alone than in bad company .......................................................................................... 133

A late-night revelation ......................................................................................... 135

The Baobab Tree ................................................................................................... 143

A Late Night Phone Call .................................................................................... 145

The flight from Burkina ...................................................................................... 147

Mr. Stuart’s help ................................................................................................... 149

Taking off for Paris .............................................................................................. 151

An African leader on the streets of Paris ........................................................ 155

The unjust sleep of the just ................................................................................. 159

An unexpected reaction ...................................................................................... 163

Farewell to Paris ...................................................................................................... 167

Epilog ........................................................................................................................ 169

The author ............................................................................................................... 173

Works Published and Pending Publication .................................................... 175

The Translators ....................................................................................................... 177


Prologue

Jonathan Makeba is a real person.

He and his ancestors were all well-born Africans, who have been fighting (and still are) for the development of the countries within a continent I am fortunate to know well.

The twentieth century – the century of African Independence – saw the emergence of new political leaders all over the continent, both in small lands such as Guinea Bissau, as well as huge countries like The Congo, Mozambique and South Africa.

Jonathan Makeba’s leadership in the poor and miserable border region between Burkina Faso and Niger was based on strong ethical principles, coupled with solid economic concepts used in an effort to integrate the whole of the Sahel region into the Global Economy.

At the same time, an “evil influence”, personified by the directors of the Burkina Société Minière, is also very real and present. Moreover, this evil is far more widespread than one would imagine. If, in this abject African environment, I know ten well-intentioned people, then I must know at least twice as many whose intentions are not so good, both within and without Africa.

Intrigues, caused the twin evils of danger and corruption, are likewise very much alive and well; therefore the names of people, companies and places in my story have been changed in order to protect the identity of those concerned.

My opinions regarding the economic alternatives for the development of Africa, which run throughout this book, are also very real. The ideas have been promulgated in various articles, books and speeches within many diverse forums, institutions and universities.


To conclude this introduction, the African Continent is itself very real, with its sluggishness, its riches and resources, as well as its wounds, its history and its suffering peoples; Indeed, these are probably more real now than ever they have been.

And the Baobab trees, scattered along the African Savannah are themselves real living testimonies to a story which is still unfolding.


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Tribute To Jonathan MakebaAltair Maia

An invitation by e-mail

From: [email protected]: [email protected]: Your support.

Dear Mr. Maia.

We are a mining company with headquarters in the USA with interest worldwide. We have mining operations in various parts of the globe and partake in agricultural businesses in all five continents.

We are currently interested in developing a mining project in Central Africa, the negotiations for which are already well underway.

We would be interested in retaining your services to help us resolve various problems which have been encountered in the region.

We would be grateful if you could contact our New York office, with a view to arranging an initial meeting.

Yours sincerely

J. Cunningham

Fertilizers Inc.,

NYC


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17


The first meeting

I disembarked at John F. Kennedy International Airport, New York, on a chilly spring morning. I was welcomed by a man in a blue jacket, holding a Fertilizers Inc. sign which had my name on it.

“Good morning, my name is Altair Maia”.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Maia. Had a good trip?”

“Yes, thanks, it was a pretty uneventful flight”.

We continued chatting about the traffic, the weather and other such trivialities. In little over an hour we had arrived at the offices of Fertilizers Inc. on Fifth Avenue, in Manhattan.

I have to admit that I was eager to know more about the opportunities afforded by new trip to the dark continent. I wanted to know all details of this proposed Central African project.

In recent years I had traveled dozens of times to the African continent, mostly as an economic advisor. My clients had been domestic or foreign enterprises with commercial interests in various African countries.

While traveling to the “Five Africas” * I had roamed through more thirty of the continent’s fifty-three countries.

The enterprises I had helped develop had been of the widest possible variety, from the importation of raw materials and the export of finished products, to the introduction of modern technologies such as chips for telephones and credit cards. I had also acted as an advisor for various African governments wanting to improve their relationship with Brazil.

* Geographically, Africa is divided into five regions: North Africa, West Africa, Central West Africa, Central East Africa and Southern Africa.


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These African trips have earned me an unusual nickname, “Maia Africanus” which was bestowed upon me by the President of Benin during one of the visits I paid his country.

Through cultural, religious and other less tangent ties I feel quite at home while traveling to the continent of Africa, like someone returning to his pied à terre.

You can therefore imagine the joy I feel when I know that I’m about to pay another visit to my adopted second home.

I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I almost failed to notice the secretary calling my name.

“Mr. Maia, could you come this way please”.

I quickly stood up, straightened my jacket and followed her down a long corridor decorated with pictures of mineral layers, excavators and other mining equipment, gigantic trucks carrying sand and dirt, cargo ships and so on.

We entered a large room, finely decorated in a style which used themes other those relating to the world of mining. There were some original paintings as well as copies of those painted by famous artists.

At one end of the room, behind the President’s Chair, hung portraits of various people whom I assumed to be the Founding Fathers of Fertilizers Inc... A deep-piled grey rug, a large table and set of easy chairs completed the picture.

The three people already present stood up as I entered the room.

“Hello Mr. Maia. My name is John Cunningham, president of Fertilizers Inc. This is my international business advisor Tony Salinger, and over here is Kate, who will also be attending the meeting.”


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Getting to Know a Project for Africa

John Cunningham was of average height, athletic built, and appeared to be in his late fifties or early sixties. His blond hair was visibly thinning and his ruddy complexion revealed an almost certain Irish or Scottish ancestry. One of the portraits on the wall bore him a striking resemblance; I took it to be that of his father or possibly his grandfather.

Tony Sallinger was pale, short and chubby, with black hair and equally black, thick-rimmed spectacles. He put me in mind of Henry Kissinger, Richard Nixon’s Secretary of State, the man who had negotiated peace in the Middle East.

Kate, presumably in her early thirties, had straight black hair and dark, thinly rimmed glasses which enhanced a friendly, pretty face.

“Good morning, Mr. Cunningham, Mr. Sallinger. Good morning Kate”.

“I must say it’s quite an honor to be invited to the Head Offices of Fertilizers Incorporated. I was rather surprised to receive your invitation, and I can’t wait to hear all about your African venture”.

Their welcome was very friendly, and I felt quite at home discussing something in which I had been involved for over ten years; subjects and matters relating to Africa.

They first outlined Fertilizers Inc.’s activities and listed its branches, enterprises and joint ventures in various parts in the world: the company is involved in extracting, processing, packing and exporting mineral fertilizers from various parts of the world to various other parts of the world. They have a branch in Brazil where they operate two mines.


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The main activity of the company is selling mineral fertilizers, ready for agricultural use. On a big world map projected onto a large screen, Sallinger showed Fertilizers’ industries in America, Europe, Asia and Oceania.

At every point where they had a plant, he explained what they produced there and to where they exported their products.

Overall control of production and sales in every production unit is done in New York. Despite the financial independence of each unit, the determination over production quantity, production methods, the price at which and to whom the products are sold, remains with the mother company, Sallinger added.

After a short while I had come to know to one of the biggest, if not the biggest, fertilizer companies in the world.

A few minutes later the conversation shifted to the reason for my being here: a phosphate mine* in Burkina Faso, Central Africa.

“Little less than a year ago we started negotiations with a group in Burkina Faso regarding the exploitation of a phosphate mine”, continued the speaker.

As Mr. Maia may verify, phosphate forms the `main bulk` of Fertilizers Inc.’s products. Although we also work with other fertilizers, phosphate prevails.

This new enterprise was introduced to us by a Mr. Jonathan Swift Makeba, the president of a small agricultural mining company in Burkina Faso. The name of that company is Burkina Société Minière – BSM. I could

* By the term “phosphate”, rocks containing phosphate ions are meant. Phosphate is used in agriculture as a fertilizer. It is extracted from sedimentary rock.


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say that it more or less exists solely on paper. Its production is as good as non-existent. The entire development of the company will depend on our decision whether or not to go ahead with the partnership.

Mr. Makeba has shown us detailed maps of the region, as well as a technical survey of the potential phosphate production on the border with Niger. The mine is situated in the middle of the border region between Burkina and Niger, two of the poorest countries in the world.

“You’re right, Mr. Sallinger”, I interrupted, “besides the fact that they are among the poorest countries in the world, the border region between the two nations is even poorer still and, between ourselves, is one of the most dangerous areas in the whole of Africa.

“Very true, Mr. Maia. And all that poverty is sitting on top of large phosphate deposits, which, if exploited in accordance with Jonathan Makeba’s plans, could bring wealth and development to the whole region, not only for Burkina, but also for Niger where about 30% of the deposits can be found”.

“Jonathan Makeba has already established an excellent relationship with the Government of Niger, especially with reference to the possibility of building a packing industry at the other side of the border, to serve the phosphate processing factory”.

“By creating an enterprise with interests on both sides of the border, Makeba has avoided what we call predatory competition because, seeing a factory being built in Burkina, the government of Niger would almost certainly try to persuade one of our competitors to construct a mining enterprise on its own soil”.

“Having two plants manufacturing the same product, one less than three miles from the other, would certainly create unwanted competition


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for us”.

“Thanks to Makeba’s deal, the fertilizers produced in Burkina could enter Niger tax free, which would certainly be of benefit to the latter’s agricultural production”.

“The loss in tax revenues over the import of fertilizers into Niger would be compensated by the royalties we would pay for the operation of the mine”.

“The border region would be transformed into an industrial processing zone, a tax free zone with free movement of people and merchandise. There exist many successful examples of zones like the one proposed here all over the world”.

“And that, Mr. Maia, is the reason we invited you here” continued Cunningham.

“We’ve already started to make incursions into Africa. We’ve investigated a number of projects, some good, some bad, in various African countries where we could invest our money and resources”.

“The nebulous circumstances in which some of these African projects have failed - or are likely to fail - has made Fertilizers Inc. into a company which is determined not to make any more ill-prepared investments in that part of the world”.

“And yet, the project as presented by Makeba is of such a nature that we are prepared to make an exception. Moreover, the quality and potential of the resources and reserves of phosphates could provide us with decades of production”.

“Jonathan Makeba’s proposal is not simply to extract and export phosphates; it is much bigger than that, with implications for the


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development of the country itself”.

“He had presented us with a fully rounded project, which includes extraction, processing, exportation and which could also attract other industries to the region, which would be installed on both sides of the border. This poor and miserable border area could turn into a region of free development, in the Sahel belt, smack in the very heart of Africa”.

“In accordance with Makeba’s agreements with the Governments involved, royalties would be paid on the revenues of all these enterprises, and this money would be used for the socio-cultural development of the society as a whole, providing the community with schools, computers, libraries and cultural centers”.

“Technical schools would also be built, mainly for the development of entrepreneurship, together with the creation of technical courses in agriculture and commercial management”.

“In a small country like Burkina Faso, a project of this size could change the entire economy of the whole society. The process of extracting the phosphates alone would itself generate more than a thousand jobs, and the processing industry would need a similar number of people”.

“Smaller industries and service-sector businesses would naturally follow, attracted by investment opportunities, and these would generate thousands more jobs which, in turn, will need more services still. This could be the start of an economic revolution in the country! The same thing will also happen in Niger, on the other side of the border”.

“The packing plant there will need the services of subcontractor factories that will be built alongside. The royalties due would only be paid after ascertaining the use to which they would be put, so we would have a self-contained integrated economic system with regard to the project’s development, with the entire world as a potential market for the products.


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We would set up a board, with representatives from both the private and public sectors to ensure the proper management of these funds”.

“In addition, the need for technical personnel to cope with the demand would be provided by technical schools. Management courses would create a new stratum of society, specializing in overseas trade, people who are aware of the real potential of the country, people who could put Burkina on the globalized world map”.

“The schools would provide places for students from all over Africa, especially from the countries of the Sahel”.

“Specialists who graduate from those institutions would take away with them valuable knowledge which would help develop agriculture in their own regions”.

“Thus, the availability of cheap fertilizers in Burkina, Niger and the whole of the Sahel would become a reality, thereby initiating an agricultural revolution in the whole region, from individual smallholdings to large industrial farming enterprises with advanced technology and irrigation methods”.

“These conditions regarding industrial development have been written into the contracts drawn up by Makeba, and marked sine qua non”, said Cunningham.

“And these were precisely the factors which caught our attention. He had presented us with a project which was not only potentially highly profitable, but which would function with this social compromise. We were looking to make a profit, and he was interested in creating social and industrial development”.

“Out of this symbiosis, BSM Fertilizers was born, a project that would require an investment of more than one billion dollars in less than


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two years. At the start of the operations, the employees would be provided with houses, medical care, sanitary posts etc., and their children would be able to attend school and look forward to a bright future”.

“Fertilizers Inc. is involved in fertilizers the whole world over. Consequently, we should be involving ourselves in what is most essential to human life; sustenance: - our daily bread,” Cunningham continued.

Jonathan Makeba has brought us a project with an enormous profit outlook. We are a commercial enterprise and, as you would expect, we are looking to make a profit. But we know and respect the fact that, whilst he brought us a profitable project, Makeba’s interest was in providing a social rescue package, thereby returning dignity to his people and providing an example for whole of Africa.

“In the blue file in front of you will find a copy of Jonathan’s exemplary proposals - ideas which would bring tears to the eyes of even the most hard-hearted and insensitive businessman. I must confess that all the directors of Fertilizers Inc. have totally fallen in love with the project”.

I couldn’t fail to notice the emotion in his voice as he spoke these words.

“Mr. Cunningham, these proposals are incredible – undeniably brilliant! Moreover, they’re exactly the sort of ideas I’ve always had in mind myself for the development of the African economy.

“This would be a genuine partnership between a reputable organization like Fertilizers Inc., a truly global operator, and local companies who could benefit from their know-how, thereby developing markets at both national and international levels”.


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“But if this plan meets with the established norms and principles of Fertilizers Inc, what’s the problem? Where has the project stalled?”

“I like that, Mr. Maia. Straight to the point!”

“After Jonathan’s visit, we started to analyze the cost of implementing the project and to examine the documents he’d left us. We still had a number of reservations. So each day we emailed him dozens of questions which he answered meticulously, in a way which suggested that he knew exactly what he was talking about”.

“So we asked Nicholas Zaimer, the manager of our French subsidiary, to go to Burkina and look into the project, so we could get more details; what we needed was someone of our own to work with Makeba”.

“Nicholas went to Burkina several times, and was always well received in Ouagadougou”.

“Every time he went to there, he stayed for one or two weeks, analyzing all the information necessary to consolidate a project of this size. The only place he stayed longer was in Dori, where the project was due to take place. There he spoke with both the local authorities, and also with the people who lived there, people who might one day be our employees”.

“He met with the General Manager of the railroad company, and looked at the plans for expanding the network toward Senegal and The Ivory Coast. The reports he sent us after each visit confirmed everything that Makeba had told us”.

“In the last of these reports – you’ll find a copy in your file - he indicated his readiness to oversee the new company in Burkina, which was actually what we had had in mind all along; re-locating Zaimer to Burkina. He had exactly the right profile for a project like this, and would be strengthening our position with regard to the investment”.


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Three months ago, we made the decision to invest in Burkina. The agreement with Jonathan was duly drawn up and included all the particulars, such as the amount of investment, the method of extraction and industrial processing, together with the royalties to be paid, and details of the technical colleges and cultural centers – not an ‘i’ was left undotted nor a ‘t’ uncrossed!”

“The whole project was due to begin in less than two years, providing a completely new way of life for the people of the region”.

“We offered Makeba a flight to New York so he could sign the preliminary contract and we could start to get the ball rolling, bringing a new way of life to this impoverished region”.

“Right after the contract was signed, a scouting party comprising Sallinger, Zaimer and three geologists were to leave to give the project a final impetus by presenting it to the governments of Burkina and Niger. I addition they were to define the exact area where mining would take place, and decide on the location of the processing plant in Burkina, together with that of the packing facility in Niger”.

“I was to have been part of the second trip, which was intended solely for the purpose of signing the contract with the two Governments”, said Cunningham, “and to assist with the negotiations with the UN regarding the distribution of fertilizer to the countries of the Sahel”.

“In the last email we received from Makeba, he told us he had booked his flight with the travel company, and that he would be here the following week”.

“Since then, we’ve heard nothing more from him whatsoever. Our emails remained un-opened, the phone isn’t answered and our Embassy in Ouagadougou could only confirm what we already knew; Jonathan Makeba


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had himself bought the flight ticket at the travel agency”.

“However, the ticket was never used, and Makeba had disappeared. We tried to contact the two other members of his company, Mr. Frédéric Leconte and Mr. Jean Luc. They never returned any of our calls, nor did they reply to any of our messages”.

I was starting to wonder exactly what I was getting myself into here: trying to find someone who had disappeared in the heart of Africa. I must be crazy!

“Mr. Cunningham, I’m not sure how I can to help you. If your own Embassy isn’t able to find Makeba, what makes you think I can? Finding missing persons in Africa isn’t exactly my specialty, I’m afraid. Besides, going to that particular border region and investigating a missing person isn’t exactly going to be good for my health” I stuttered nervously.

“I know, Mr. Maia, and that wasn’t why I invited you here”

“Shortly after Jonathan’s disappearance, our main competitor in the fertilizer business, Canada Phosphates of Vancouver, received a proposal for mining phosphate in Burkina” continued Cunningham.

“The format of the project was basically the same as the proposal we had received. The company making the proposal was the same - Burkina Société Minière – BSM. The details of the project, however, were somewhat vague with regard to money, who exactly would benefit from the royalties, and the social and economic development aspects of the project”.

“What immediately caught our attention was that in Jonathan’s original plan, there had been an incentive of twenty percent regarding the finances of the project. In the plan that was proposed to Canada Phosphates, that percentage isn’t mentioned”.


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“Interesting” I replied, “And just exactly how did you manage to get your hands on so many details, Mr. Cunningham? Industrial espionage?”

“No, Mr. Maia”, he responded, smiling. “Canada Phosphates is no longer a competitor. Two years ago, we acquired the share rights of the company but continued to run the business as an independent enterprise, so that we were, in effect, competing with a business which we ourselves owned. That way, we could try to maintain overall control over the phosphates market.

The Board of Canada Phosphates is the same. We promoted the vice-president to president and put one of our own people there as VP, to act as a link between the two companies.

The fertilizer market in North America has become somewhat strained, as it has in the rest of the world. Canada Phosphates possesses a large percentage of that market, especially along the U.S. West Coast and down into Mexico, as well as some in the Canadian Midwest. Almost half of the world’s phosphates consumption lies in that region.

After taking all the relevant factors into consideration, we really had no other option other than buying the company. If control over Canada Phosphates had fallen into the hands of a competitor, we could have had serious problems.

The main activity of Canada Phosphates, as with ourselves, is phosphates. We had only two alternatives; it was either buy or buy!

When selling Canada Phosphates, the owners insisted that we keep the name of the company unchanged. We did even better than that: we kept both the name, and also the company’s independent status; furthermore, the headquarters have remained in Vancouver.


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“What we would like you to do, Mr. Maia”, Cunningham went on, is not to find Jonathan Makeba. Your job will be to find out what exactly is going on with regards to the apparent change of management at BSM. If everything was above board, the new management would naturally continue to negotiate with us. They could, if they had wanted, even chosen to end the negotiations, but they would have certainly have been in touch with us one way or the other.”

“According to the documents he gave us, which had been authenticated by our Consulate in Ouagadougou, Jonathan was the president of the Burkina Société Minière, and had two other partners, Frédéric Leconte and Jean Luc”.

“And yet, according to the documents presented to Canada Phosphates, he had transferred all his responsibilities to Frédéric Leconte, who now appeared to be the major stockholder and President of the Company”.

“Therefore, Mr. Maia, if the project is actually worth pursuing, meets our demands and turns out to be kosher, we intend to continue developing it through Canada Phosphates, with or without Jonathan Makeba”. “Your task will be that of an economic counselor. My information tells me this is your forte. You will not need to go out to the border region between Burkina and Niger while looking into the matter of his disappearance. You will only need to travel to Burkina, and meet the new management team and send us a report regarding the true situation at BSM, and why the reigns of the company were passed from Makeba to Leconte. Better still if you succeeded in talking to Jonathan himself, so you could get the facts straight from the horse’s mouth”.

