Lara Pawson
BY Lara Pawson
What do Britain’s journalists look for in a story from the African continent? How about a 71-year-old dictator who’s presided over an oil-rich country for 34 years, lining his family’s pockets with billions of dollars, and who extinguishes his opponents by torturing them to death and feeding their bodies to crocodiles? It’s almost too good to be true — a cliché of the African state to have foreign correspondents drooling. But despite possessing all the ingredients of a thoroughly gripping news story, British media interest in Angola’s contemporary political stage remains close to zero.
Today, in the Angolan capital of Luanda, a funeral will be held for 28-year-old Manuel de Carvalho, known as Ganga, who was allegedly shot dead by the presidential guard on Saturday morning. Ganga had been distributing leaflets about the killing of two former Angolan soldiers, António Alves Kamulingue and Isaías Sebastião Cassule, who were abducted in May 2012 while organising a demonstration for war veterans demanding payment of their pensions. Information leaked last week to the independent news website Club-K revealed that the two former soldiers had been tortured in police custody before being killed. One of them was then thrown to crocodiles.
Hours after Ganga’s death, hundreds of Angolans took to Luanda’s streets in a demonstration organised by the main opposition party, Unita, to demand justice for the deaths of Kamulingue and Cassule. In response, armed police, supported by reinforcements in helicopters, used tear gas to break up the protest. Hundreds of people were arrested and at least one was shot and injured.
From London, I spread word of the day’s events, emailing my networks and engaging in the online debates. Later on Saturday evening, at a private view at the Victoria Miro gallery in one of London’s most exclusive neighbourhoods, I reflected on the links between Britain and Angola, and on the chasm that distinguishes the ease of my daily life from that of my friends in Luanda.
Disco Angola is an exhibition of six photographs by the Canadian artist Stan Douglas. Coincidentally, it was at the gallery that I learned of the BBC’s Reporting Africa seminar, which took place on Monday this week. Also dubbed the “impartiality seminar”, the chairman of the BBC Trust, Lord Patten, invited informed and interested parties to give their views on whether the BBC’s coverage of Africa is “duly impartial and reflects the full range of views and voices”.
I’ve long moaned about the BBC’s idea of Africa, and the way its star presenters tackle stories coming out of the vast, complex continent. But in the case of Angola — one of Africa’s most significant economic and military players — the failure of the BBC has little to do with impartiality. Currently, there is no BBC reporter based in Angola at all. For the time being, if Lord Patten is serious, he should put aside a salary for an Angola-based reporter to live and work in the country: not because it’s an African country, but because of what is happening to the people who live there and what this may mean for one of the world’s longest-serving rulers.
THE GUARDIAN
BY Lara Pawson
What do Britain’s journalists look for in a story from the African continent? How about a 71-year-old dictator who’s presided over an oil-rich country for 34 years, lining his family’s pockets with billions of dollars, and who extinguishes his opponents by torturing them to death and feeding their bodies to crocodiles? It’s almost too good to be true — a cliché of the African state to have foreign correspondents drooling. But despite possessing all the ingredients of a thoroughly gripping news story, British media interest in Angola’s contemporary political stage remains close to zero.
Today, in the Angolan capital of Luanda, a funeral will be held for 28-year-old Manuel de Carvalho, known as Ganga, who was allegedly shot dead by the presidential guard on Saturday morning. Ganga had been distributing leaflets about the killing of two former Angolan soldiers, António Alves Kamulingue and Isaías Sebastião Cassule, who were abducted in May 2012 while organising a demonstration for war veterans demanding payment of their pensions. Information leaked last week to the independent news website Club-K revealed that the two former soldiers had been tortured in police custody before being killed. One of them was then thrown to crocodiles.
Hours after Ganga’s death, hundreds of Angolans took to Luanda’s streets in a demonstration organised by the main opposition party, Unita, to demand justice for the deaths of Kamulingue and Cassule. In response, armed police, supported by reinforcements in helicopters, used tear gas to break up the protest. Hundreds of people were arrested and at least one was shot and injured.
From London, I spread word of the day’s events, emailing my networks and engaging in the online debates. Later on Saturday evening, at a private view at the Victoria Miro gallery in one of London’s most exclusive neighbourhoods, I reflected on the links between Britain and Angola, and on the chasm that distinguishes the ease of my daily life from that of my friends in Luanda.
Disco Angola is an exhibition of six photographs by the Canadian artist Stan Douglas. Coincidentally, it was at the gallery that I learned of the BBC’s Reporting Africa seminar, which took place on Monday this week. Also dubbed the “impartiality seminar”, the chairman of the BBC Trust, Lord Patten, invited informed and interested parties to give their views on whether the BBC’s coverage of Africa is “duly impartial and reflects the full range of views and voices”.
I’ve long moaned about the BBC’s idea of Africa, and the way its star presenters tackle stories coming out of the vast, complex continent. But in the case of Angola — one of Africa’s most significant economic and military players — the failure of the BBC has little to do with impartiality. Currently, there is no BBC reporter based in Angola at all. For the time being, if Lord Patten is serious, he should put aside a salary for an Angola-based reporter to live and work in the country: not because it’s an African country, but because of what is happening to the people who live there and what this may mean for one of the world’s longest-serving rulers.
THE GUARDIAN
