Unrelenting war in hell
DANIEL McCabe’s documentary THIS IS CONGO: STORYVILLE (BBC4) began with views of the country rarely seen on our screens. Colonel Mamadou Ndale, a young officer in the national army, wandered in the morning mists through a setting not unlike the Lake District, all soft green hills and grazing cows.
It wasn’t long, of course, before views of paradise had been replaced with hell. Desperate people crouched by the road as soldiers fired rockets over their heads, each one giving off a sound as if the sky had been ripped from the earth.
In both scenes, the most striking thing was the facial expressions. The Colonel, a key player throughout the film, spoke about being in hell as if he was talking about being in a traffic jam. In the second scene a little boy, after initially trying to crawl into his dad’s arms and being batted away, listened to rocket after rocket without a flinch.
It was as if people had become bored by the war and after 20-odd years, who could blame them? As well as following a cast of intriguing figures through the final months of Congo’s most recent civil war, McCabe’s film made a brave stab at unpicking the history.
A land rich in minerals, metals and ivory, Congo was always a place eyed hungrily by others. The Belgians kicked the Arabs out, the CIA made sure the country’s first independent, Soviet-backed leader Patrice Lumumba was booted out in favour of their man Mobutu.
Throughout the conflict raging during the film, neighbouring Uganda and Rwanda were continually accused of backing the rebel groups known as M23. As it trawled the history, McCabe’s film painted the paradoxes of the place in big, blood-red letters.
A rich country, full of grinding poverty. A land everyone wanted a piece of, but where no one wanted to live. Through its human stories, it showed people at their best and worst. A dazzling lady known as Mama Romance risked her neck on trips to sell precious stones, an illicit trade that had helped her feed and school her kids.
When government troops drove M23 rebels out of Goma, Colonel Mamadou briefly became a hero, crowds chanting “ma-ma-dou!” while fresh bickering broke out over the part President Kabila played and how much praise he was owed.
Kabila appeared at a victory rally, reedy-voiced and warning that the threats to stability would soon come back. He could hardly go wrong with that prediction.
Predictions, projections, calculations, somehow we feel such cold, hard number stuff shouldn’t have anything to do with saving lives. That’s impossible, though, for an NHS drawn up in an era that was medically, morally and fiscally part of another century. THE PEOPLE v THE NHS: WHO GETS THE DRUGS? (BBC2) highlighted one of the many crunch points, in the battle over a drug called PrEP.
After long consultation, the NHS decided not to fund PrEP, which prevents the HIV virus developing in the body. Supporters of the decision said taxpayers shouldn’t fund gay men to be promiscuous.
Opponents said it saved lives, saved money on years of costly HIV treatment, and stopped a killer disease spreading.
Dedicated activists including Greg Owen, who funnelled PrEP takers towards Indian suppliers via a website run from his mum’s kitchen, banded together to fight the ruling. They won, as arguments based on saving money so often do.