“If you agree to this, we will ask Canada Phosphates to email those


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who now appear to be in charge of the project, introducing you as their company’s International Operations Manager. They will also let you know when you will need to visit Burkina, so you can collate all the information regarding the proposed partnership between BSM, Canada Phosphates and the respective Governments of Burkina and Niger”.

I have to admit that this proposal left me a little apprehensive, but at the same time curious and excited about the idea. To have the opportunity of working on a project that could bring wealth and opportunity to one of the most underdeveloped regions of the planet was more than I could have hoped for.

The opportunity to be involved in such a worthwhile, indeed honorable, undertaking was just too good to miss, so I grabbed it with both hands.

“Thanks very much, Mr. Maia. Rest assured that we are doing everything we can to ensure that this affair is handled in an ethical and transparent way”.

“Kate has been authorized to sort out all the arrangements for your flight and hotel reservations”.

“It would be a good idea if you could familiarize yourself with Canada Phosphates itself, so tomorrow, Tony Sallinger will accompany you to Vancouver”.

“As far as your contract of employment is concerned, let me know if meets with your approval”. He handed over the contract with a check attached. “On top of your salary, we have included a contingency for risk, which includes a sizeable life insurance policy”.

“I would like you to take with you a letter of introduction which you can show to John Stuart, at our Embassy in Ouagadougou. Only use it if you really need to – but don’t lose it. You may well find it useful where


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you’re going!”

I took the contract and glanced at the check. It wasn’t just the life insurance policy that was large, so was the check! After giving it a quick once-over, I signed the contract and handed a copy to Cunningham, who in turn gave it to Kate.

You will be aware that this is a lot of money, Mr. Cunningham. A lot of specialists in African affairs would give their right arm to land such a contract. So why pick me? Sorry to ask, but I’d like to know what I’m getting myself into”.

“Our office in Brazil has told us that you’re the best man for the job. A Brazilian working in Africa will attract far less attention than would a North American. You guys have more empathy for work such as this in such a country”.

“Moreover, Nicholas Zaimer, who would perhaps have been the obvious candidate for the job can’t do it, as he has already been to Burkina, where he’s known to work for Fertilizers Inc.”

“What we need is a person with a good understanding of international commerce; someone who is familiar with big numbers, and who has a good working knowledge of Africa with all its associated problems”

“Also, at the same time as pursuing the investment itself, we also need to look for alternative ways of exporting phosphates from the ports of Dakar or Abidjan to the U.S. and South America.”

“I was intrigued by way you approached opportunity of maritime transport via the South Atlantic, in your book Baobab – African Scenes and Facts. Commercially speaking, Brazil and West Africa are still only connected via Europe. With regard to maritime transport this is a problem, since it makes transport longer and more expensive.”


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“When you return from Burkina, maybe we could talk about this. Anyway, with the phosphate project in full operation, we will need to organize maritime transport between the West Coast of African and South America. The current logistics could not cope with our needs - we couldn’t afford the luxury of shipping to South America via an intermediate port in Europe.”

“Incidentally, I thought your book was very interesting – have you thought of translating it into English? North Americans have started to get very interested in Africa”.

“Thanks, Mr. Cunningham. Can you read Portuguese?”

“Sim senhor Maia” he replied.

“When I visit our Brazilian office I prefer to talk directly with the employees in their own language”.

“I was both happily surprised. I was starting to feel more and more at home with this company whose ideas about Africa coincided with those I had been advocating for some time - businesses built on equal partnerships.”

“Mr. Maia, I want to thank you once again for your understanding and help. From now on, Kate will take care of all the arrangements regarding your trip. As far as the project is concerned, Tony Sallinger has been asked to give you any information you need. During your trip to Vancouver you’ll have plenty of time to discuss the matter with him”.

“I’ll talk to Nicholas, and ask him to meet you in Paris. It’s very important that you meet him so that he can fill you in on all the project details; unlike us, he’s already been there and has first-hand knowledge”.

“If you have time, I’d like you to try and meet a man called Douda Moussula. He is the Minister of Social Implantation in Niger, and Jonathan spoke very highly about him, adding that he was a good partner and ardent


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supporter of our project”, said Sallinger

We all rose, and I took my leave, Kate accompanying me out of the room.


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Finalizing the details for the trip

“May I take the liberty of inviting you to have lunch with me in my office, Mr. Maia, so we can make reservations for your hotel and flight?”

“Thank you, Kate”

Her office was quite large. It contained a desk and a large, circular meeting table.

Lunch consisted of fried chicken with tartar sauce, typical American “junk food”, but still very tasty. While we were eating, Kate accessed the various travel agency sites for flights both to Canada and Burkina Faso.

“Would you like a window or aisle seat, Mr. Maia?”

“A window seat on the right hand side, if possible”.

All the reservations had been made by the time we finished our meal; not all the flights had window seats however, but luckily they were all on the right-hand side of the plane.

We all have some strange little quirks that we carry with us our entire life; sitting on the right-hand side of a plane is one of mine!

The flight to Burkina comprised three legs; the first was to Paris, where I had a six hour wait before catching the next flight to Dakar, in Senegal. I could have flown direct to Dakar, but the stopover in Paris was necessary as I needed to meet Nicholas Zaimer, which I could do at the airport. I had also asked to have at least one day in Dakar, as I had another meeting there.


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“For tonight, I’ve made you a reservation in the Waldorf Astoria Hotel. I hope you’ll like it. Our driver will take you there”, Kate informed me.

“Mr. Sallinger will pick you up at the hotel at seven-thirty tomorrow morning, and take you to the airport for the flight to Vancouver. The return flight is scheduled for the following day; it leaves at nine in the morning”.

“The reservations for Paris are not for another three days. So, you’ll have a bit of time of off when you get back from Vancouver”.

“On the day you leave for Paris, the driver will pick you up at the hotel at four o’clock in the afternoon, and take you to the airport. I will sort out the rest of the documents you’ll, including visas for Senegal and Burkina Faso, and the driver will give them to you the day you leave”.

“Oh, and one more thing, before I forget. We’ve organized a satellite phone for you. Communications from Burkina to the rest of the world are sometimes very bad, so you may need it. Use it to call us for whenever you want”.

“We have also arranged for you to have a Canada Phosphates email address: it’s: [email protected]

Please change the password the first time you use it, for security purposes”.

I thanked Kate for the phone and the email address, wished her goodbye, and went to meet my driver. I arrived at the hotel at five in the afternoon.

The suite at the hotel was comfortable enough.

I used the rest of the afternoon together with some of the evening


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to read and re-read the information I’d been given, and to memorize and record everything I’d found out earlier in the day.

I switched on my lap-top and surfed the internet for more information about Burkina Faso and Niger, especially anything I could find about the border region, one of the biggest powder-kegs in the whole of Africa.

I emailed my son, a geology student at Brasilia University, and asked if he could send me any information about phosphates. I needed to know as much as I could on the subject.

It wasn’t until midnight that I finally managed to get some sleep. Though tired, I was still unable to contain my excitement. My adrenalin level must have hit a thousand!


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39


The meeting with Canada Phosphates

Tony Sallinger arrived next morning at seven-thirty sharp. The flight was due to depart at ten.

On the outbound flight, the time difference worked in our favor. We would set off at ten and arrive around noon. On the return flight, however, the effect was the opposite; we would leave at nine in the morning and arrive in New York at five in the afternoon.

The flight was uneventful and we landed on schedule. A Phosphates Inc. driver, who Sallinger already knew, was waiting to meet us.

I really miss Vancouver, I thought; I had spent some time there about twenty years ago, when I’d been studying English.

The Phosphates Building, headquarters of Canada Phosphates, is a fifteen-storey block with blue mirrored windows, situated on Hornby Street. The former owner of the company had sold the whole thing to avoid family quarrels. He feared that a family feud would bring the company to bankruptcy.

He finally decided to sell when he found out that the prospective buyer did not intend to change the name of the company. So the deal was done, and this beautiful building continued to function as the company’s headquarters, with its name unchanged.

We arrived for the meeting a little after two in the afternoon. In the large and well-decorated meeting room were only four of us: Mr. Steven, the


40


new President of Canada Phosphates, David Decker, the Vice-President and Cunningham’s representative, Tony Sallinger and myself.

Mr. Steven bid us welcome, had a quick word in private with Decker, then made his apologies and left. He had to go to another meeting with some Canadian distributors, and it couldn’t be canceled.

“I was still with Fertilizers Inc. when Jonathan first contacted us”, said Decker. “At first I didn’t like the idea at all, because doing business in Africa can be extremely complicated, and we already had other priorities, including those here in Vancouver caused by the recent completion of the takeover.

“When Jonathan came to see us in New York, I quizzed him thoroughly, as I was very dubious about the idea of making investments in Africa. The acquisition of Canada Phosphates had just cost us a great deal of money, and the time wasn’t really right for another big investment, especially not one in Africa”.

“Jonathan, however, remained adamant that his proposals were viable. He proved to have an in-depth knowledge of the world’s phosphate market, and was well aware of the value of the project which he now held in his hands”.

“He was also very aware of all the problems inherent in such a project in a region so isolated and inaccessible”

“Our deliberations lasted three hours. I got the impression that before he had come to New York, Jonathan had made a serious study of our organization, as well as acquiring an in-depth knowledge of the world phosphates market. He seemed to know Fertilizers Inc. very well.”

“For my part, I was determined not to let the idea take root. I told Jonathan that the mere existence of a phosphate mine didn’t automatically


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mean it would be operationally viable. Phosphate extraction is always very difficult, so imagine the problems of trying to extract and process the stuff in such a desolate part of the world!”

“I also explained an additional problem; mining such huge deposits might cause prices to plummet worldwide, due to the overwhelming supply. The global need for phosphate is rising, but everything has its limits!”

“To this, he had simply replied that in Africa, beggars can’t be choosers. If they hadn’t the resources to do something on their own, then they would be forced do it with the help of a foreign enterprise or government; possibly one that was willing to get into bed with some of their worst politicians”.

“They now have an ideal opportunity to break with the old ways of doing things. They had a product of extremely high quality for which a market already existed; there was a huge demand for phosphates. Consumption was expected to continue to rise for at least the next two or three decades.”

“He argued neither a glut nor a price-crash was likely. The UN, through their International Fund for Agricultural Development, had decided to give support to the whole Sahel region. This aid alone would consume a large percentage of their output”.

“The earth, he had continued, is able to provide all of Africa’s needs, but unless Africans themselves learn to handle it with the care and attention it deserves, they will always be sitting with arms outstretched, begging bowls in their hands”.

“His project would give them the chance to use their own land and resources to provide them with the sustenance they needed, and to break the vicious circle of famine, poverty and misery”.


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“If Fertilizers Inc. didn’t want to go into partnership with them, someone else undoubtedly would. But of all the companies he had researched, his preference was for us, because of our past record and the way we do business”.

“They had already been contacted by a Chinese consortium which was interested in extracting the phosphate. On principle, he didn’t like the idea, unless there was a radical change in the way they conducted business in Africa. He was determined to avoid making the same errors as his predecessors; it was not just a matter of money alone, there were three issues that had to be taken into account - money, development and social responsibility”.

“And that, he told me, was why he had come to see us. He was looking for a global organization with sufficient integrity and funds to invest”.

“If nobody was willing to take the first step, the African economy would continue to be stuck in the same groove”.

On the other hand, Mr. Decker, no-one in their right minds would be expected to leave Europe of their own free will and go and live in America”.

And then, after a small pause, he continued “but that’s precisely what happened five centuries ago!

“This sentence finally broke the ice, as well as my opposition to the scheme. Fertilizers Inc. is not a company on the look-out to make a quick buck. On the contrary, we’ve been established for more than eighty years, and we intend to be around for a long time to come.”

“Jonathan stayed for two days. On the second day I spent most of my time looking at the details of the project, and by the end of the day I was convinced. Everything Jonathan had shown me - documents, maps, graphs


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– pointed to the fact that the business opportunities could be enormous.”

“The Burkina phosphate deposits were of high quality, and could be sold anywhere in the world, but they would be targeted specifically at the African Sahel itself, an area that richly needed and deserved them.”

“The Sahel is a semi-arid belt that stretches for over four thousand miles from one side of the continent to the other. A phosphate mine here would make good sense, as the product could be easily distributed for use within the region’s own agriculture.”

“Once I had agreed in principle to go forward with the scheme, Jonathan sent me information on a weekly basis. Sometimes we spent hours on the phone while he described his dreams for the future development of the area”.

“He had all the information for the development of Burkina, Niger, the Sahel, indeed for the whole of Africa, at his fingertips”.

“Once the project in Burkina was up and running, it would be extremely difficult for the dictatorial African regimes to explain to their people why their past efforts had so often left the public coffers bereft of funds.”

“And so, Mr. Maia, by the time Nicholas Zaimer, our man in France, had been to Ouagadougou a few times, we had no more reservations. There was no alternative; we simply had to run with the project” he concluded.

“Well, Mr. Decker, Jonathan certainly seems to have convinced you all of his integrity, his in-depth knowledge, and his ability to be instrumental in transforming the fortunes of these two adjacent countries.”

“Exactly. So as you can imagine, it came as a bit of a blow when all contact abruptly ceased”


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“Then, out of the blue, it came to my attention that the same project was being offered to Canada Phosphates, but with no mention of Jonathan Makeba. It was a bit of a shock. My first reaction was to call Frédéric Leconte and ask him what was going on, but I thought better of it, and decided to find some other way to handle the situation.

“I talked with John Cunningham, and we decided that Canada Phosphates should go full steam ahead with the negotiations and see what happened.

According to this latest proposal, all the authorities in Burkina were in favor of the project. They wanted to press on, and appeared to have a lot of influence at governmental level. They also spoke of the interest expressed by the government of Niger, which was also one of the main points in Jonathan’s original plan.”

“It was at this point that Cunningham decided to contact you. I want to wish you the best of luck”.

“Yesterday, we emailed Frédéric Leconte, letting him know who you are, and why you’re going to Ouagadougou. I forwarded you a copy. I think it would be a good idea for you yourself to contact him from your new Phosphates email address to let him know you’re coming. This should get you off on the right foot”.

“OK David. I’ll get on with that straightaway”.

“With regard to Jonathan, it would be fantastic if you were able to meet him. Even though he’s no longer in charge of this project, it still has his fingerprints all over it”.

“It seems to me” I replied, “that this thing has more than just Jonathan’s fingerprints; it contains his own DNA. I‘ve read everything you


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sent me about both Jonathan and the project. It seems like it’s made in his own image.”

After the meeting, Decker dropped took us at the hotel where Kate had made reservations. He declined our invitation to dinner as he still had other meetings to attend. Sallinger and I dined at a restaurant nearby, where we could talk of little else but Jonathan’s apparent disappearance

Around midnight we returned to the hotel, and I went straight to bed without switching on my laptop. I needed some rest.

On the flight back to New York, Tony Sallinger and I went through everything I would need to discuss with Frédéric Leconte.

“Well then, Mr. Maia, you now know everything there is to know about the project and all information relevant to it. The only missing piece of the jigsaw is Jonathan himself, but if all goes according to plan you’ll come back from Ouagadougou with good news, enabling us to go ahead with our plans, either with or without him”.

“That’s all very well, but, as Decker had said, Jonathan’s fingerprints are still all over project. It would be much better if we were able to make contact with him, before talking to the men who are currently running BSM.”

To complete the picture I just needed to talk with Nicholas Zaimer in Paris. He could probably add the finishing touches.

We arrived back in New York on schedule, and the company driver was waiting for us. A little after eight p.m. I checked into my hotel and wished Sallinger good night.

After dinner I needed a good night’s sleep, but not before checking my emails. There was a message from my son, giving me a complete


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breakdown on phosphate, so by the time I was finally able to get some sleep I knew a bit more about the stuff.


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The start of a trip of a lifetime

I had a refreshing and peaceful night’s sleep. My thoughts were starting to come together now, and I had drawn my battle-plans. The free morning would give me time to consolidate these plans, and to do more research into Burkina Faso, as well as answering my emails.

By around ten, I was already surfing the net, franticly mugging up on fertilizers, Burkina Faso, Niger, the Sahel, etc. etc. etc.

There were no emails, apart from an invitation from my friend Juliana Holanda to attend a lecture on Africa during the ‘Week of Black Consciousness’ in three weeks time. I accepted, adding I was away at the moment, but that I should be back in good time.

I then checked my new Canada Phosphates in-box, and found two messages. One was from Frédéric Leconte thanking me for the message I had sent the day before, and asking me to confirm the date and time of my arrival so he could meet me at the airport. The other was a reply from Nicholas Zaimer, confirming that he would be at Paris Orly Airport when I arrived so we could meet then.

Having finished my morning’s work, I decided to go for a stroll, followed by lunch at a local Portuguese restaurant, after which I returned to the hotel for a little siesta, and to prepare for three long days of travel to Ouagadougou.

At exactly four in the afternoon, the company driver arrived at the hotel, with a black folder containing some business cards and a sealed envelope marked Open Only in Emergency, which I took to be the letter of introduction to the American Embassy at Ouagadougou.


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The folder also held copies of all the correspondence between the ‘new’ directors of the Burkina Société Minière, and Canada Phosphates, together with visas for Senegal and Burkina. (Kate had previously asked me for my passport details and a recent photograph). With everything now in order we set off for the airport.

I was now Altair S. Maia, Director of International Operations, Canada Phosphates, Vancouver, Canada. My job was to gather and collate information for an investment of over one billion dollars, an investment which could, in a relatively short space of time, revolutionize the development of one of the world’s poorest areas, in the very heart of Africa.

It could also serve as a role model for other governments within the continent, so often devastated, by war, famine and misery, an idea which I was hoping would come to fruition as much as Jonathan.


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Reflections on the African economic situation

In recent history, from the moment the first Europeans crossed the Atlantic, no country, or group of countries in Africa has had any power. On the contrary, they have merely been pawns in the European political and economic games, and, more recently, those played by the U.S., Japan and China.

During the last few decades, only the countries of northern Africa, with their valuable reserves of oil, and South Africa, with its strategically important geographical position, have had any hope whatsoever of a bright future. The other African nations have been at the mercy of decisions made in Europe, even after winning their independence in the middle of the twentieth century.

During the last fifty years, wars, famine, political disputes and misery have dashed the hopes of these emerging African nations. Nations that had once cherished the idea of equality in a world which was now sinking deeper and deeper into inequality and divisiveness.

The cold war of the last century was actually not all that cold for the whole of the African continent. Whilst the heralds of a brave new world broadcast their achievements at international forums, and the media waxed eloquent about this or that governmental system, the only sound that could be heard coming from Africa was that made by cannons and guns, and the cries of desperation reverberating throughout the burning deserts, the arid savannas and the silent forests.


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In the nineteen-sixties and -seventies, virtually all of Africa was at war, be it a war of colonial independence, or a civil war between different factions vying for power within the same country.

“War begins when diplomacy fails”, as they say. In Africa though, one thing was different. The failure in diplomacy was not the fault of the parties directly involved in each conflict. The place where diplomacy had failed was thousands of miles away, far away from the theater of operations. It was in the politburos of Moscow and Washington with Europe looking on, that diplomacy had failed.

If war begins when diplomacy fails, this war was certainly caused by a failure in diplomacy! So, doing what was expected of them, the Africans went to war, losing millions of lives and creating the conditions for a vicious circle of poverty and misery.

The results of this more or less permanent state of war are still visible in Africa today. The entrepreneurs that have it within their power to bring development and progress, are put off by the reputation which both they and the governments from the East and West still believe to be true.

On my first visit to Africa, I went to look for raw materials needed for the processing of Brazilian cashew nuts; today such ideas have started to gain impetus, with processors of cashew nuts forming partnerships with local African growers and export the nuts to markets as far afield as Europe, the U.S. and Japan.

The basic idea is simple; install nut processing factories in situ and bring in the production know-how to where the nuts are grown. This way, instead of the growers exporting raw materials, they export processed products ready for consumption. The rewards – especially in terms of social benefits – would be enormous, due to the creation of thousands of new jobs, in addition to the energy source which could be generated by the


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using the by-products as fuel.

Also, partnerships could be started for the production of vegetable based bio-fuels, which can then be used to generate electricity. Such projects are all within the scope of increasing development for the African continent, where a shortage of electricity is a permanent problem.

These sorts of projects help to contradict the image of a continent torn apart by war, and thereby instill the confidence needed to secure investment capital, together with a degree of security in terms of political and administrative continuity.

This in turn depends on the governments agreeing to reduce the risks incurred by such companies to an absolute minimum, and whether that happens or not depends entirely on the African governments themselves. Serious governments are needed which demonstrate a respect for the law.

The international organizations and governments that are looking to help in the development of Africa, one way or another, are many and various. However, an inability to focus clearly on the problems, often combined with a lack of good management, means that their efforts often amount more of a hindrance than a help.

So-called “first world experts” get in bed with other specialists in an attempt to take charge of African nations, and draw up ‘aid plans’. But very often, those countries on the receiving end of such ‘help’ merely see their debts growing bigger and bigger, whilst the ‘experts’ see their own bank accounts grow larger and larger.

I tried to bear in mind all such issues relating to so-called African aid, whilst I was trying to analyze Jonathan’s project; all he was really looking for was an organization with integrity and the necessary know how to help process phosphates in situ.


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The way Jonathan saw things, governments should only act as facilitators for such enterprises, and not get directly involved with the projects themselves. Business is best left to the private sector, and not to the corrupt and lawless Governments which are prevalent in both Africa and many other parts of the world.

The raison d’etre of a scheme like this should be the new jobs it would create, the income which would be raised by taxation, and the ‘knock-on’ effect of attracting other industries to come to the region, rather than solely looking to make a quick profit.

In all the time I’ve been traveling to Africa, I haven’t come across many prospective investors who take the point of view of Fertilizers Inc. and try to establish partnerships in order to help with the development of a particular area or a country.

All you tend to see in Africa are deals that help the wealthy and powerful, foreign aid which never reaches its destination, military rule that kills and destroys anything which stands in its way, and local grandees becoming even richer and more powerful, whilst all the time subjugating the state for their own personal benefit.

Half the aid destined for Africa never even leaves its country of origin. It remains in the large international banks, having been transferred to the accounts of African officials, later to be divided between themselves and the shrewd “entrepreneurs” from the first world.

Jonathan’s project, though itself a capitalist enterprise based on the idea of making a profit, did at least offer some hope to an area that had already suffered so much. Perhaps it was this fact that had pricked Cunningham’s conscience. It was starting to prick mine too.

I’ve been going to Africa for more than ten years, during which time


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I’ve never seen anything but grandiose schemes in which the poorest in society receive nothing, often, in fact losing the little they already have.

So, entranced in such thoughts, and immersed in the same spirit that had inspired Fertilizers Inc. to try and give Africa a chance, I did not at first notice the stewardess trying to get my attention.

“Sir, sir! Would you like something to drink?”

After the in-flight dinner, washed down with an acceptable French wine, I leaned back in the comfort of my executive-class seat whilst pondering all the information I had gathered together with the project’s objectives

I remembered Cunningham’s words:

‘Whilst not part of you main objectives, you should, if at all possible, endeavor to meet Jonathan Makeba. He is the key to the whole issue. There wouldn’t even be a project if it weren’t for him.’

I thought about the profile of that man who had succeeded, single-handed, in persuading Fertilizers Inc. – a huge international company, to invest in one of the poorest and most dangerous areas of the planet. He must really be something special.

‘Really special’ I repeated to myself.

‘Well, Mr. Cunningham’ I thought, ‘you’re wrong. Meeting Jonathan Swift Makeba should be my prime objective’. What was at stake here was not just a phosphate mining Project in Burkina. It is a project of exploring natural resources in Africa, under the eye and developing and social view of Jonathan Makeba, and which may serve as a model to all the other countries of the continent.

‘I have to meet him’ I thought, following my gut instinct.


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Coloring in a grayscale image.

Just after seven in the morning we landed at Paris Orly International Airport. In little under six hours I would be boarding another plane for Dakar.

The amount of time wasted getting on and off flights is starting to get ridiculous! When you land, at least you only have the obligatory bureaucracy to contend with, but when you’re boarding a flight, you have the added inconvenience of increased security measures. I don’t know if these procedures make the world a safer place or not; I only know that traveling by plane becomes more and more time-consuming every time I fly.

Nicholas Zaimer met me at the Customs’ exit. To my surprise he was not fair-skinned as I had imagined, but of swarthy appearance, tall and in his mid-fifties, or perhaps a little older.

We ate breakfast in one of the airport restaurants, where he told me that his grandfather had been French, and had been the French commercial attaché in Cameroon, where he had met his grandmother, a native of that country. His grandparents had had two children, a son (his father) and a daughter.

With growing instability in Cameroon at the time it’s independence from France (and a little later from the U.K. *), his family had fled to France where his father had met and married his mother, a native of France. His parents had had two children, his sister and himself.

* (*)French Cameroon became independent on January 1st, 1960, and the southern part gained independence from Britain October 1st, 1961, the two merging on this date to form the Federal Republic of Cameroon.


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“But enough of me - let’s get straight to the point, Mr. Maia”, he said.

“Yes, you’re right, Nicholas. We don’t have a lot of time.”

“OK. So when John Cunningham first told me about the project, I didn’t really think it was viable. I know Africa well, and I know even more about the Burkina-Niger border region, to the north of Benin and south of the Sahara.”

“The area is very unstable. A lack of food, water and medicine, and the constant presence of nomads who rampage through the desert have made the region inhospitable and dangerous”.

“When they asked me to keep an eye on the project, Deker told me, off the record, that he did not believe the plan was feasible”.

“I’ve been to Burkina several times to monitor the project. Jonathan was right about what he said it could mean to his homeland. Everyone I spoke to, from the bureaucrats down to the man in the street, told me they had every confidence in Makeba and he was regarded as something of an influential player in that part of the world”.

“All the information I brought back to France from my first visit confirmed what Jonathan had said: that the phosphates were of excellent quality, among the best in the world.”

“In terms of quality, is it as good as that extracted at Nauru?” I asked.

“Yes, the quality’s just as good as Nauru. And the reserves are immense. If the extraction’s done properly, as Jonathan had in mind, it could substantially improve the quality of life of the entire population”.

“Two or three weeks after I visited Burkina, Jonathan told me he was coming to Paris for a meeting with an African student group. I met


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him and went with him to the meeting, which wasn’t so much a meeting as a lecture about Africa’s future. He listed each country in turn, pointing out their respective strengths and weaknesses, and highlighted all of the possible business opportunities which existed”.

“He went on to explain the concept of ‘aggregated value’; the idea of building on what already exists, and the effect this can have on the lives of ordinary people, such as raising the standard of living and reducing diseases that are caused by poor living conditions. The partnerships he proposes are linked to precisely that idea, i.e. taking resources which already exist on African soil and enabling them to participate in the global market”.

“He said was very much in favor of foreign capital investment, but it should be born in mind that some of the benefits produced by such investment must remain in African itself”.

“I can remember exactly what he had said about the current situation:

‘The vast majority of investment projects in Africa, if and when they come to fruition, are only designed to extract the maximum possible amount of the country’s natural resources, in order to process them elsewhere, generating huge profits for other countries. The same goes with oil, timber, cashew nuts and mineral ores’”.

“He went on to say that their idea was to take out the raw material, and put it on a ship for processing in the U.S., Europe, China or Japan. Some African oil exporting countries don’t even have refineries producing petroleum for their own consumption. They sold the crude oil and bought back gasoline”.

“What’s more, they sold timber in planks and bought back furniture. They sold ore in bulk and bought back all kinds of consumables. They sold their natural rubber and bought back its derivatives’.


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“In whole of Africa there were only three car factories, to serve a population of more than eight hundred million. The little industry which existed was to be found only in South Africa. The level of industrialization in the other countries was practically zero”.

“He said that to get some idea of the numbers involved, Africa as a whole exported about three hundred thousand tons of raw cashew nuts per year, and received no more than two hundred million dollars for this export (less than 30 cents per pound weight)”.

“This same quantity of cashew nuts, if processed in Africa and exported as a finished product, could generate at least five hundred million dollars, or almost three times the value of the raw nut”.

“Processing in situ would more than double the income. And this is without counting the thousands of jobs that would be created, or the value of the by-products produced, like the shells, which could be used to create energy, or the oil for use in the manufacture of paints, enamels or other products”.

“Africa was looking for partnerships in all branches of commerce, but especially in food processing. Meanwhile, the prevailing image was that of a politically unstable continent still at war”.

“And that was exactly what they, the Africans themselves, needed to change. They needed to learn how to play the international game, the game of administrative efficiency, the game of integrating the values to the resources that were provided by nature”.

“But first they must prepare their ground by establishing stable governments which are elected democratically, and are transparently honest. If they don’t, the progress and social development that they all wanted so badly will remain a dream”.


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“He concluded his three-hour speech with a sentence so poignant that still rings in my ears:

“A country whose athletes don’t even have a pair of running shoes to run in the marathon can run barefoot if necessary be, but participate it must! What we want is to participate in the race’”.

“The newspapers printed articles about the event, dubbing Jonathan Makeba the New leader of the Sahel. It was great. But Makeba’s influence is going reach farther than just the countries of the Sahel. He would be an African leader first, but from such beginnings would probably end up as a world leader, a self-proclaimed spokesman at international forums for the world’s poor and dispossessed”.

“For a few days Makeba’s ideas got some media coverage, but not much; next time, I thought, things would have changed”.

“The next time he gave a lecture here, things would be totally different. I introduced him to a friend with a lot of influence in the press as far as African matters are concerned - a guy called Mbeng, the owner of a little restaurant which doubles as the headquarters of the African resistance movement in Paris. If you get the chance, you should try and meet him”.

“But let’s return to the subject, Mr. Maia. On my subsequent visits to Burkina, I became more and more certain that here we had not just a massive undertaking, but also an enormous opportunity. On the first visit I had just been feeling my way, getting to know the place, but on the later trips I focused more on getting to know the internal African market better, especially that of the Sahel countries”.

“On one of my trips I got the chance to visit Niger, Chad, Mali and Mauritania, where I met each of the respective Agriculture ministers, and all of them said they were in favor of the Burkina project”.


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“I think that the same thing is going to happen in the eastern part of the Sahel. If the UN really wants to do something for these countries, then this the right time and the right place”.

“A phosphates mine in the Sahel itself would not only make the product cheaper, it would help to revitalize hundreds of thousands of small family farming projects that weren’t previously viable, due to the high cost of transporting fertilizers from God-only-knows where to the Sahel”.

“On the final day of my last trip to Burkina, Jonathan had invited me for dinner at his place. It was a simple house, though well kept by his wife, Michelle, who was also was an incredible person. They both shared the same idea for developing Burkina by means of the phosphates project”.

“While Jonathan was immersing himself in the world of politics, Michelle was teaching women about agriculture, personal hygiene, and child-care. She had even started to teach them how to use the new fertilizers that soon would be available throughout the Sahel region”.

“A woman in Africa, Mr. Maia, has to do more work than virtually anywhere else in the world; in most African homes, the provision of daily sustenance is left to her, and as well as being the breadwinner, she also has to look after her house and family”.

“Every woman you meet on the street will probably be carrying a child on her back and a basket on her head. In the basket will be something she wants to sell, to augment the family income”.

“To speak about Women’s Rights in Africa is laughable - a woman is still little more than her husband’s property. Physical abuse is not uncommon within the family, and a woman has no access to education and no right to vote. Worst of all, in many tribes they are the victims of genital mutilation; it denigrates the entire human race”.


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“While the world may treat Africa with disdain, African tribal customs and traditions often treat women far worse”.

“That’s right”, I interjected “the inequality of women in Africa is frightening.”

“I know of a women’s association in Guinea Bissau, the Women’s Organization for Economic Activity, whose aim is to lend technical and managerial support to women involved in small businesses.

“In the small country of Guinea, thousands of women are already members of this association, and they’re taught the basics of any business – how to buy, sell, and give change, as well as the need to understand the value of money itself”,

“During one of their meetings their President issued the following challenged to her audience:

‘If you want to help your country economically, then help the women! They have the means to change this country’s image’”.

“That’s how it is, Mr. Maia. What is happening in Guinea happens all over Africa. The continental underdevelopment, and the permanent discrimination against women, are just two of the results of the abrogation, corruption, illiteracy and ill-management of the public resources.”

“The solution is to have more projects of the type we envisage between Fertilizers Inc. and BSM – which will help generate jobs and income and, subsequently, social development and growth”.

“The head of any family, be they a man or a woman wants their right to work respected, a monthly salary, a new social order and a new world vision”.


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“And once more, Jonathan was right. When you extract the earth’s riches and to process it in another place, it not only leaves a large hole behind, it also fosters corruption and embezzlement within the government”.

“The stories they had told me about the level of corruption there are appalling. I’ve actually met some of the people he talked about. Some of them are his wife’s own relations, so there is a lot of conflict between her and her relatives”.

“What we want you to do is to determine whether or not the project’s still viable without Jonathan in control. Personally, I have my doubts”.

“Even with Jonathan in charge the project was never going to be easy, but we were sure that if anyone had the determination to make it happen, it was him. It’s possible that with Frédéric at the helm, we can still make it work, but I think it will be twice as hard and cost double price”.

“When I was there, Frédéric was always around, but he didn’t inspire much confidence. It seemed he was there more for what he could get out of it than because he really believed in the project”.

“We all know there will always be a certain amount of corruption around. However, I had a feeling – call it intuition if you like – that Frédéric’s sole aim with regard to the project was to try to make some easy money”.

“During all the meetings we had with the local authorities, Frédéric was always the one who took the lead, making everything look so simple. It was as if he’d arrived with a suitcase full of money, and was going to resolve all the problems of the country. Money can, of course resolve a lot of problems, but in the long run development solves more”.

Our conversation had lasted more than two hours. Nicholas had helped color in some of the blank spaces, but there still many gray areas left, which was a little worrying, to say the least.


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“Mr. Maia, they’re calling your flight. Have a nice flight, and good luck! I hope you can bring us back a clearer picture of what’s happening there”.

“One last thing. On my last trip to Burkina, Jonathan introduced me to Koko Gueye, his wife’s nephew. He was about to start working as Jonathan’s right-hand man at BSM. Try to look him up. He may be the key to the whole thing”.

We said good bye and as I walked to the gate, I kept going over and over what he had said, especially what he thought about Frédéric and his involvement.


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For whom the bell tolls

When I got to the gate, I still had time for a coffee and to have a look at the newspapers. The crisis on everyone’s mind in 2008 was a new ghost haunting the Old World. Chancellor Angela Merkel’s warning was on the front page of every broadsheet - The weakness of the Euro is the weakness of Europe.

This sounded rather menacing, like saying ‘it’s better to lose a ring than a finger’. The ring, in this case, represented millions of European jobs and political instability for the poorer countries.

While boarding the plane, I was still pondering the world’s financial crisis. It had started in the American real estate sector, caused by one or two unscrupulous executives, and that had plunged the whole world’s financial system into chaos (and some of these executives were still receiving huge paychecks!).

The crisis could be best summed up by quoting John Donne, a seventeenth century English poet, whose words were borrowed by Ernest Hemingway for his novel about the Spanish Civil War - For whom the bell tolls:

‘Any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde (sic); and therefore, never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee’.

Paraphrasing Donne’s analogy, you could say that when rich countries suffer, all countries will suffer, as we’re all part of one huge global society.

In contrast to the metaphysical plane, when the death of a man is only presumed to affect the lives of all the rest of men, when a rich country is suffers, the poor ones will undoubtedly suffer as well.


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How much the poor countries suffer depends on the level of globalization and the kind of relationship each has with the rich nations. It’s not relevant to ask how much they will lose in relation to the rich, but just what will be the impact on that society as a whole.

When the wealthy countries are in crisis, their economic protection systems come into action. The first thing they do is to prohibit import from the poor countries, not the other rich ones.

If a Western country, or somewhere like Japan, was to lose five per cent of its foreign trade, it would certainly will have a significant impact on their economy, but if a third world country suffered such a loss in trade it would have crippling consequences.

A crisis in the rich countries may trigger a loss in production, whereas poor countries directly dependent on the rich ones will lose much more.

That’s why, when there’s a crisis in the First World, you don’t need to ask for whom the bell tolls - it tolls for the Third World.

While I was thinking about such inequalities and individual sufferings, my plane was flying over the Western Sahara at an altitude of 39.000 ft.

Viewed from above when the sun sets and rises again, the Sahara provides us with an unforgettable palette of the most beautiful colors, alternating waves of sandy yellow and copper red, rippled with dark shadows thrown by the massive dunes.

Are the impoverished nomads, crossing that very desert by camel, aware that their lives are being affected by decisions made thousands of miles away in the boardrooms of Wall Street!


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Confidential Information

I arrived in Senegal late on a sunny afternoon.

I have a friend who lives in Dakar, a certain Boubakar Mbaye, who I met many years ago, and with whom I have a close and candid relationship.

I had sent him an email to let him know I would be coming, and he was waiting for me at the airport when I arrived. We talked over dinner.

If anyone knew about setting up a business in West Africa it was Boubakar. He was the man I most wanted to meet before going on to Burkina. I told him about my trip to Ouagadougou and the phosphates project.

“Mr. Maia, I already know about the Burkina phosphate project, and I’m delighted with the improvements along the Ouagadougou - Dakar stretch of railroad and the benefits it brings to our seaport. And anything that improves the economy in Burkina will have a knock-on effect in my part of the world”.

“The Ivory Coast is also lobbying to export the phosphates out of Abidjan. One the one hand, they’re much closer to Burkina, but on the other, we have the better sea-routes”.

He told me he had a great deal of respect for Jonathan, whom he’d met on a number of occasions.

“To me, he seems a pretty well-centered, highly educated and well-informed individual. He has already been to Dakar, to present his project to the government and to request the improvements I was talking about”.


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“Our Government is very keen to examine the pros and cons of Jonathan’s project. When it’s up and running, something like this could benefit all the countries in the West Coast region”.

“When Makeba visited Senegal he gave a lecture at the University of Dakar on Colonialism, Partnership and Development. Students from all over Africa attended, but principally those from the Sahel countries”.

“Towards the end of his speech, he told the students that the responsibility for the future development of the continent lay on their shoulders, that theirs were the brains that could transform the future of all Africa. The project in Burkina was only one of the hundreds of other projects that would be needed to put the African Continent on the globalized world map”.

“He said that they needed to generate new opportunities and new projects. Africa would only be independent if Africans took control of their own destiny, and that they were the ones who could fight for independence, not with arms as had happened in the past, but by using their brains to transform the world in which they now lived and suffered”.

“He’s an incredible speaker, and was rewarded with a loud round of applause by the students. These young idealists would go home with new ideas of how to promote development in the whole of Africa”.

“Boubakar, I’ve never met Jonathan, but the speech you just quoted reminds me of another African leader, Patrice Lumumba, the Congolese Prime Minister who, on the day the Congo won Independence in 1960, said:

‘The Republic of Congo has been proclaimed, and our country is now in the hands of its own children.


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Together, my brothers, my sisters, we are going to begin a new struggle, a sublime struggle, which will lead our country to peace, prosperity and greatness.

Together, we are going to establish social justice and make sure everyone has just remuneration for his labor.

We are going to show the world what the black man can do when he works in freedom, and we are going to make the Congo the centre of the sun’s radiance for all of Africa.

And for all that, dear fellow countrymen, be sure that we will count not only on our enormous strength and immense riches, but on the assistance of numerous foreign countries whose collaboration we will accept if it is offered freely and with no attempt to impose on us an alien culture of no matter what nature’.

“Seven months later, he was tortured and killed in a coup that was sponsored by Belgium with the tacit support of the United States”.

“You see how it is Mr. Maia? This is the modus operandi of the powers that dominate Africa. If anyone gets in their way, they simply eliminate him. And that was exactly what happened to Lumumba in the Congo, to Samora Machel in Mozambique, and to Amilcar Cabral in Guinea. They are only interested in exploiting the countries of Africa; they don’t consider then as equal trading partners”.

“And that is what Makeba is trying to change. That is his message. And it appears to me that he has succeeded in changing the perception of young Africans, who are starting to see a new type of deal with international enterprises. Such companies are neither enemies nor friends. It all depends on how the African leaders deal with them.”


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“If an African leader receives takes a kickback for giving an overseas company mineral rights in his country, and they then destroy the environment and enslave the population by paying them a pittance for their labor, and then send the mineral to be processed elsewhere, the villain of the piece is not the foreign entrepreneur, but the country’s own leader who granted the concessions.”

“This is one of Makeba’s arguments, and one which draws more and more people to listen to his speeches. African raw materials must be processed in Africa”.

“Another strong theme to which he returns time and again in his lectures, is the practice of slave-labor”, continued Boubakar.

“At the meeting I attended, he fiercely attacked this ‘new slavery’, saying that if there was any type of partnership that was worse than simply leaving the population to starve, it was the deal with the Chinese to produce food in leasehold farms on African soil!

“These farms, which already utilize more than thirty eight thousand square miles of African territory, are run using slave labor. Chinese slaves, shipped in from China, as well as African so-called “contract laborers” can still be found there, in this, the second decade of the twenty-first century!”

“This ‘modern slavery’ (if it’s possible to juxtapose those words without it being a contradiction in terms) doesn’t, as in the past, transport black slaves abroad; they are instead enslaved on their soil!”

“These lease-hold farms are slowly but surely being turned into Chinese territory, with tens of thousands of Chinese working and living in these “Little Chinas”. Did you know that more than half a million Chinese immigrants have come to Africa in the last ten years?”.

“The language spoken within these communities is Chinese or


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Mandarin; the currency used is the Yuan; the laws are Chinese, as are the daily lives and cultural routines of the inhabitants”.

“These new Chinese communities on African soil will become international enclaves that could further destabilize the already weak political situation on the whole continent!”

The Chinese presence in Africa goes against a basic international principle - the right of every nation to self-determination.

“Some advocates of the Chinese presence in Africa would argue that the Europeans have been doing much the same - sometimes even worse, and I would have to agree.

The legacy of European involvement is there for all to see - a continent destroyed by famine, despondency and disease – some of the most disgraceful conditions you could expect a people to endure.”

“But things most change in Africa in the coming centuries. We cannot afford to make the same mistakes again - mistakes that have been so expensive in the past”

“Yes, Jonathan is a fantastic speaker and a man of vision, and I guess that before long before he will be recognized as one of the great African leaders of this century”.

It was fascinating to talk with Boubakar - our conversations often lasted for hours. He taught me a lot about Africa, always having some new information about the comings and goings in the business sector.

I said goodbye to Boubakar, and thanked him for meeting me at the airport, telling him I would look him up on my return to let him know how things had gone. Then, tired by my long journey, I went to bed.


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My talk with Boubakar had left me optimistic - it seemed that Jonathan was attempting to put his theories into practice. He knew how to negotiate, and knew what he was talking about; the development of Burkina Faso and other African Nations, using their own natural resources for their own benefit.

Perhaps, who knows, we were about to witness the emergence of a great leader like Samora Machel, Agostinho Neto, Amilcar Cabral, Patrice Lumumba or Nelson Mandela.

The next morning, to my surprise, Boubakar was waiting for me at the lobby of my hotel.

“Good morning Mr. Maia. I’ve come to join you for breakfast, after which I’ll give you a lift to the airport”.

“Thanks, Bouba, that’s very kind of you”.

“No problem – it’s my pleasure”.

“There’s something I need to talk to you about that can’t wait. Last night, when I got home, I rang some friends in Ouagadougou, and I discovered the new directors of the project are having a few problems with the law, and are only staying in control thanks to the support of some of the more violent and corrupt elements in the government.”

“I talked to lots of Jonathan’s friends to try to find out what’s happened to him, but no-ones’s seen him ages”.

“The new directors are starting to contact the same sort of organizations with which Jonathan had been negotiating in the States; as you are aware, he succeeded in procuring substantial investments there, but never returned”.


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“It’s not hard to see that there’s something fishy going on here. Jonathan was on his way to New York to start up the biggest venture of his life, but he never arrived, and now you’re having to go to Ouagadougou to look for him - it’s all a bit suspicious!”

“While you’re in Ouagadougou, I’ll keep on trying to find him, so ring or email me with your number, and I’ll keep you informed of any new developments.”

“Anyway, look after yourself. It could be dangerous to ask too many questions about Jonathan, so just get on with the job of representing Canada Phosphates and collating and clarifying the information they need. Life here, Mr. Maia, can be very cheap!”

It looked as if it would be sensible to keep shtum when I got to Ouagadougou and not mention Jonathan’s disappearance. I decided that lá boca chiusa as the Italians say, was the best policy.

I boarded the plane for Ouagadougou, feeling more than a bit worried, by Boubakar’s parting comments. He knew what he was talking about when it came to the politics and economics of Africa, especially those in the Economic Community of West-African States, to which Burkina Faso and Niger belonged.


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Arriving in Ouagadougou

The flight to Ouagadougou wasn’t direct, but included a half-hour stop-over at Bamako International Airport in Mali. Stop-overs in Africa can be complicated; you know that you’ve arrived, but you don’t know when you’ll take off again, as no-one can tell you whether half an hour really is half an hour.

That day we were left sweltering in the aircraft for an hour and a half with the air conditioning switched off, waiting for the arrival of some dignitary who was running late, until finally, the doors were closed and we were cleared for take-off.

Meanwhile, I was trying to get a handle on what exactly made Jonathan Swift Makeba tick. His given name was that of a European poet (a so-called white-mans name) but his surname was pure African. A good orator with an in-depth knowledge of international economics and a clear view of the future, he looks at the African continent as a whole. His humanitarian principles put him in direct opposition to the modern ‘slavery’ prevalent in Africa. The more I knew about him, the better I would understand him.

Just after seven at night we landed at Ouagadougou International Airport, a somewhat antiquated affair. It was over five years since I had last been here, but nothing much had changed, save that it was in an even worse state of repair than I had remembered.

A minor problem at immigration delayed my arrival; an official wanted to know why, as a Brazilian, my visa had been issued in the USA. I explained that I did not apply in Brazil as I no longer lived there - I now worked in Canada, and I had to get my visa in the States as Burkina Faso didn’t have an embassy in Canada.


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Actually, all that explanation wasn’t really necessary; a five-dollar bill would have resolved the issue much quicker, but I preferred to play everything by the rules. After all, I was the Director of International Operations for Canada Phosphates, wasn’t I?

Having resolved the problem, I grabbed my suitcase and left the arrivals lounge. Two men, both smartly dressed in light suits, were waiting for me at the exit. One of them held up a sign bearing my name under that of Canada Phosphates.

I thought that only one man would be waiting for me - a Mr. Frédéric Leconte, the new President of BSM, and the one authorized to sign all correspondence with Canada Phosphates.

“Mr. Leconte? Altair Maia, Canada Phosphates”

I addressed to the taller of the two, the thick-set one with lighter skin.

But Frédéric was the smaller man, dark skinned with thinning, grayish hair, wearing spectacles and sporting a gray mustache.

“Mr. Maia, welcome to Ouagadougou! This is Jean Luc, my partner at BSM”

After the usual greetings (the Canada Phosphates business card produced the reaction I had expected), Luc summoned the driver, a man of about six foot, looking more like a bodyguard than a company driver. He took my suitcase as easily as lifting a feather, and we all walked to the parking lot.

Most of the cars in Ouagadougou, as in all West-Africa, are quite old. The majority are of French origin, dating back to the sixties and seventies. Our car, however, was a relatively new Mercedes. Whilst getting in, we started to talk about the city’s amenities.


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After checking in at my hotel, we discussed the agenda for the following day, and they filled me in on who was who in the BSM project.

got the impression they wanted to carry on talking, so I invited them to have dinner at the hotel’s restaurant, where we would be able to talk relatively undisturbed. They promptly accepted.

Frédéric called the waiter by name, showing they were acquainted, and ordered a bottle of whisky.

“Would you like a glass of scotch, Mr. Maia?”

I accepted only out of courtesy, because I really don’t like to drink whilst working. While slowly sipping my whisky, which I had taken on the rocks, I noticed the other two were finishing off the two liter bottle. They were, apparently, seasoned drinkers.

We talked for more than two hours. I wanted to know exactly who these guys were that were filling-in for Jonathan Makeba.

Eventually they got down to discussing the issue they had touched on several times already.

“Burkina’s Phosphate deposits are the same quality as those in Nauru, in the Pacific, the main difference being that the latter are already pretty much depleted, whereas ours still haven’t started full scale production”

“Of that I am aware, Frédéric - the Nauru phosphates were very high quality. Twenty or thirty years ago, Canada Phosphates took part in their extraction, but by the time we got involved, the deposits were almost exhausted, and their extraction caused quite a bit of pollution; still, the quality was excellent.

“However, with regard to the mine in the border region, and the monopoly you have on both sides of the border, we’ll have an opportunity to extract the mineral with minimal environmental side effects”.


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“Mr. Maia, this project is going to make us a lot of money” said Frédéric. “As far as the environment is concerned, the legislation on that matter is very vague, so no-one will bother us - don’t worry about that. Tomorrow, we have a number of meetings at which you’ll get some sort of idea of our company’s influence”.

“Yes, We’re going to make a lot of money”, echoed Jean. “Not just us, but you as well, if you’ll help us in the way we want”.

Then he embarked on a discourse I’d heard so many times before, when discussing foreign investments in Africa. It was their clear intention to apply surcharges wherever possible, and to divert part of the money earmarked for social development to their own personal accounts.

“All things are possible, gentlemen - that’s exactly why I am here today. As you will have seen in the e-mail from the President of Canada Phosphates, I have complete autonomy in this matter. Everything we decide here will automatically be rubber-stamped by our Vancouver HQ. I am here to help you in any way possible to get this project of the ground. That is my raison d’être”.

My reply was greeted with thanks. Another glass of whisky was offered and we toasted the success of the new enterprise.

“All right, gentlemen, that’s enough for today. If you’ll d excuse me I’d like to get some rest - it’s been a tiring day! Please join me for breakfast tomorrow and we can continue our conversation then”.

“Very well Mr. Maia, but there’s one last thing; do not discuss these matters with anyone in Ouagadougou. We’re trying to keep your visit quiet. There are people here who may want to sabotage our plans.

I remembered Boubakar’s warning - boca chiusa.


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“Don’t worry Mr. Leconte. I have strict instructions to talk only with you and the relevant authorities, and with no-one else. I realize that a project of this size and value is of tantamount importance for a relatively small economy like Burkina’s, and is likely to attract all kinds of prying eyes”.

That’s exactly what we’re worried about, Mr. Maia.”

I called the waiter for the check, but Frédéric insisted on putting this first dinner put on his company’s account, and duly asked the waiter to do charge it.

They made one last toast, summoned their driver and, as they were leaving, wished me goodnight, reminding me:

“We are all going to make a lot of money”.

They left the hotel very happy.


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Burkina Faso and Niger – The West Coast of Africa

The West coast was the first African region (after the Mediterranean countries in the north) to be explored by Europeans.

In the second half of the fourteenth century the Portuguese started to tame the region, beginning with the archipelagos of The Azores, Madeira, The Canary Islands and Cape Verde. In middle of the fifteenth century they disembarked on the continent of Africa itself, first in the Senegal region establishing settlements dotted all the way down to South Africa. Rounding the Cape of Tortures (today the Cape of Good Hope), with its turbulent waters, needed a little more time. This finally happened in1488.

With the discovery of the Americas, and thanks to an economic system centered round the slave trade, Trade Routes opened up from Europe to North America and Brazil, and from Brazil to Africa.

Europe supplied the needs of Brazil, and in turn Brazil provided what the African kingdoms wanted in exchange for slaves.

Trade between Brazil and Africa was, therefore, almost a closed economic system in itself. Strong relationships were formed between the African rulers and Brazil. Nothing could happen on one side of Atlantic without repercussions on the other. The European presence in Africa, at the beginning of the nineteenth century, consisted merely of a collection isolated outposts dotted along the coastline.

Throughout its extensive territory Africa was ruled by the Africans, the continent being divided into empires, kingdoms and city-states.


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The movement for the emancipation of slaves, begun in Britain, initiated a new European Imperialism, re-drawing the map of Africa, with the introduction of artificial “European” borders within Africa.

The macro-region of the West African Coast today comprises twenty-two countries (Benin, Burkina Faso, Ivory Coast, Gambia, Ghana, Guinea, Guinea-Bissau, Liberia, Mali, Mauritania, Niger, Nigeria, Senegal, Sierra Leone, Togo, Cameroon, Cape Verde, Chad, Congo, Equatorial Guinea, Gabon and Sao Tome and Principe).

Some countries such as Burkina Faso, Niger, Mali and Chad, are land-locked, whilst others, like Cape Verde and São Tomé e Principe, are islands.

In the ranking of the world’s poorest countries, all the top ten are African and of these, a large number are in the macro-region along the west coast.

Countries such as Burkina Faso, Chad, Mali, Niger, Guinea Bissau, Guinea Conakry, Liberia and Sierra Leone can be found bringing up the rear in the list of the world’s developing nations.

Both Niger and Burkina border on the Sahara Desert to the north. Southern Burkina adjoins Ghana, while Niger shares an extensive border with Nigeria.

The climates of both Niger and Burkina are very similar, with Savannah forming the predominant element, with some forested areas in the south, and a dryer climate to the north. A large part of Niger is in the Sahara Desert.

The forest reserves of Burkina Faso are home to many endangered animal species, such as elephants, hippos and antelopes


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Tourism, which could be a good source of income, is not properly exploited, because of the risks inherent in a trip to either of these countries.

Burkina, with a territory one hundred and five thousand square miles and a population of just fewer than fifteen million, is a relatively densely populated country. Niger, with nearly five hundred thousand square miles, is one of the larger countries of Africa. With a population of less than thirteen million, Niger is very sparsely populated, especially in the North, were there are less than thirty inhabitants per square mile.

The population of both countries is overwhelmingly Muslim. In Burkina about sixty percent of the population are followers of Islam, while in Niger the percentage is over ninety percent.

The less palatable side of the culture of these two peoples, as in all countries of the Sahel, (in common with many others in Africa and the Middle East), is the practice female genital mutilation.

This traditional custom, which consists of the removal, at an early age, of a girl’s clitoris, is carried out with minimum standards of hygiene, leading, in thousands of cases, to death or lifelong suffering.

Various worldwide organizations campaign against this ignominious practice, organizing debates to promote its abolition and condemnation in international tribunals.

French colonization, when Burkina was still Upper Volta, bequeathed French as the official language, although local dialects, such as Moré and Dioula, are widely spoken. There exist several areas where French is not spoken at all.

In Niger, which was incorporated into French West Africa in 1896, Hausa and Tuareg as well as French, are in common use, though again there are some regions were only the native languages are generally spoken.


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The economic situation is very similar on both sides of the border. Burkina is primarily agricultural, with almost all of the population practicing subsistence farming. The variations in rainfall directly affect food production throughout the Sahel. Periods of prolonged drought, which have increased in recent years, have been responsible for hunger and poverty in both countries.

Niger, whose economy is also based on subsistence farming, had an economic boom in the seventies, with the mining and export of uranium. When the price of this commodity fell, Niger’s economy went back to normal, returning to an essentially agricultural basis.

It should be pointed out that both countries are heavily dependent on international aid, which has dwindled in recent years due the uncertainties of political and economic life, as well as to the dubious uses to which such aid has been put in the past.

The creation of WAEMU - the West African Economic and Monetary Union - in 1994, and its implementation in 2001, gave more economic stability to its signatory members.

This block, comprising Benin, Burkina Faso, the Ivory Coast, Mali, Niger, Senegal and Togo and Guinea-Bissau, instituted a unified Central Bank, which sets monetary policy for all member countries, with a single currency, the CFA Franc (or Xof), which circulates in all eight countries

The conversion of the Xof into other currencies is free and the rate of exchange is linked to the Euro. This conversion rate is not tied into the constitution of each country, as had happened in Argentina, and which had ended up nearly bankrupting the country. Changes to the rate must have the agreement of all eight countries. The internal problems of any one of these countries would not affect or alter the policies of the others


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This new West African currency has brought greater stability to international business relations, and has been responsible for generating the business confidence necessary to increase the development of trade at an international level.


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The Sahel

Sandwiched between the Sahara Desert and the forested areas of Central Africa, is a wide strip of land called the Sahel which, in the Tuareg language, means border or frontier.

This “frontier” stretches from Senegal and Mauritania on the Atlantic, all the way to Djibouti and Eritrea on the Red Sea, and Somalia on the Indian Ocean.

From one end to the other, the Sahel extends for nearly four thousand miles, with a width varying from as little as one hundred and twenty-five miles at its narrowest point, to more than four hundred and thirty miles at the widest. In total, This area covered by the Sahel is more than 1 million square miles.

The very dry climate in areas bordering the Sahara registers very low levels of rainfall. However, in the region close to central Africa, the rainfall reaches up to 1000 mm per year, enabling large areas to be used for agricultural purposes.

In the nineteen-seventies this part of the region suffered severe drought which was responsible for the deaths of many thousands of people. This led to the creation of the International Fund for Agricultural Development - IFAD.

The Fund operates as a UN agency, and is intended to provide direct funding for specific programs which aim to promote the economic development of the poorer regions, principally by improving agricultural productivity.


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A million square miles brought almost to breaking point by food shortages; large areas suitable for agriculture, and a UN agency with the ability to finance projects, large or small, in order to increase agricultural productivity in the poorer areas. All this turned the Sahel into one of the regions most likely to receive the support and assistance of the IFAD.

All these variables, however, are dependant on the cost of transportation to and from the region, the availability of fertilizers, and sufficient “know how” to increase agricultural development.

A fertilizer plant within the Sahel region was all that was needed.

At the same the time that Jonathan had been negotiating with Fertilizers Inc., he also started negotiations with the UN, and with the Governments of the Sahel countries themselves, discussing the time it was likely to take to get the fertilizer plant in Burkina up and running.

By the time Jonathan was summoned to New York these negotiations were already at an advanced stage.

What he was after was not financing in the form of repayable loans; this approach could be used for the first couple of years. What Jonathan wanted, was for the UN put into practice the idea of paying aid directly to the poorer countries.

In other words, he wanted the offices of IFAD to analyze and study the loan applications of each individual country, or at least in the areas most affected by hunger and misery. The aid could then be paid directly in tons of fertilizer, not in hard cash, thereby avoiding increased bureaucracy and preventing the corruption traditionally inherent in such aid payments.


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The African Sahel

The Sahel, more than four thousand miles long and, on average, two hundred

and eighty miles wide, covers an area of more than a million square miles. It

encompasses Senegal, Mauritania, Mali, Burkina Faso, Niger, parts of Nigeria, Chad,

Sudan, Ethiopia, Eritrea, Djibouti and Somalia.


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A Zone in Permanent Conflict

Where there is a lack of food there are always problems. And in the Sahel there is certainly no shortage of problems.

Within the Sahel is a region, which, in addition to all the usual problems arising from a lack of food, water, medicine, and sanitation, has an additional problem overshadowing all others; religious and racial intolerance.

The Sudan, a country with a population of more than forty million, has been living for many years with one of the bloodiest civil wars the world has ever seen. Since the conflict began more than fifteen years ago, an estimated two million people have been killed, and even more have been sent to concentration camps in the Darfur region of South-Western Sudan, where hunger, poverty and disease are rife.

The war is between the Arab Muslims in the north, and the Catholic and animistic southerners. The backdrop to the conflict is oil, and the dominant influence of the waters of the Nile.

Arab groups, in the northern part of the country, armed by the government in Khartoum, promote a wanton killing of “non-Arab” peoples through summary execution or confinement in concentration camps where there is little or no hope of survival.

The war in Sudan has long since lost whatever sense of direction it once may have had. All that remains there is mass slaughter, with armed militias fighting against unarmed civilians.


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The recent decision of the south to secede from the north, following a plebiscite overseen by the UN, may mean the end of this conflict, but possibly the beginning of another of even larger proportions. May God and Allah help these wretched people!


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The first day at work in Burkina

The first day I went down for breakfast, Jean and Frederic were already waiting.

Our plans for the day included meetings with various authorities connected with the project. A second day would be needed for a field visit to get the lie of the land of the Dori region in the North of the country.

Whilst having breakfast, Frédéric outlined our plans for the day which included visits to the Ministries of Mines and Agriculture.

At lunchtime we had would be meeting the Finance Minister, whose department regulated all money entering or leaving the country. I was hoping to find out at this meeting what had happened to the twenty percent of investment which seemed to have ‘disappeared’.

The meeting with the Minister of Energy was a mere formality. It was only necessary for him to rubber stamp the decisions which Frédéric had already made.

“Mr. Maia, every single foreign investment is very welcome here in Burkina. As Frédéric has already explained, our Government will do everything possible to help with this project.”

“Frederic is ideally suited to this kind of work, and is au fait with everything needed to make things run smoothly. All of Frederic’s decisions have our full and unwavering support. Frédéric swelled with pride at the Minister’s every word”.

“Mapping out the region has been completely finished” he went on.


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“The part of the mine which extends under the territory of Niger is little more than twenty per cent, not thirty as we had originally thought”.

It was obvious that the Minister’s intention was to reduce the percentage of royalties that would have to be paid to Niger. I replied that I thought it was better to leave the project as already been agreed.

“To change the percentage at this stage might give the Niger authorities the feeling of being side-stepped” I continued, offering the minister food for thought.”

“After all, Minister, if we want to develop the whole region, we cannot afford to increase the tension on the border area by reducing the royalties paid to Niger”.

“You are of course right Mr. Maia. It is better to leave everything the way it is. Reducing the royalties paid to Niger could create many additional problems”.

Our meeting lasted less than an hour. We then went straight to the Ministry of Land, where we were due to have our second meeting of the day.

The Government of Burkina, through the Ministry of Land, had provided part of the land where the Burkina Mining Company project would be located. The government of Niger had ceded the rest.

This concession was free for ninety-nine years, but the licensee had to comply with various technical criteria.

The main criterion concerned manual labor. The licensee could not use more than five percent of foreign labor, in any capacity whatsoever.

This criteria regarding local labor had been mentioned by Jonathan in his original plans, in order to secure jobs


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for the people of his native land. The proportion of jobs available to the people of Niger would be proportional to the percentage of land provided by that country.

“There are some other details, Mr. Maia, that have not been written down, but which will still need to be dealt with”, he said.

“Five percent of the produce of the factory must be donated to a company nominated by the Ministry, to be distributed to farmers of the border region, in order to avoid possible retaliation”.

Distributed to farmers of the border region? This sounded a bit suspicious.

With five percent of the produce, they could probably dominate the country’s internal market, making the price fluctuate according to their needs. In addition, some agricultural inputs are always a useful bargaining chip in forging political alliances and agreements.

“Five percent of the produce of any industry is going to affect the price level, Minister. To absorb five percent within the internal costs will cost us our international competitiveness”.

“I cannot believe that, Mr. Maia. The former president of BSM has already gained the agreement of the company with which he was negotiating in New York to do just that! Therefore, if another company was willing to absorb the five percent, why can’t Canada Phosphates?”

For the first time since I had arrived in Burkina, Jonathan Makeba was being quoted, though without mention of his name; even if it was in order to support a dubious claim, Jonathan had finally been mentioned.

The man was patently bluffing. At no time in the original plans did Jonathan mention any donations to anyone.


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“Well Minister, I will discuss the matter with Frederic to see how we can sort it out. We will try to incorporate the five percent. If we can leave here with everything firmly agreed, we should have no problems getting the approval of our board. Frederic can oversee the presentation of the figures”.

The minister was obviously pleased with the way things were going. Five percent of the total production of phosphate for him and his associates. That would be enough to keep them in power for a long time.

It was just after one o’clock when we got to the restaurant where we were scheduled to have our third meeting of the day. The short time it took us to walk down the street was long enough to feel the dryness of the air and the scorching heat. As soon as we arrived we asked the waiter to bring us some soda water.

We had hardly had time to sit down before Frederic’s phone rang. It was the Finance Minister, the country’s chief bean-counter. He would not be able to make the meeting – something more important had come up. Our meeting had been postponed until five in the afternoon at the Minister’s office.

The waiter served us some soft drinks, all imported, and we ate lunch while waiting for the time to pass. Jean wanted to go through some of the figures relating to the project, but Frederic persuaded him against it.

“Leave it for later Jean”, he said.

“We can make all the adjustments at the same time. Doing it bit by bit will take more time in the long run”

We’ll make all the adjustments at the same time. This sounded ominous; there was obviously more to come.

At four-thirty in the afternoon we were in the Finance Minister’s waiting room. When the secretary asked us to step into the boardroom it was a little after five.


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The conference table was large and impressive. The Minister himself was young, black, and thin with a

circumspect appearance. I suppose he couldn’t have been more than forty-five.

“Good afternoon Mr. Maia. Sorry for the delay. My superior wanted to know all about this project. I am pleased to say he is now a little better informed”.

“Good afternoon Mr. Djaura” I replied, addressing him by name. It’s good to know that your superior is in agreement with our negotiations. His endorsement is of the utmost importance when we’re dealing with such a large investment.”

“On that Mr. Maia, you can rest assured. He has total confidence that Frédéric and I understand this investment in the minutest detail.”

“But we’d better get to work. As you know, Mr. Maia, Burkina is a very poor country. Our government is constantly struggling against a lack of resources, both internally and externally”.

“Internally, the adoption of the CFA franc as the single currency of the UEMOA has brought some stability to our region. Now we have some sort of reference point”.

”Externally, as well as the revenue we receive from export and import duty, which, by the way, is very little, we are imposing an additional tax of twenty percent on all foreign investments”.

“So, Mr. Maia, all remittances from abroad, whether paid to companies or private individuals in Burkina Faso, are taxed at twenty percent as a contribution to the social development of the country”, the minister said.


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“However” interrupted Frédéric, “the phosphate project has been made exempt from this tax, Mr. Maia”.

“Very good, gentlemen, that will give us a little more room to work”.

Exemption from the tax was one of the conditions that Frédéric had already told me by e-mail. (In fact Jonathan’s original project had already mentioned that this exemption had been agreed in order to attract the investment). But the draft version that Frédéric had shown me had not made this clear.

“However, Mr. Maia, in the case of this project the tax will continue to be levied, even though it is exempt. Twenty percent will still be charged, and will then be credited to overseas accounts created specifically for such a purpose”.

”We are counting on your ability to make Canada Phosphates agree to this rate. After all, the monopoly granted to your company will be worth infinitely more than that”.

This was really starting to pour cold water on the plans of Phosphates Inc. I had assumed that the five per cent of the produce was to all intents and purposes a “pay out”. And yet, here I was looking at an indisputable fact: a further twenty percent of all money invested in the project would be similarly ‘diverted’.

Money which was being levied as a tax was not destined for the public coffers; instead it would end up in private bank accounts.

“This money, Mr. Maia, will serve to lubricate the public machinery and avoid any problems. Anything that you need from the Government of Burkina will be made readily available”.


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“The people who will benefit from this money hold positions which are strategically important to our goals, and were placed there in order to make life easier. And of course, Mr. Maia, if you agree, we can arrange for two or three per cent of this money to be deposited into any account that you care to nominate”.

“Thank you, Minister. Although only three per cent, this represents a great deal of money. And you yourselves will get the other seventeen per cent?”

I made these remarks to indicate that I too was interested in getting my cut.

“That is correct Mr. Maia. This is the plan! We have a lot of ‘partners’ here in Burkina, and everyone will certainly want their slice of the cake!”

“I understand the situation perfectly Minister. But you must agree that a drain on resources of one fifth of the investment will play havoc with the calculations we’ve already made”.

“All our calculations relied on the tax exemption as an incentive for our investment. We will need to do a lot of work to recalculate the figures to take into account these new disbursements. And it is not only a matter of “accommodating” the new numbers, it also means that we will have to invest at least thirty per cent more than originally planned, and that represents a serious additional financial outlay”.

“And what about the social investments foreseen in the project - will we be obliged to carry them out? If so, this requires yet more resources and once again will reduce our profit margin.`

“You will not need to spend that much. We are arranging a covenant with the Department of Taxation, under which The Ministry will meet seventy-five per cent of our


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costs: for each dollar provided by the project for social improvements, the Ministry will pay three. So, if a school is going to cost twenty thousand dollars; we will say it’s costing for forty thousand. BSM will pay ten thousand and the Ministry thirty thousand. There will be lots of money to spare!”

“Our country receives many donations from abroad Mr. Maia. Such social action by the BSM as building schools, health posts and so on, will serve to justify these donations. The organizations who make these donations will see new things starting to happen in Burkina

“With the money that is left over, we will be able to provide a slush fund we can use to “compensate” some of our associates in the forthcoming elections and thereby increase our support base”.

“Well gentlemen, the financial engineering appears to be perfect. But we still have to revamp all the figures within the project in order to hide the twenty percent rebate, as we need to account for all the money invested.

“We will also need to take into the social investments such, as the promise to build two hundred schools; we can’t just build twenty”.

“Don’t worry about such details Mr. Maia. All this has

already been taken care of. Every nut and bolt has been well oiled. All we are waiting for now is the arrival of the investment”.

They appeared to have an answer to everything. Djaura was obviously the brains behind the whole scheme.

This meeting concluded the official part of my visit. It was obvious that the project “Phosphates in Burkina” was either going to work they way they wanted or not at all. We went back to the hotel to examine the worksheets for the project.


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How on earth were we going to take the initial hundred percent of the investment, use only eighty, lose five in production, make social investments of twenty, and then manage to persuade the investors that all the investment has been properly applied?

This was the ‘conjuring trick’ that was to jeopardize the future good operation of the project.


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The Future of the Project, or a Project with no Future?

The scheme would certainly work in the short term, whilst the project was still being implemented; at any given point they could claim that there were construction delays, excessive rainfall, border tensions or one of a dozen other excuses.

Some time later, after the inauguration and when the project was in operation, it would go totally kaput. It would end up being done in a very half-hearted way, and would certainly not be anything like the project envisaged by Mr. Jonathan Makeba.

The international insurance companies would pay part of Phosphates Canada’s losses, and the people of the region, who had been hoping for better days, would be no better off after the project had failed.

The experience of Canada Phosphates would be just another in a long line of unsuccessful projects in Africa, and the risk of making investments on the African continent to would once more continue to rise.

It was the same story I have seen with dozens of projects in many African countries. Many well-intentioned men had seen their projects go awry, leaving behind only empty shells of buildings. Others, not so well-intentioned, had abandoned their projects, leaving Africa with their offshore accounts overflowing with money.

I remember a project that I came across some

time ago. A business consortium wanted to take over the rights of a vegetable oil plant. The Local Authority had ceded land on a 99 year lease.


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The machinery had cost eight million dollars, and the installation costs were more than two million.

The factory was inaugurated six years ago. It was in production for less than a year and then closed due to a lack of raw materials. Unbelievable! A project which had been studied and analyzed by experts from several large institutions has to close its doors because of a shortage of raw material! To cap it all, the local guerrilla movement broke into the factory and made off with anything of any value.

The financial engineering had been simple. An international body had provided funds for the machinery and facilities, which had been billed at twice their original price. The government of the country where they were installed had endorsed the product along with the funding body. The debts were eventually met out of the public coffers.

The money which was left over had made everyone rich; the machine manufacturers, the entrepreneurs who set up the factory, and the authorities who endorsed the funding.

When everything went wrong, everyone received their cut, and the debts owed to financial investors simply became part of the country’s overseas debt. Less happy, for obvious reasons, were the people who had pinned their hopes for their and their children’s future by working at the factory.

In order to break even they then sold their investment to anyone with money to spare, possibly another group that was interested in buying it in order to start a new scam.

In the case of BSM, to instigate the project with this bunch in charge would simply be throwing their money away. It would be stupid. It would be madness. With the passage of time the project would be another “White elephant” buried in the African Savannah.


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Confirming the bluff

As we tried to perform conjuring tricks with the billion dollar investment that would be needed for the project, Frédéric and Jean, this time accompanied by the driver, spent most of their time consuming large measures of whisky.

We broke for dinner, and after we had eaten, it was the same routine as before.

“The bill is on us” said Frederic, motioning the waiter to put it on his account. I thanked him kindly. Jean Luc once more repeated his words of the previous evening:

“We’re going to make lots of money”. He certainly seemed convinced that our endeavors would be a success.

After dinner I went upstairs to my apartment and, for the first time, decided to use the satellite phone that Kate had provided me with. I called the Fertilizers Inc. in New York, where it was still only five o’clock in the afternoon.

Kate answered promptly.

“Good evening Mr. Maia! Everything okay with you? The flight connections were OK?”

I told her everything was in order, and then asked to speak to Tony Sallinger, and was promptly put through.

I told him briefly about everything that was happening, and then asked if he knew about the “bonus” of five percent of production which to be given to farmers in the border region.


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”I know nothing about that, Mr. Maia. Everything that was negotiated with Jonathan was all above board”.

”That’s what you think Tony. The Land Minister is an expert when it comes to bluffing. But don’t worry, tomorrow morning we’ll be going to the border region to visit the proposed site of the project”.

”In fact, they say one thing but mean another. With regards to tomorrow’s trip to the border region, I’m going to see if I can get hold of Douda Moussula. I think it’s very important that I should meet him”.

”In theory our visit is only up to the project area”, I added. ”If we go direct the project area, its a round trip of about two hundred and fifty miles. , I think we’ll be there and back in a day. But if we go first to Niamey, and then to project region, we’ll have to revise our route, traveling to Dori then back to Ouagadougou, In which case we would have to stay overnight in Niamey. The round trip is over six hundred miles”.

”Anyway, if you are able to speak to Moussula, send me an e-mail; I don’t want to answer the phone if I have company. Reading a message is a lot more discreet than talking on the phone!”

”I’ll do better than that, Mr. Maia. If can get hold of

Moussula, I will ask him to contact you and invite you and Frederic to meet him there”. I said goodnight to Sallinger and finally got to bed very late. Tomorrow was going to be another a long day.


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The Visit to Niger

I was joined by three people at breakfast – Frédéric, Jean and the driver. The bill for breakfast was charged to my room, unlike the cost of dinner, taken with whisky, which was normally charged to their account.

“We need to go to Niamey”, said Frédéric. Niger’s Minister for Social Integration wants to meet you. He rang me last night, when he found out that you were visiting Burkina - he must have a contact here in Ouagadougou who told him you were here.”

“We’ll have to stay overnight in Niamey, so I’ve already booked a hotel. It’s impossible to do the return trip in one day”. Salinger must have been able to speak to Moussala, I thought.

We left Ouagadougou around eight o’clock in the morning. We took the car and headed towards Niger. We had a trip of more than two hundred and fifty miles ahead of us.

On outskirts of town the driver stopped the car, got out and opened the trunk. He returned wielding a shotgun which he gave to Jean, who was in the front passenger seat, and a revolver, which he put in the glove compartment. That done we went on.

“On ne sait jamais (you never know)” he said, making one of his rare utterances.

The road was part paved and part dirt-track, but throughout the whole journey, pot-holes and dust were a constant aggravation. When driving along the un-surfaced sections, the driver had to slow down, as you could hardly see anything at all due to the clouds of dust kicked up by the vehicle.


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We passed many people walking along the side of the road; the majority were women dressed in brightly colored garb, with baskets, laden with wares, balanced on their heads, and babies strapped to their backs.

In many parts of Africa, the woman is the main breadwinner of the family, In addition to which she still has to look after her home, her husband and her children.

Halfway to Niamey we stopped at a village called Fada to get something to eat, having had a very quick breakfast. I’m not a particularly picky eater, but I soon lost my appetite when I saw that the only food on offer was teeming with flies.

We returned to the car to continue or journey. Shortly before noon we reached the frontier with Niger. Crossing the border was just a formality; we were waved through by the guards and found ourselves in Niger.

Niamey was now only about thirty miles away. The roads however were much worse, and it took more than two hours to complete this final section.

Just before two o’clock we crossed the bridge which leads into the city of Niamey, which is on the left bank of the River Niger; the bridge, curiously, is called J. F. Kennedy.

The River Niger, which means “river of rivers” in the Tuareg dialect, rises in the mountains of Guinea Conakry, flowing north towards the Mediterranean, cutting through the Sahara Desert. It then turns sharply, and returns the middle of Africa, finally discharging into the Atlantic on the Nigerian coast. More than two and a half thousand miles long, its source was a mystery for centuries. To all intents and purposes, it was simply the ‘river that came from the desert’.

If, in the words of the historian Herodotus, Egypt is ‘the gift of the Nile’ then Niger could certainly by called the gift of the river whose name it bears.


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After crossing the bridge, narrow and shaky, we finally arrived in Niamey. A few minutes later we were at the hotel. Check-in done, we went up for a quick shower to wash of some of the dust, and then set off to meet Douda Moussula.


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A Friendly Meeting in Niamey

Douda Moussula welcomed enthusiastically. He was short, thin, and dark skinned, with white hair and intelligent eyes.

He talked endlessly. He wanted to show us that for its part, Niger was ready to begin work on the project.

They had already embarked on a road improvement program, and their House of Representatives had approved a project which allowed the free movement of people and goods within the border region. This region, to the north of the border with Burkina, would be transformed into an Industrial Free Zone.

He wanted to know the value of phosphates to the world economy, to where we were thinking of exporting the mineral, and how much was destined for the Sahel region.

“Douda”, I said, “the world’s food requirements are constantly increasing, and agricultural regions are not getting any bigger. Therefore, the land we plant must become more productive each year, and that can only be done with the help of technology”.

“When we talk about the prospective market, we are talking primarily about Burkina and Niger - the BSM Project will greatly help to improve the agricultural output of both countries, and with United Nation’s assistance we can include the entire Sahel region, as well as helping to fight hunger in various other parts of the world”

Continuing to focus on numbers, projections and our hopes for a better future, the meeting lasted more than an hour, during which Frédéric


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and Jean spoke little, just providing various items of information when they were asked.

As we left, I invited Douda to have dinner with us at the hotel, and he gladly accepted my invitation.

Dinner was scheduled for eight-thirty. Douda was right on time.


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Jonathan Makeba Comes to Dinner

Douda Moussula was clearly pleased with our visit and our plans for the project.

We talked about local and international politics and, of course, the globalization of the Burkina and Niger economies, which should soon appear on the world economic map, once the project got started.

I asked if he would like a glass of wine, to which he responded in the affirmative.

Frédéric had ordered two liters of whisky for himself, Jean and the driver, and they got stuck into it straight away. When the waiter proffered the wine for approval, I referred him to Douda, and soon we were both enjoying a glass of excellent South African red.

Douda lifted his glass made a toast to the success of the Burkina-Niger project. We all joined him. Then he turned to Frédéric and addressed him directly:

“What happened to Jonathan Makeba, Frédéric? I regarded him as my friend, but he never told me he was leaving the project!”

“Well, we had a few disagreements over the management of the project, so we offered him a deal, and he accepted. If he’d wanted, he could have bought us out, but he preferred to sell. Then, as far as we know, he went to America and never returned. His departure was somewhat abrupt. We were told that he had gone to the States - I thought he was going to sign an initial contract with Fertilizers Inc.”.


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“Yes” replied Douda, “The last time we spoke he told me he had been summoned to New York to sign the contract. We were all very hopeful, as we thought that finally we had something to celebrate here in Niger. So when I received your email informing me about the change in management, I was very surprised. Since then I have been trying to contact him, but with no success”.

“Now” replied Frédéric, “Jean and I intend to go ahead with the project as quickly as possible, to try to make up for lost time. The proposed partnership between Niger, Burkina and Canada Phosphates is going to last a long time” Frédéric added, clearly uneasy with the direction the conversation was taking.

“I have no doubts as to your capabilities, Frédéric. I can only reiterate that Jonathan is something of a legend; a man of principles and a true African visionary. At home, I have a collection of articles he’s written, in which he explains, over and over again, his ideas to combat corruption in his country. Eventually the authorities here in Niger are going to start feeling a little uneasy”.

“I’ve never met Mr. Makeba, but I have heard so many good things about him”, I interjected. “I’d really like to get to know him”.

“That’s right, Mr. Maia. His expertise and goals are not limited merely to the processing of raw materials in Africa itself - they go far beyond that”.

“He once told me about a visit he had paid to a farm in Congo, which had been leased to the Chinese. He came back disgusted. According to him, the way it was run was tantamount to slave labor – they even used whips. There, he had heard stories of native workers who had been given floggings in which they were given thirty or more lashes”.

“He hasn’t completely written off the possibility of partnerships with


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the Chinese, but their modus operandi would have to be reviewed and strictly controlled if the want to operate in African territory. Whenever he can he takes the opportunity to speak out strongly against this new form of slavery”.

“On another occasion he told me that he had found out about an excision which was about to be performed on a three year old girl. He had called the police, but when they arrived at the scene the procedure had already taken place. The girl had died soon after, and no action was taken against the perpetrators.

He is strongly opposed to this barbaric practice, and often refers to it in his lectures”.

“So that’s Jonathan Makeba. He gives his total support and blessing to good causes, and tries to fight those he believes are wrong. You must get to meet him - one day he’s going to be one of the greatest leaders there has been, not just in the Sahel, but in whole of Africa”.

“I once took him to Niamey to give a lecture to a trade organization. His speech was quite lengthy and the entrepreneurs and dignitaries present listened while he talked about the past and the future, the oppressors and the oppressed, and the old and new ways of conducting international trade”.

“He spoke at length about the energy question, his theory being that you can’t have self-determination until you have your own source of energy. You don’t need to dominate the energy market, but you must have at least one source”.

“That’s absolutely right, Douda” I replied. “Without its own energy source a country will always be at the mercy of the world oil markets.

A power supply gives you the potential for change. If a country produces oil, even without the processing capacity, it still has something


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it can exchange for other commodities - even for other sources of energy”.

“Exactly. South of the Sahara there really are only two oil producing countries - Angola and Nigeria. Other countries have oil, but very little. And then there is South Africa where nuclear energy is produced”.

“This energy issue was one of the main planks in Makeba’s speech - he wants every African country to produce its own energy; if not oil, then solar or wind power, or bio-fuels. And in order to produce bio-fuels, we once again need phosphates and a good deal of agricultural know-how. This is where phosphate really comes into its own; it helps us to produce both food and bio-fuels”.

“There are countries in Africa that waste more than half their foreign income on buying diesel for their energy generators. If they could develop a program to produce bio-fuels, it would reduce or even eliminate the dependency on diesel”.

“That’s what Jonathan believes concerning production and consumption in each country; to have electricity in every home. We must also to go ahead with the industrialization programs, at the lowest possible cost, and have a strong agricultural base and the know-how to produce food, so that we can banish famine and misery. Yet another reason we need to find a major international company which is willing to invest in the mine”.

“By the time he’d finished speaking, everyone had a new perspective of the African continent and its potential. People were talking about Jonathan’s ideas for many weeks afterwards”.

“It was impressive to see how a simple lecture about this new potential could lift people’s self-esteem. I keep thinking about the effect the mine would have when it reached full production. It’ll not only change the


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income level of our people, it will also change the way most Africans view the future”.

“I believe that too, Douda. That’s why it is so important to include these social investments. The rise in income level helps to put money in the African’s wallet, while the social investment will put hope in his heart”.

“I really believe in what Jonathan wants to achieve with his plans for the agricultural development in the Sahel”, added Douda. “I am the spokesman in Niger for the project, but both the authorities and the population are anxious to see the start of production. We all believe a new era is dawning for Burkina and Niger, together with the other countries of the Sahel, and indeed for the rest of Africa.

We also believe it will be good for international relations. The world will start to look at Africa through different eyes”.

“This big economic revival in Africa will turn the agricultural industry on its head, and this in turn, Jonathan believes, will be an influence for good on the political situation, with a higher degree of democracy and freedom, and the government restricted to its proper functions”.

Every time our conversation returned to the subject of Jonathan Makeba, I could see that Frédéric and Jean became increasingly uncomfortable. But each time they tried to change topics, Douda picked up the subject again - it was as if Jonathan himself was physically present in the room.

We continued talking for three more hours that night, but at last, we stood up and accompanied Douda to the hotel entrance. It was already late and the next day was going to be even more exhausting.

Before he left Douda embraced me, which is not common among Muslims, and whispered:


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“Try to find Jonathan. Do this for me!”

I was somewhat taken aback by this. It was obvious that Douda was seriously worried about Jonathan, and had a number doubts and suspicions concerning his disappearance.

Try to find Jonathan. Do this for me. It kept on ringing in my ears.

They were clearly more than just acquaintances or businessmen. They were partners in a big social project on which they had jointly embarked, a project that could elevate the region from its current state of misery and degradation.


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Visiting the Burkina SociétéMinière Project

At breakfast I noticed that Frédéric seemed a little dissatisfied with what had happened the night before. He said little, only that we had to leave within half an hour, because the return trip would be longer than we had foreseen. We would need to enter Burkina from the North, through the area which was due to become a free-zone when the phosphate project went ahead.

I asked the hotel receptionist for my check. To my surprise, I found that all four nights’ accommodation, together with four breakfasts, dinner from the previous night and a liter bottle of whisky, had all been charged to my room.

In total it was just over one thousand and three hundred dollars. I paid with my credit card, grabbed my hat and went down the main stairs. On the other side of the street my three companions were already waiting in the car. We left as soon as I got in. It was a little after seven in the morning.

To return to Ouagadougou via Dori, the project region, there were two alternative routes.

The first was to go once again via the J F Kennedy Bridge, turn right onto Boulevard Du Gourma, and then continue on the N4 highway for about forty-five miles by the side of the Niger River, until we reached a town called Gotheye. From there to the project region was a little over one hundred and thirty miles.

The second option was to follow the left side of the Niger, going


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along the N1. We would have to cross the river close to Gotheye. Frédéric said he preferred the latter option because the roads were better.

After we had driven about forty miles, we arrived at the river-crossing. There was no bridge; we were to cross by raft which they referred to as ‘the ferry’. There was an enormous line of cars and people waiting in front of us, all waiting to cross the river.

After a long wait we finally got on board. The driver parked the car on the raft, whilst we, the passengers, boarded on foot. There were eight other cars on the raft, and together we crossed the great river Niger in no time at all.

After the crossing, the highway parted company with the river, and went westwards, towards the savannah. The average speed with which we approached Burkina got slower and slower as the road got worse and worse. Some stretches were little more than dirt-tracks. The asphalt, if it had ever been there, had disappeared long ago. At one point I thought we were lost, but then I saw a road sign saying Dori - 50 miles.

The project was due to take place near Dori, a little town of about five thousand inhabitants. Its dusty dirt roads, its poorly maintained huts, and its open sewer gave us a perfect picture of the difficulties of life in that area.

We drove half-way down Dori’s main street and then turned right, as if turning back towards the border. Some six miles further on, we stopped near a barbed-wire fence, on which a metal plaque announced: Burkina Société Minière – BSM. We had finally arrived!

Jean got out of the car and opened the gate, also made with barbed wire, and we entered the stretch of land that had the potential to re-write the history of Burkina.


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All twenty square miles of terrain lay within a valley shaped like an irregular elongated rectangle. The only vegetation was a low undergrowth, typical of the African savannah. A small hut nearby looked as if it doubled as an office.

We were met by an elderly man who was missing one leg. I assumed he must be the security guard – he seemed to be the only one here. This ‘guard’ greeted Frédéric with a degree of coldness; indeed, he didn’t look very pleased to see him.

Inside the hut there was a table and some old seats. In one corner, separated from the rest by a little wall, stood another table with some kitchenware, and an old camping bed. The low roof, made of zinc sheets, transformed the room into a sauna. The heat was unbearable – it was almost noon and the sun was at its height.

“Let’s go outside and have a look round” said Jean. The sweat on his forehead was running down his face.

At three in the afternoon we set off on foot, via an old trail, with Frédéric explaining what exactly was going to be done, and where and how it was going to happen.

The driver had parked the car under the shade of a little tree and waited for us there.

At various points along the trail, I noticed deep shafts, which must have been dug to collect phosphate samples for laboratory analysis. In other places there were clear signs of excavation which had presumably been done in order to extract the fertilizer itself.

The heat was intense and the sun was scorching our skin. I always use my panama-hat when I know I’m going to be exposed to a lot of sun. On that day, however, it didn’t seem to help much, but without it I suppose it


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would have been much worse. The combination of the overhead sun and the dry air caused me to sweat profusely.

We stopped to rest for a while under the shadow of another tree. Frédéric used such moments to explain more about the project, and also said that the salaries paid would be very low, so that we would have more flexibility regarding the number of people employed; the workers in Niger were used to low wages.

While returning to the hut, after walking for about two hours, I noticed an enormous tree. A baobab! African Baobabs had always fascinated me. I had previously taken home baobab seeds during my earlier visits, so now there are Baobab trees in various Brazilian States!

“Frédéric, let’s make a small detour. I’d like to rest for a while in the shade of that tree.”

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Maia, it’s already late and we are almost back at the hut. We must carry on.

“Well, at least I’m going to take a picture of the tree. You two carry on, and after my little detour, I’ll meet you back at the hut. It’s not very far, less than a quarter of a mile I guess”.

Against their obvious will, Frédéric and Jean decided to go with me. I took some photos of the baobab and then sat down for a while to rest in its shade. I removed my hat and wiped the sweat from my face.

“Why are you so interested in the tree? Are you familiar with the baobab?” Frédéric asked.

“Yes, it’s the tree of life. I get a good feeling when I’m near one. They say that when you die, your spirit will continue to live on in a baobab. Who knows? Maybe one day our spirits will come to live here”.


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I noticed a strong, nauseating smell. It seemed to be coming from the flowers. In spite of their beauty they act as a sort of conduit to release noxious gases from under the soil.

Apparently the talk of dying didn’t appeal to Frédéric, because he wanted to get away from the tree as soon as possible.

“Let’s go now. It’s already late”, he said, visibly unhappy with the strong smell and the presence of the spirits.

I grabbed my hat and we continued our walk. When we arrived back at the hut, some thirty people, all negroes, stood waiting for us, having heard of our arrival.

The guard was speaking with them in a local, unintelligible dialect. I think it was Hausa or Swahili. As we approached they turned to Frédéric, speaking a mixture of French and local dialect.

“Monsieur, monsieur, bwana”.

Some of them addressed me, saying

“Mister, mister, bwana”...

Frédéric tried to send them away but they insisted on talking to me.

I don’t speak any French and understand only a little. But I had the distinct feeling that they were saying something about Jonathan. In this confused mixture of Tuareg, Swahili, Hausa and French, I thought I heard something like “Where is Jonathan?” or “What have they done with Jonathan?”

Frédéric, visibly annoyed, attempted to answer the mob’s questions. At one point I understood what he was saying to them, something to the effect that Jonathan was no longer with the company, but that he and Jean had taken over project.


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After a while he told them to go away and to let him pass, and he summoned the driver to help him. With his twin barrel shotgun at the ready, the driver arrived at our side, when one of the men shouted:

“Killer! Killer! Assassin!”

Killer? Assassin? These were certainly I understood. I later discovered that killer means the same in Swahili as it does in English.

Suddenly, without warning, the driver turned the twin barreled gun round and struck a fierce blow to the man’s head with its butt. Covered in blood the man fell backwards into the hut. The driver then fired a shot into the air before pointing the gun towards the mob, but they didn’t disperse; on the contrary, they merely withdrew a little and started arming themselves with the sticks and rocks that lay on the ground. Those who had been standing further away moved closer.

I feared for our lives, especially my own! A skirmish on the Burkina-Niger border wouldn’t look very good for the company!

As the driver wielded the shotgun, almost all of the men who were armed with sticks and rocks came forward from the group. If they came any closer there would be little chance of escape; perhaps the driver would be able to fire one or two shots, but only before the others beat us to death with their makeshift weapons.

They were starting to close in, but by leaps and bounds we just made it back to the car. Frédéric jumped behind the wheel while Jean and the driver threatened our assailants with their guns, Jean having grabbed the revolver from the glove box.

We left like a bat out of hell.

I remembered my father once telling me “If you need to get out a difficult situation, don’t leave so fast that it looks like you’re running away,


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or so slow that you seem to be looking for trouble”. Observing Frédéric it was obvious he had never received similar advice.

He hit the accelerator pedal with all his might and the car leapt forward, leaving a big cloud of dust in our wake. My heart was beating faster than the car engine!

“Impertinent idiots!” Frédéric was no doubt thinking.

We drove along the main drag at Dori in complete silence. The few people on the street were sheltering from the scorching sun in the shadows cast by the houses. The driver and Jean were constantly on the lookout for any trouble.

After fifteen minutes of fast driving, we stopped to swap drivers. Frédéric used this opportunity to break the silence.

“Mr. Maia, I’m sorry about all that. Those fools have no idea what they’re talking about”, he mumbled.

“It’s all right, Mr. Frédéric. These things happen”. I too had really had no idea; no idea what all that commotion had been about!

“Well, Halleluiah, we got away” I shouted.

(As soon as I had said the word “Halleluiah” I remembered too late it was probably a stupid thing to say. Devout Muslims would not themselves say Halleluiah, which means Praise God, because the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) instructed his followers not to copy the habits of the followers of other religions; if they wished to express such a sentiment they would say Alhamdulillah).

I have always tried to be sensitive about such things, not wanting to cause offence, albeit inadvertently. On one occasion, in the month of December, I had been accompanying a Brazilian businessman on a trip to a Muslim country.


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He showed me some presents which bore the traditional text Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, which he intended to give to the various entrepreneurs we were scheduled to meet. I reminded him that Muslims don’t celebrate Christmas, so a present bearing such a greeting might be taken the wrong way. As the saying goes: ‘When in Rome, do as the Romans do’

“Frederic, I’d like to know what all that trouble was about. I have to present a complete and honest report to my bosses at Canada Phosphates, and if I’m going to do that, I have to know what’s going on. I can’t keep them in the dark”.

“Various people have already spoken to me about Jonathan. Yesterday Douda Moussula said he wanted to know what’s happened to him. And today those people were demanding to know the same thing. So, where exactly is he, and why did he abandon the project when everyone seems so certain of his integrity?”

“He hasn’t abandoned the project, Mr. Maia”, replied Frédéric, visibly irritated.

“He has simply sold his shares to us, as you have already seen in the company records. And I imagine that he’s held onto the money from the company he was negotiating with in the States, since he never showed up here again”.

“He may well be a good man, but he doesn’t live in the real world. Our country is the way it is, and he’s never going to change it. He should just have let sleeping dogs lie”.

Our country is the way it is, and he’s never going to change it. He should just have let sleeping dogs lie. What was this supposed to mean?

Frédéric was clearly at boiling point. He’d already been talking very loud, but now he was starting to shout. The atmosphere was getting very


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tense - Jean too looked very uncomfortable, shuffling around in the front seat. I could tell something really drastic must have happened to Jonathan.

We were approaching Kayala, a little village half way between Dori and Ouagadougou.

“We’ll stop here for lunch, just for thirty minutes or so” Frédéric said.

While they were inside eating and drinking their whisky neat as usual, I bought a pack of cookies for a thousand Xof (about two dollars) and stayed outside, watching the world go by.

Not much was happening – there were just a couple of carts going down the road, pulled by a pair of emaciated horses. Their load consisted of dry firewood.

The street, which was little more than a dirt-track, still showed signs of the previous night’s rain. Small children, some completely naked, were playing in the mud, enjoying the opportunity, rare in this part of the country, provided by the recent rainfall. The smell of damp earth hung in the air.

After lunch, we continued our trip. The tension in the car remained high and there was complete silence. Frédéric, somewhat anesthetized by the whisky with which he had washed down lunch, leaned back in his seat and fell into a doze.

Deciding to use the opportunity to get some rest myself, I leaned back and stretched my legs, whilst looking for my hat to cover my face.

My hat? All of a sudden I remembered what had happened to it. In all the confusion at the mine, it had fallen off and rolled away in the dirt whilst I was frantically trying to get back into the car.

That was the last I would see of my Panama!


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I decided to look for my camera – it wasn’t there either! It must have gone astray at the same time. So I’d lost my hat and all my photos as well!

At this point I noticed we were crossing a bridge over a small river, its banks sparely dotted with vegetation. “What a pleasant little river”, I thought aloud. “It’s probably teeming with fish”.

My remarks were met with a silence that continued all the way to Ouagadougou.

Roadmap of the voyage across the border Burkina / Niger


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An Inconclusive Conclusion

We arrived back at the hotel in Ouagadougou around six in the afternoon. Unlike previous nights, we told the reception we wouldn’t be having dinner at the hotel. Instead the waiter was told to bring us a liter of whisky, some ice and various appetizers.

Because of the various untoward occurrences, I was beginning to wonder if Frédéric and Jean may be having second thoughts about the viability of implementing the scheme.

“Mr. Maia, I hope what’s happened won’t put a spanner in the works. This is a massive undertaking, with a lot of implications and a lot of money at stake”.

“When they have the revised project, and with a favorable report from you, I think the Directors of Canada Phosphates will still give their approval to proceed with the plan. We are all going to make a lot of money!”

“Rest assured, Mr. Maia. This is the opportunity of a lifetime. We could all become very rich” he concluded”.

“Don’t worry, Frédéric. I’m a businessman - I know these things can happen. Every big project has its difficulties, its flies in the ointment. But some of those flies, however small they may seem, can cause a lot of problems if you’re not careful!”

“But don’t worry on my account. My report on the investment will be a highly favorable one. The rest is your responsibility.”

These last few words seemed to calm Frédéric down somewhat.


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The subject changed to talk of the day’s tiring trip, and the fact that we had most of the following day free to recuperate.

“So, we’ll meet again tomorrow at four in the afternoon, to finish off any outstanding issues, and then we’ll take you to the airport”, Jean added.

“Ok, fine. In the morning I think I’ll wander into the city to do some shopping, and in the afternoon I’ll be waiting here for you”.

They ordered another round of whisky and some snacks, and made a sign to the waiter ‘to take care of the bill’, after which they left, but not without repeating the sentence I’d heard so many times already:

“We’re going to make a lot of money!”

This time, however, it didn’t sound as convincing as before. In fact, it sounded a bit grim. It seemed as though the tiring trip and other events of the day had dashed all hopes of the project’s implementation.

I went to my room, more than a little worried about the whole thing.

I remembered many of the things I had heard the last few days, including Douda Moussula’s parting words:

‘Try to meet Jonathan. Please do this for me’.

Notwithstanding the fact that it said almost under his breath, this request sounded like the words of a man who knew something had gone seriously wrong.

And then there was the man who had yelled:

‘Killer, killer, assassin’ and had been given a beating.

I thought about Frédéric’s words:


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“He may well be a good man, but he doesn’t live in the real world. Our country is the way it is, and he’s never going to change it. He should just have let sleeping dogs lie”.

All these remarks were buzzing around in my head. Things simply didn’t fit - to say that there was something very suspicious about the whole affair would have been an understatement!


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Better to dine alone than in bad company

After taking a long shower I went down to have dinner at the hotel restaurant, almost deserted at this late hour and then I took a coffee on the terrace, where I sat alone, trying to get my head together.

The hotel stood on a hilltop at the end of a long valley. At least mile away was the railroad track that linked Ouagadougou to Dakar - a distance of some thirteen hundred miles. Another track went to Abidjan, in the Ivory Coast, less than six hundred miles away. These were the only two rail tracks in Burkina. Parallel to the railroad ran the highway.

One or other of those two links was supposed to transport the phosphates, brought here from the border with Niger. Jonathan’s original plan had been to use both the lines, to the Ivory Coast as well as to Senegal, to avoid having a monopoly with regard to transport.

It was impossible trying to dissociate Jonathan’s image from all this. His fingerprints were all over it, as Decker had said.

There are certain things that work their way into our heads that aren’t easy to get rid of - music, pictures or ideas and the more we try to forget them, the stronger they remain in our thoughts. I once had the song “Raindrops keep falling on my head” floating around in my mind for almost a week, and it would not go away, no matter how hard I tried to forget it!.


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It was the same with this project, a project that could be capable of liberating an entire people, a region, a country or even a continent. I could not get such a unique opportunity out of my mind. And in exactly the same way, every time I thought about the project, my mind was drawn back to the man who had created it – Jonathan Makeba.


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A late-night revelation

The hotel terrace was quite spacious. As you leave the restaurant through the terrace doors there are six tables, three on the left and three on the right. I had chosen one of the corner tables, so I could see anyone who came onto the terrace.

And there I sat, deep in thought. While I was thinking, trying to find some sort of answer, a tall, slim man came onto the terrace and walked straight to my table.

“Mr. Maia, could I have a moment of your time?”

I turned my head to look at the man who had addressed me by name. He was well dressed, and did not appear to pose any kind of threat.

“Certainly! What can I do for you?” I answered inquisitively.

“My name is Koko Diouf Gueye. I am Jonathan Makeba’s wife’s nephew”.

I was a little taken aback, but happy to meet him nonetheless. Finally I might have a way to contact Jonathan. Maybe I was going to meet him at last.

“I’m very pleased to meet you, but how on earth did you know I was here?”

“Boubakar Mbaye called me from Dakar to let me know you were here. He was a good friend to Jonathan.


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“What do you mean by was a good friend? I asked.

“I’m afraid Jonathan is dead. They killed him!”

I was dumbstruck. My worst fears had been confirmed. I had obviously considered such a possibility every time his disappearance crossed my mind. But now I knew for certain. Jonathan Makeba was dead! A cold shiver ran down my spine!

“Tell me, what happened”

“It’s is a long story, You need to know exactly what’s been, and still is, happening here in Burkina.”

“Please continue Mr. Gueye. I’m all ears.”

It transpired that Gueye was a graduate from a Business Administration School in England. He had recently returned to Burkina and had been offered a job in administration at BSM by Jonathan.

“Jonathan’s wife - Michelle Diouf Gueye, by her maiden name, comes from a family that is one of the most influential in Burkina. As time went by and their power increased, they became involved in a lot of scandals and corruption, and even murders”.

“These days however, the Gueye family is much less powerful than they once were, but their methods remain unchanged.”

“I’ve been told that you’ve already spoken with several Ministers, who are all connected with the Gueye family, and I assume they’ll have told you about the changes that have been made to Jonathan’s original project, so I guess by now you’ve figured out how things work here in Burkina”.

“Yes, after I arrived, I had meetings with various Ministers,” I confirmed. “And at every meeting everyone wanted a piece of the action;


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any more meetings and there would have been nothing left!”

“All the men you met are members of the Gueye family, with the exception of Djaura, who’s an outsider, but even he’s been in bed with them for many years. He graduated in the USA and is an expert on international corporate affairs. He’s very good at using his expertise to further their interests”.

“When Jonathan joined the family as an in-law, he discovered it contained two opposing factions: one, the more conservative, disliked him because he was not Moslem, and the other because he believed in integrity in politics and opposed government corruption. He was forever getting newspaper articles published denouncing some scandal or other”.

“Jonathan was one of society’s opinion-formers, always declaring that the major weakness of Burkina was the excessive corruption, which ran throughout all government departments, especially those dealing with foreign investments”.

“As time went by, and the corruption became worse, Jonathan’s protests became louder. He had become the conscience of Burkina society”.

“His wife’s family not surprisingly took the criticism personally, and as a direct affront to the methods they used. The conservative faction within the family didn’t share their ideas but were unable to do anything to challenge them.

“In addition to this, Jonathan wanted to get himself elected to a post within the government. There he would be able to speak out against the things he believed to be wrong.”

“His unscrupulous relatives obviously weren’t keen on that idea, and used their influence to prevent his election by supporting other candidates, who, when elected, also joined in opposing him.”


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“Because of this opposition Jonathan, who didn’t have a lot of financial support for his campaign, saw his chances of entering the House of Representatives diminish rapidly.”

“In the last week of the elections Jonathan was the victim of an assassination attempt. As you can imagine, this brought the relationship between him and his relatives to an all-time low”.

“You’re not joking, Koko! Attempted murder’s a serious matter!”

“Indeed it is, but for Makeba, it only strengthened his resolve to turn his dream for the phosphates project into a reality”.

“His wife Michelle persuaded him to let Frédéric and Jean, two distant cousins, join the company. She believed that he should try to win over the support of some of his powerful relatives. Frédéric could become an intermediary between Jonathan’s project and the powerful members of the family.”

“But once they had been appointed, these two men suddenly found themselves in a situation where they could make a lot of money. When Jonathan succeeded in making a deal with Fertilizers Inc., there were a lot of arguments about how the project should be handled.”

“Almost the entire Gueye family supported Frédéric and Jean, who wanted to embezzle 20 percent of the foreign investment, and distribute it between their relatives and various public officials”.

“Yes” I interjected “In Jonathan’s original project I had noticed that the tax of twenty per cent would be waived as an incentive to Fertilizers Inc. In Frédéric’s project, that twenty percent would still be charged, but go straight into his personal account”.

“Exactly, Mr. Maia. That’s what they were after. Twenty per cent of all that was destined for the project would be re-routed to his foreign bank account”.


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“The Directors’ meetings were always full of veiled threats directed at Jonathan. I was present at the last four. The very last one was in Dori, and Frédéric made it obvious that he was clearly intent on stealing some of the foreign capital”.

“The clash between Jonathan and the other two was evident. I warned him to be careful about Frédéric because of his violent nature, but he wouldn’t listen. He said he could look after himself in Ouagadougou, and in Dori there were people who would take care of him.”

“But he had been mistaken about being safe in Dori. Various locals had last seen Jonathan in a car with Frédéric and Jean, but they obviously could have had no idea of what was about to take place.”

“Things were now starting to reach boiling point in Dori, Jonathan’s home town. He was regarded as something of a hero there and he always acted as the people’s spokesman.”

“I’ve been there today, and I saw what was going on; the locals are arming themselves to the teeth. I was in fear for my life”.

“I can imagine - the local tribal chiefs liked Jonathan a lot”.

“But let’s get back to the subject. When Jonathan went to New York to sign the initial contract, and they saw the project was starting to come to fruition, they decided to get rid of him and take over the company, offering the deal to one of Fertilizer Inc.’s competitors, Canada Phosphates.”

“Early one morning, they broke into his house and kidnapped him, and kept him prisoner for about ten days. They wanted him sign over the company to them. When he refused, they forged new company documents and then drove him by car out of the city. He hasn’t been seen since”.

“One of the local chiefs in Dori said he had been told that Jonathan had been killed there and buried at the foot of a huge baobab tree, on the site of the project”.


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“I tried to contact Fertilizers Inc., but I was being watched and I received threats against my aunt and various other relatives. And the rest is history”.

“Koko, I can’t thank you enough for coming to me with this information, nor can I tell you how sorry I am to hear about Jonathan’s death. My main reason for coming to Burkina was to try to find him”.

“Ironically, I think I may have unwittingly visited his grave today, in the shade of a baobab tree; come to think of it, that probably explains why Frédéric had been reluctant to walk with me to the tree, and why, when he finally did come, was so ill at ease. Having to return to the scene of the crime obviously didn’t agree with him”.

“I took pictures of the baobab tree, and asked Jean to take a photo of me and Frédéric near it. I remember commenting about the strange unhealthy smell there”.

“Frédéric and Jean’s involvement in Jonathan’s death, as well as the death itself, will obviously have serious implications for the mining project. But if you think that there is any possibility that someone else with the same ideas as Jonathan will take over at BSM I’d still be prepared to push forward with the scheme.”

“And your aunt, Mrs. Makeba? What’s happened to her?”

“After her husband was kidnapped of she tried to put pressure on her family to get him released, threatening that they only had a future in the company if they let him go”.

“When this course of action had no effect, she threatened to go to the police, and eventually did so. But all to no avail; the chief of police was in Frédéric’s pocket. Jonathan was officially declared missing, and the investigation regarding his disappearance is still open”.


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“But my aunt refused to keep quiet. She spoke to the family elders in a fruitless attempt to get him released, and then one day she got a blunt message from Frédéric ‘Keep your mouth shut, or the same thing will happen to you!’”

“Ironically, having defied her family by marrying Jonathan, she had no-one to turn to when she learned of his death, and she became chronically depressed.”

“Her relatives used her depression to have her committed to an asylum, which is where she still is today. I don’t think she’ll last much longer; the conditions there are appalling - mistreatment if rife”.

“I’ve tried to help her as much as I can, but she is under close guard. Even if I could get her out of there, I’d have to keep her hidden her until everything’s calmed down.”

We talked for more than half an hour on the hotel terrace, trying to think of a solution to all these problems. Then we parted, promising to keep in touch by e-mail.

“It would be better for us if we didn’t meet again, Mr. Maia. It could be very dangerous for you. I came here at this late hour of the night as I guessed you would on your own, and I could make sure I wasn’t being followed”.

“You’re right, Koko. I think Frédéric is less than happy with my presence here in Ouagadougou. He probably jumped to conclusions when I started taking pictures of that baobab tree. I’m certain it may have convinced him that I know something about Jonathan’s death.”

The camera! I suddenly remembered having seen Frédéric open the car window and throw something out; it must have been my camera. He was obviously trying to dispose of the evidence.


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“He is a very dangerous man, Mr. Maia. If he thinks you know anything about Jonathan’s death, it could be bad news for you! Try to avoid being alone with them, as happened today”.

“Finally, I’d like to leave you this envelope. Open it when you’re on your own and feeling more relaxed. Jonathan had asked me to give it to someone Fertilizers Inc. if anything happened to him.

I walked with him to the door and thanked him profusely for his help. He disappeared into the Ouagadougou night, relieved probably, to have met someone who was interested in Jonathan’s fate. His death may finally put and end to the silence that had descended over the city.

Later that night I sent a message to Cunningham to let him know what was happening; the corruption that was rife in the new company, the news of Jonathan’s death, and Frédéric’s and Jean’s part in it, and Mrs. Makeba’s involuntary confinement.

I was so busy writing the e-mail that I forgot to read the letter Koko had given me.


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The Baobab Tree

The African scenery is dominated by the baobab tree. Its scientific name is Adamsonia Digitata; the former word in honor of the French scientist Michel Adamson, and the latter, Digitata because of its strange shape, with its branches resembling fingers, pointing skywards.

The baobab has different names in different regions. In Angola and Mozambique it is called Imbondeiro, in Guinea Bissau they call it Polon. In still other places the name is Calabaceira. The baobab is the national tree of both Senegal and Madagascar, where you can find up to eight varieties. Botanists say it may be possible for a baobab tree to live for more than five thousand years.

Comparing the baobab’s longevity with that of other trees, only the Californian sequoia and the Japanese cedar come anywhere close.

Baobabs, with their impressive height and curious form, are known as ‘water tanks’. The hollow fibers of their trunks can hold as much as twenty-five thousand gallons of water.

Only once a year, and for just two or three nights, the tree blossoms, providing a source of nectar to nocturnal insects. Its flowers, though very beautiful, fill the night air with a repugnant odor.

African legend tells that the baobab was a very jealous tree; jealous of all the other trees with their fragrant flowers and rich foliage. Eventually, it became so jealous that The Gods decided to punish it by planting it upside down in a large swamp.

Hence, the legend continues, the branches that we see are really its roots, and the stench of its flowers would be gases from the swamp in which it was planted.


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From that moment on, the baobab became a friend to the Gods, providing a refuge for good spirits and supplying water for travelers.

Under the roots of one such tree lay the mortal remains of Jonathan Swift Makeba.


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A Late Night Phone Call

I had just finished sending my message to Cunningham when the phone rang. It was Frédéric. ‘Very strange’ I thought, as it was half past two in the morning.

“Good morning Mr. Maia. Sorry to call you at this unearthly hour. It’s just to let you know that tomorrow we will pick you up at the hotel around two in the afternoon, to take you to the airport. I know your flight isn’t till eight at night, but we still have one last trip to make prior to your departure”.

“No problem. As I told you, I want to do some shopping at the market in the morning, and in the afternoon I’ll stay in the hotel and await your arrival.

“I understand you had a visitor earlier?”

“Yes, I did. It was a young man who was very interested in the project.”

“You shouldn’t listen to these people, Mr. Maia. It’s not going to help our plans. I’ll see you tomorrow”.

“Till tomorrow, Frédéric”.

Still one last trip? Our schedule had already been more than enough. Moreover, I had already informed Frédéric that I didn’t want a repeat the sort of experience we had had in Niamey or Dori.

I immediately thought of numerous cases where foreign businessmen had been kidnapped in various African countries. Executives had been lured there by the idea of making a quick buck, but during discussions an obstacle had arisen which put an end to the negotiations.


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When the negotiations are over, the potential partners present a ‘bill’ for having entertained them, including lunches, dinners, cars, reception and representation expenses, and so on. A mere ‘trifle’ of fifty or a hundred thousand dollars.

If the bill is not paid they threaten to call the Police, take away your passport and keep you confined to your hotel, with the receptionists monitoring your phone calls.

Then the European, American or Japanese HQ of your company is informed, and a rescue operation has to be mounted, involving considerable sums of money.

Perhaps that was being planned here. My best thing to do was to get the hell out as soon as possible!


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The flight from Burkina

That phone call had definitely not been good news. If we had already agreed to meet at four in the afternoon, why bring this forward by two hours? What was this ‘one last trip’? We had already covered everything.

Koko Diouf Gueye had left the hotel before midnight. And the phone call came a few hours later, in the early morning. Very strange indeed!

The waiter must have informed Frédéric of my meeting with Koko. He had always worked the night shift; he was the one who had always put the checks on Frédéric’s account.

The early morning cold, caused by the freezing northern winds blowing down from the Sahara, together with the trauma of that phone call, had left me short of sleep.

I rose before seven, packed my suitcase, had a quick breakfast and asked for my check at reception. There was another receptionist at the counter, who I’d never seen before.

“Shall I put everything on the bill, sir?” he asked.

“Sure, the room and the bills from the restaurant”.

“There were also five liters of whisky, sir. Shall I include those too?

“Yes, but on a separate check”.

I paid both checks with my credit card, took the copies and put them in my pocket. I returned to my room and made a quick phone call.


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“The Embassy of the United States of America. How can I help you?”

“Good morning. My name is Altair Maia and I’d like to speak with Mr. Stuart, Mr. John Stuart”.

“One moment, sir, I’ll try to connect you”. The extension was answered immediately.

“Good morning, Mr. Maia. John Stuart speaking. Last night John Cunningham called me, just after I got an e-mail from him. He told me all about your mission here in Ouagadougou. How can I help you?”

“Good morning, Mr. Stuart. I’m sorry to bother you, but I received a strange phone call in the early hours of this morning. I think I’m in a situation that’s starting to get completely out of control.”

“If you’re calling me about the situation regarding Jonathan Makeba, then things aren’t exactly very calm around here. If you take my advice, you’ll get out of there as quickly as possible. Take a taxi and come straight to the embassy”.

I closed my suitcase, grabbed my computer and went downstairs. When I got to the lobby the taxi was waiting outside the door.

“S’il vous plait, monsieur. Allons à l’avenue Raoul Follereau Koulouba, (I’d like to go to Raoul Follereau Koulouba Avenue, please)” I addressed him in my weak French.

“Pour l’ambassade américaine, monsieur?”

“Oui, pour l’ambassade américaine”.


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Mr. Stuart’s help

Less than half an hour later I was sitting in John Stuart’s office. I showed him the letter of introduction from Fertilizers Inc., and told him about everything that had happened since I first arrived in Ouagadougou, right down to Koko’s visit and his account of Jonathan’s death.

“Things here are starting to look ugly”, the American said. Jonathan Makeba was popular and well thought of by the more respectable elements of this town. Since his disappearance we’ve heard a lot rumors. Koko Gueye’s information could help throw some light on the situation”.

“As for you, Mr. Maia, we must try to get you out of here. You can’t stay in Ouagadougou any longer. Frédéric has a lot of influential associates here. If they find out you’re here at the Embassy there could be trouble”.

Your flight to Dakar is not until eight tonight. We can’t leave it till then. There is a flight to Paris at four this afternoon which you should try to catch. That’s my advice”, he concluded.

We left for the airport straight away in an official embassy car. I bought the ticket from the Airline counter at the airport and went straight to the VIP room. The only seat available was neither a window seat, nor was it on the right-hand side of the plane – it was an aisle seat on the left! There were still three hours to go before boarding.

Eventually the boarding call finally came. I said goodbye to Mr. Stuart, and he wished me good luck.

“I’ll wait here until the plane has actually taken off” he said. You never know!


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Taking off for Paris

I had been sitting in my seat for more than half an hour and nothing had happened. A million thoughts ran through my head. Then suddenly the thing I had been dreading actually occurred:

“Could Mr. Maia please identify himself to a flight attendant” The message seemed to boom through the speakers. There’s nowhere to hide in an airplane. So, identify myself I did!

The flight attendant checked my papers and led the way to the cockpit.

“Mr. Maia, I am the captain. The chief of police of Ouagadougou is at the airport, accompanied by a Mr. Frédéric Leconte, who says that you haven’t paid your hotel bill. They would like you to return there to resolve the problem.

“But the bill has already been paid! I have the receipt in my pocket. Mr. John Stuart of the American Embassy will still be at the airport, in the VIP room. Please call him up for confirmation. I can’t possibly leave this plane”.

“I understand your situation, Mr. Maia. We have had similar cases in the past. Don’t worry. For the time being you’re safe here. There are international laws that guarantee the integrity and inviolability of an airplane.”

A few minutes later, Mr. Stuart was found and the Captain invited both him and the chief of police to board the aircraft.


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Mr. Stuart asked the police chief to wait for him at the bottom of the steps to the plane: he preferred to board the plane alone, to avoid any trouble.

The Captain and I were standing near the plane’s exit.

“Mr. Maia, you could be in real trouble here, but if you still have copies of the hotel receipts I think I may be able to resolve the situation” he told us.

I showed him the dockets and he went back down, saying “Let’s hope for the best”.

“Good luck” I said, “My fate’s in your hands”.

At the foot of the stairs Stuart showed him the receipts. Aware that he wouldn’t be able to delay the take-off much longer, the police chief made a gesture of agreement. Stuart gave me the thumbs-up. The door was closed and soon we were airborne.

Passing a couple of days in Paris is always a pleasure. This time, however, flying to Paris had taken on a new dimension; This time I was flying back to freedom! I was flying back to life!

The in-flight dinner – I suddenly realized I hadn’t had lunch - was accompanied by an excellent French wine which helped me to relax and catch forty winks; the fatigue and stress of the last few hours had taken their toll.

When I emerged from my slumbers, the plane was already approaching Charles de Gaulle Airport. Even with the late take-off we landed in Paris around eleven that night, local time. By one in the morning I had already checked in at the small hotel in the Latin Quarter that I always use when in Paris.


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I don’t think I got much sleep that night; my mind was still in a whirl. Nevertheless, when I woke around nine, I felt fully refreshed and happy to be alive. I wanted to get back to work, writing up my report and making some phone calls.

First I rang Nicholas Zaimer, to let him know everything that had happened.

“Mr. Maia, I don’t know whether to feel sad about the demise of the project, or happy that you got out relatively unscathed. But I am very sorry to hear about Jonathan Makeba’s death”.

“What I do feel as a native born African is that we, once again, have missed out on a fantastic opportunity, thanks to a handful of unscrupulous men. It seems as though Africans are destined to remain an underdeveloped people for ever!”

“I’m afraid I have to say I think that you’re wrong, Nicholas. There’s no such thing as an underdeveloped people. What do exist are underdeveloped governments that put their personal interests above the collective ones of the countries they are supposed to be governing”.

“I’d like to believe that we shall see other Jonathan Makebas emerge in the future. The seed planted by Jonathan has not been sown in vain. Why not join me for dinner so we can continue our conversation?” I suggested.

“OK, but I have a better idea. Let’s go to my friend’s restaurant; I’ll come pick you up around eight. Do you remember I told you the other day about Mbeng? The guy I had introduced to Jonathan? Well, if you like, we can go there”.

“As soon as I finished talking with Nicholas, l put through a call to Fertilizers Inc., in New York.


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“Is that Kate? Altair Maia here, calling from Paris.”

“Mr. Maia! It’s a relief to hear from you. Are you alright?”

“I’m OK thanks but my news is not too good.”

“Mr. Cunningham has been anxiously awaiting your return; just a moment, please – I have instructions to put you through as soon as you call.”

The conversation with Cunningham lasted quite a while. When I told him about Jonathan’s death there was a long silence. Everyone involved in this affair had already started to consider the worst, but this blow left him literally speechless.

“I am preparing a report at the moment, which includes all the information about the people involved and their opinions regarding the scheme, together with a section on the political situation in the Burkina. By tomorrow morning you’ll have a copy on your computer”.

I said goodbye, feeling very deflated; no-one enjoys being the bearer of bad news. If I‘d simply had the job of reporting the demise of the Burkina phosphate project, but Jonathan had still been alive and well, perhaps Cunningham wouldn’t have been so upset. He would only have lost a potential contract. As it was, Africa, a land so desperately in need of leadership, had lost a potential leader.


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An African leader on thestreets of Paris

At eight o’clock sharp I was waiting in the hotel lobby for Nicholas. A few moments later he appeared.

“As I suggested, let’s go to my friend Pierre Mbeng’s restaurant. I’d like you to meet a real African protagonist. It’s not far away”.

The two of them had been friends since they had been at university, where they had both been refugees of the war in Cameroon.

The restaurant was small but very busy; Nicholas had made a reservation – ‘Save a table for Nicholas’ - for nine o’clock.

The brasserie specialized in grills. Nicholas, at my suggestion, ordered for both of us as he knew the place well. He also chose the wine, which had been perfect to go with the grilled meat.

Over dinner the conversation, which unsurprisingly centered on the Burkina project and Jonathan Makeba’s life, lasted a long time, as did the meal which was enjoyed at a typically leisurely European pace.

It was after midnight by the time the owner found the time to join us. He looked a little younger than Nicholas; in his early fifties, I guess. He was tall and dark-skinned.

Nicholas had told me that Mbeng had worked as a rights activist for Africans repatriated to France when the French colonies had gained


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independence. The fierce attempts of the French Government to try to forget about these individuals, both white (the so-called “Pieds-noirs”), as well as black, who’d been born in the African colonies, had hit Pierre Mbeng hard, prompting him to join the resistance movement.

For this reason amongst others, when Jonathan had visited Paris, Nicholas had decided to take him to the restaurant with the specific intention of introducing him to Mbeng. The conversation between the natural-born African leader and the pro-African activist had lasted several hours.

“Nicholas, my dear friend, what a pleasure it is to be able to welcome you to my humble establishment once again! You’re almost out of wine – let me put the next bottle on the house”.

“My dear Mbeng, you know the pleasure is entirely mine”. (Though his full name was Jean-Pierre Mbeng, he preferred to be called by his African name alone).

“I want to introduce you to my colleague Mr. Maia. He is from Brazil, and he’s just returned from a trip to Burkina, where he’s been to take a closer look at the phosphates scheme we talked about.

“Mr. Maia, nossa casa é sua! Please, tell me how things are in Burkina. When will the project start? And how is Jonathan - I liked him very much! If there had been more men like him in Africa sixty years ago, the continent would be very different today!”

“I’m afraid it’s not good news, Mbeng.”

Nicholas went on to tell him, in French, the details about what had happened. Mbeng’s face was a mixture of incredulity and despair. As Nicholas continued to tell him about Jonathan’s sad fate, the black activist seemed to visibly shrink in his chair.

Immediately my thoughts returned to the words of the poet John Donne:


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‘Any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde (sic); and therefore, never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee’.

Never before had the sentiments expressed seemed so appropriate; never would it have been more apt to ask ‘How much does each man diminish, when another man dies?’

But asking wasn’t necessary - the answer lay right in front of me. Pierre Mbeng was not just ‘diminished’ he was completely devastated. Clearly Jonathan’s death had affected him more than the poet could possibly have imagined when he wrote those words.

The bells tolling for Jonathan’s death might just as well have been tolling for Mbeng, so profound was his anguish. A leader whose skills had been forged on the streets, and honed by so many conflicts; a man at the forefront of innumerable anti-government demonstrations the streets of Paris, was now crying like a baby.


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The unjust sleep of the just

I returned to the hotel late that night, knowing I must get some sleep. I had been deeply moved by Mbeng and his reaction to of Jonathan’s death. Two people so far apart and yet so close, at the same moment.

However, I couldn’t sleep yet. I needed to finish the report I had promised to send Cunningham, and I knew I would sleep better once that was out of the way.

I switched on my computer, and very soon the report on the Burkina Phosphates project was finished – at least for the time being, until more information emerged about Jonathan’s death, and the transfer of power to Frédéric. Who knows, maybe BSM would one day revert to Michelle Makeba? I made a slight revision and sent copies of the report to both Cunningham and Sallinger.

I also sent an email to Boubakar, to let him know what had happened, and to thank him for putting Koko Gueye in touch with me. I sent another to Koko himself, thanking him for his help, and suggesting that he get in touch with John Stuart at the American Embassy, who I was sure would be willing to help if needed.

Finally I sent an email to my son, telling him the Burkina project had been postponed for an indeterminate period!

And that was that! Those last two days had been very exhausting, in every sense of the word. I really had to get some sleep – I needed at least ten hours. Recent events had left my nerves in shreds.


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The human body sets its own limits, however much our mind tries to ignore them; sometimes, however, we are forced by circumstances to go beyond those limits, and from somewhere we manage to find the strength to continue.

Whilst putting away my computer, I found the letter Koko had given me just before he left. Instinctively I opened the envelope, and took out a wad of thirty or forty pages. I read the first few lines.

‘My name is Jonathan Makeba and I want to tell you my story. If you are reading these lines, you will know I am certainly dead by now’.

It was impossible to stop reading. Here was a letter from Jonathan Makeba from beyond the grave! Finally I had the opportunity to read something that had come directly from him. Shivers ran down my spine.

I hadn’t known him when he was alive, but now I held in my hands something that hopefully would help me to understand the real Jonathan Makeba.

‘I was born in Dori, one of the poorest regions of Burkina, when my country was still called Upper Volta. In my early years, infl uenced by my paternal grandfather, who was of Dutch origin, I had learned to read and write French, Dutch and English, together with the local native languages.

I have always been appalled by poverty of the region. Through extensive reading I realized that things did not have to be this way, not only for this country, but for whole of Africa. I continued my studies with this in mind, always wanting to know how the earth could be better used to sustain life”

Over the next couple of pages, Makeba described his childhood, his awareness of the abject poverty in which people were living, and his determination to ameliorate their situation.


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At the end of the third page, however, he stopped writing about his own life, and started to write about his ideas to re-model and develop the countries of his continent.

It was as if he had written this document with me in mind, as if he was talking directly to me about his ideas for African development.

The title was unambiguous: Fifty-three Nations, One Goal, One People.

Over the next thirty pages, he had outlined his ideas regarding various African countries, their problems and the solutions he proposed. His proposals for Africa’s future development could best be summarized in one word - partnership.

‘All overseas aid or investment in the African economy must be made in the spirit of a genuine partnership, and should be matched by an active and enthusiastic participation on the part of the African people themselves’..

‘Africa wants to participate in the world’s global economy, to be a competitor in the world’s commercial race. It doesn’t matter if we end up coming last - the important thing is to take part’.

His principle idea was to create joint ventures between some of the world’s leading commercial enterprises and various local African companies, and to raise the value of Africa’s natural resources by selling them on the world market. The partners involved would decide on speed and level of integration.

One chapter in particular caught my attention; it was entitled

How to Attract and Select Multinational Enterprises, in which he summarized a series of economic measures that could not only make use of the country’s own natural resources, but could also, and more


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importantly, put in place mechanisms to ensure that these resources were processed in situ. That was the part that would have had the strongest appeal to Fertilizers Inc.

‘Wherever we have, on African soil, a resource that can be exploited to Africa’s benefi t, we should try to establish partnerships with the world’s leading enterprises to jointly explore the possibilities that such a combination of natural resources and overseas expertise can achieve’.

I needed to take good care of this document. Later, I could consolidate it, and turn it into a thesis which explored alternative ways to develop the African economy.

There was still an opportunity for Jonathan Makeba’s economic theories and innovative ideas (especially in regard to the land of his birth) to reach a wider audience. It could be a living testament to the life of Jonathan Swift Makeba - Alternatives for African development.

It was almost daybreak by the time I had finished reading it. I looked through the window and saw the familiar gray Paris dawn.

Yet another night without sleep!


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An unexpected reaction

It was already after ten in the morning when I woke to the sound of the ringing telephone. I was still feeling a bit hungover from the night before.

“Good morning, Mr. Maia. Nicholas here. Sorry if I woke you!”

“Hi Nicholas. It’s OK, I was up already” I lied. “What’s the latest?”

“Mbeng called me this morning. He’s devastated by the news of Jonathan’s death. He is going to rally his troops and organize a demonstration in front of the Burkina Faso Embassy. He intends to demand an explanation from the government about Jonathan’s disappearance. He wants to make sure his death does not go unpunished”

“Mbeng has good connections in the media, and he is going to cause a stink about this. He has planned the demonstration for tomorrow morning”.

His words took me by surprise; I needed to let Koko know about this immediately. Whilst they had more or less succeeded in keeping Jonathan’s death quiet in Burkina, a demonstration of this size in front of the Burkina embassy would put the Makeba issue centre stage, and that could certainly endanger lives of Koko and his aunt Michelle.

I looked through the paperwork on the table to find Koko’s phone number and e-mail address.

“Koko? Altair Maia here. Is everything OK?”


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“Everything’s fine here, Mr. Maia! I just finished reading your e-mail. I’ve already phoned Mr. Stuart, and arranged a meeting for tomorrow”

“No! You really should meet him today; if possible this morning! In the e-mail I sent you I told you about Pierre Mbeng, the guy who met Jonathan here in Paris.

I went on to tell Koko about the previous night’s meeting, and stressed that he should try to get John Stuart’s help right away.

As soon as I had replaced the receiver, I picked it up again and rang Stuart myself.

“Hello Mr. Maia! How was your flight? Any more problems?”

“Well, Mr. Stuart, the flight was fine, but here in Paris…” and I told what was going to happen. Stuart agreed that Koko could be in danger after the demonstration.

“Rest assured Mr. Maia. I will meet Mr. Koko here at the embassy and we will see what we can do not only for him, but for Mrs. Makeba as well. He told me he has a place she can hide if he can get her out of the hospital. We’ll do everything we can!

I phoned Nicholas once again, to let him know I had spoken to Koko and Stuart in Ouagadougou.

“OK, Mr. Maia. This afternoon Mbeng’s meeting with his people to brief them about tomorrow’s demonstration. He asked if you were still was in Paris, and if you could attend the meeting. As I knew your flight wasn’t till tomorrow morning, I took the liberty of telling him you’d be there”.

“OK Nicholas, that’s not a problem. I’ll all be more than happy to go”.

It looked like I would have to say goodbye to my afternoon wandering round the streets of Paris!


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At five in the afternoon we arrived at a warehouse on the outskirts of Paris. There were about thirty people working round a number of tables. This was Mbeng’s “bunker”. Some were making banners and posters which read:

Where is Jonathan Makeba?

Who killed Jonathan Makeba?

We want Jonathan Makeba.

Other helpers were glued to the phone, trying to contact as many as Mbeng’s associates as they could.

Shortly afterwards, when all the material was ready, Mbeng interrupted the volunteers to tell about the following day’s strategy.

He introduced me to them as “the man who’s just returned from Burkina” and the messenger who had brought such terrible news.

They estimated that there would be about four or five hundred people at the demonstration. If they persuaded the student body to join them, the number would grow to over a thousand.

They planned to start the demonstration before the Embassy opened, and to try and prevent the Ambassador entering the premises. The press would be there, and they would attempt to keep the Ambassador talking in the middle of the street, urging him to give them some sort of explanation about Makeba’s disappearance.

If there were to be any confrontations with the police, they were well prepared; the smallest of his followers was about twice my size!

It’s strange how certain places and situations have the capacity to take us back in time. Here I was, surrounded by about thirty people, taking part in an event in support of someone that the majority of us had never even


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met. But the situation immediately reminded me of the demonstrations against the military regime in Brazil many years ago. The idealism and determination were the same; the only thing that was really different was that this event was taking place several decades later.

Everything was now ready. It was really time to go, but I didn’t want to interrupt the discussions. There were Africans from many different countries, francophones and non-francophones. All lot of information was changing hands.

At one point It felt almost as if I was there as Jonathan Makeba’s spokesman. All of them talked about the difficulties inherent in their own countries; they wanted to know what I thought Makeba would have done to solve each of their problems.

We finished the evening at Mbeng’s restaurant. This time, however, our table wasn’t a small one. At least half of Mbeng’s supporters were present, and the wine flowed until well past midnight.


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Farewell to Paris

The next morning, Nicholas arrived early at the hotel to take me to the airport. I thanked him, but said I’d take a cab. He insisted, telling me he didn’t have anything else on that morning. Over breakfast we discussed the consequences of the protest that was due to start shortly.

“We’ve had some good news”, he said. “Mbeng called me to say that the African students intend to take part. They were now expecting about two or three thousand people in front of the embassy.

The repercussions could be enormous!

At the beginning of the march, Mbeng will present the Burkina Ambassador with a document stating that Jonathan Makeba’s death took place in suspicious circumstances, and asking the government to provide an explanation regarding his fate.

As soon as the march starts outside the embassy, copies of a document will be distributed to all the media asking the question:


Nicholas believed that after that demonstration the French authorities would demand to know exactly who Jonathan Makeba was and what had happened to him. There would be a lot of public and political pressure, both through the media and diplomatic channels.

Around 10 o’clock in the morning we arrived at Orly Airport. I thanked Nicholas for the lift and went to the check-in area with three hours to spare.


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Because of the usual bureaucracy, checking in for my flight took almost an hour. When I was finally sitting comfortably waiting for my flight to New York to be called, I watched the news on TV.

There was a live broadcast showing the commotion outside the Burkina embassy, heavily guarded by police. There, on the screen in front of me, was Pierre Mbeng and his entourage demanding to know:



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Epilog

The essence of the point and counterpointIs never black and white,

Neither is it full nor empty,Nor on one side or the other.

It’s neither positive nor negative.And goes far beyond anything we can see,

Hear or feel.It lies in the counterpoint to the point,

Of the divine touch of God’s hand

The protest started by Mbeng in front of the Burkina Faso Embassy in Paris attracted more than two thousand people, and got a lot of media coverage. The event could be instrumental in changing the course of Burkina’s history. Questioning their involvement in Jonathan Makeba’s disappearance could shake the Government to its very foundations.

Europe and the USA are currently giving clear signals that the era of the Great Dictator is coming to an end.


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Times are changing; the speed of information is increasing. News of events no longer remains in the place where the events themselves happened. No crime can remain hidden for long.

But the question that still hangs in the air is:

“Where is Jonathan Makeba?”

No doubt Burkina Faso and Niger will continue to remain poor and forgotten places. In the Sahel, without the necessary resources for agricultural development, thousands will continue to die from hunger whilst surrounded by vast deposits of fertilizer that could have saved them from that fate.

However, those of us who know the real story of Jonathan Swift Makeba and his ideas egotistically continue to ignore the fact that there are economic alternatives to solve the social problems of Africa. It all depends on finding the political goodwill, and on people like Jonathan Makeba to promote the necessary reforms.

We need to remember that the seeds of freedom and economic equality sewn by Makeba at his speeches to university students will one day come to fruition, and the African Continent will eventually take its place within the global market.

As for me personally, I will continue to do what I can, believing in the potential of Africa to be part of this global market. I am sure that African society will eventually be able to go its own way, and that one day the West and the East will become Africa’s partners, and just its exploiters.

My next journey is already planned - I am going to Ghana, Sierra Leone and Guinea Bissau, to investigate the possibilities of establishing fishing industries.


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As for Jonathan Swift Makeba:

• I believe his body lies buried under the shade of a huge baobab tree. If that’s true, he couldn’t be in a better place; the baobab is the tree of life and an important African symbol.

• Though he may be dead, his ideas are still alive, and should help to influence the ideas of every young man and woman, and every politician of the new African generation who is looking for ethical ways to elevate Africa out from its current state of poverty and misery.

• I know that the young college students, African and non-African alike, who had the opportunity to meet and listen to Jonathan Makeba will never forget the lessons taught by this man who had the vision of a great statesman, but still had his feet planted firmly on the ground - on African ground.

• And lastly I believe that his soul, as the African legend says, will certainly continue to live and flourish in every baobab tree throughout the vast continent we call Africa.


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The Author

Altair de Sousa Maia is an economist at the University of Brasília in Brazil, specializing in overseas commerce.

For ten years he worked at the Ministries of Overseas Affairs and Trade and Commerce in Brasília.

He has taught at the Catholic University of Brasília, in UNEB (The Educational Union of Brazil), and in the School of Commercial Administration of the Ministry of Work.


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As a professional liberal and consultant, he has undertaken many diverse projects connected with imports and exports. He has taken part in Trade Fairs and Commercial Missions in a number of countries, principally in Europe, the Americas and Africa

Today he works as an international consultant, specializing in African Affairs, and lectures in many universities and other establishments, both in Brazil and other countries.

E-mail: [email protected]


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Works Published and Pending Publication

Africa- A Chinese affair. (Pending Publication)

The African market, with its huge potential, is being slowly being conquered by China while we, blood brothers of almost all the African Countries, stand by on the other side of the Atlantic, just watching.

Foreign Trade and International Negotiations.

This is a book for students of foreign trade and all those who want to know the mechanisms of international trade

African Histories.

This book is dealing habits and customs included in the core of African societies that make us shiver

The Baobab Tree; Scenes and facts from everyday life in Africa

For ten years the author travelled for over 30 African countries. Baobab is the related of these travels.

Export Manual for Medium and Small - Businesses

As the name implies this volume seeks to open the doors to international trade to small businesses, familiarizing businessmen with the terms of international trade.

500 Brazilian products with Export Potential.

This study aimed to identify and give incentive to companies with potential to be exporters.


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The Translators

Les Stoners

Les Stoners was born in the East Riding of Yorkshire in the North of England. He attended Bridlington School and the University of Salford, where he studied Mathematics. For much of his working life he was employed by a large American Corporation, whilst at the same time pursuing an active interest in politics.

He currently lives in the north-east of Brazil, where he teaches and works as a translator.

(email: [email protected])

Marcel Torfs

Marcel Torfs began his professional career as a fighter pilot in the Belgian Air Force. After he had completed almost 2,500 flying hours (more than 1,000 in supersonic jets), he swapped his cockpit for an office in the Force’s Intelligence and Training Branches, and subsequently worked as an English language instructor, having graduated from the US Air Force School in San Antonio, Texas.

After a spell teaching English and French in Belgium, he moved to north-east Brazil, where he specializes in teaching, translating and working as a consultant.

(email: [email protected])


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