Will Ross: Free Guinea's 50 years of poverty
[Will Ross is a BBC reporter.]
This week marks the 50th anniversary of independence for the West African state of Guinea, but as Will Ross reports there is little to celebrate with the country in political and economic turmoil.
Without knowing it I was standing in the same room as General Charles de Gaulle and Guinea's independence leader Sekou Toure. Except I was 50 years late.
The building where journalists apply for accreditation, is where the French president had apparently gone red with rage.
Rejecting France's offer to stay under the colonial yoke 50 years ago, Sekou Toure had told him: "We prefer poverty in freedom to riches in slavery."
De Gaulle forgot to pick up his hat, walked out sharpish and wished Guinea good riddance as the French left en masse, taking with them their expertise, office files and even light bulbs.
Back to school
I had a slightly slower withdrawal from the room. My authorisation letter took three days to appear. But it contained une grande erreur.
The president of the press association stormed out of his office, flung the letter back at his secretary and with a terrifying reminder of French lessons at school he declared: "This 'e' is missing an acute accent."
I waited over two hours for that missing acute accent and the big man's signature.
Progress here can be very slow and while delicious bread and Renault cars live on in Guinea so, it seems, does the French colonial bureaucracy.
Wearing an elegant sandy-coloured robe Mohammed Bashir Toure sat outside his home chatting with a friend who had fought for the French in Vietnam during the 1950s.
Mohammed was born in 1919 and remembers independence day vividly.
French reminiscing
"Oh people were singing and dancing in the streets but not me, I was quite happy with the French. I didn't even want independence.
"Life was good back then and I voted to stay with them."
"You old colonialist," one of his nieces teased sending the gathering relatives into giggles.
I asked Mohammed how he would vote in a referendum today if the choice was either to stay independent or bring back the French.
The 89-year-old thought for a few seconds and then threw a question back at me. "But would they really agree to come back?"
I suggested re-colonizing Guinea was probably not on Mr Sarkozy's wish list and after stressing this was a hypothetical question Mohammed said: "Yes let them come. Look around you, everything is ruined in Guinea. We don't even have electricity."
His opinion about colonialism is not shared by many Guineans but everyone agrees the country is in a mess and desperately needs help from somewhere.
"Fifty years of poverty" is a common refrain and without reliable electricity or drinking water few people have felt like celebrating the event.
Dissent crushed
Guineans are however fiercely proud of their independence struggle and Sekou Toure is seen as a great hero not just here, but across Africa, although there are exceptions.
Doctor Marega Fode has good reason to denounce the man who ruled Guinea for 26 years.
During one of the many crackdowns against dissenting voices in the 1970s, Dr Fode's father, who ran a hospital, was driven from his home to the notorious Camp Boiro military base.
One night they tied my father up, threw him onto a truck and drove into the mountains," he said, as a black and white photo of his father stared out at us.
"They made him dig his own grave before shooting him. We have still not found his body."
"But at least I can tell you this without being locked up in the same camp and you being deported," he added, suggesting freedom of speech is one of the few areas of real progress in Guinea.
Like Guinea, Mamadou Oury Barry was born in 1958. I met him at Conakry's train station and we boarded a first class carriage without tickets.
The seats had been removed, underwear hung from a washing line and there was a mattress on the floor.
State of collapse
We were standing in someone's bedroom and this train was going nowhere. The French built the national railway 100 years ago but the last time a train left this station was in 1995.
"When I was a student I had so much hope for Guinea," Mamadou told me.
"We had said 'No' to General De Gaulle. We were so patriotic and I was certain we had a bright future. Guinea should have had its own high-speed TGV by now."
So who do you blame? I asked him as we stepped off the train...
Read entire article at BBC
This week marks the 50th anniversary of independence for the West African state of Guinea, but as Will Ross reports there is little to celebrate with the country in political and economic turmoil.
Without knowing it I was standing in the same room as General Charles de Gaulle and Guinea's independence leader Sekou Toure. Except I was 50 years late.
The building where journalists apply for accreditation, is where the French president had apparently gone red with rage.
Rejecting France's offer to stay under the colonial yoke 50 years ago, Sekou Toure had told him: "We prefer poverty in freedom to riches in slavery."
De Gaulle forgot to pick up his hat, walked out sharpish and wished Guinea good riddance as the French left en masse, taking with them their expertise, office files and even light bulbs.
Back to school
I had a slightly slower withdrawal from the room. My authorisation letter took three days to appear. But it contained une grande erreur.
The president of the press association stormed out of his office, flung the letter back at his secretary and with a terrifying reminder of French lessons at school he declared: "This 'e' is missing an acute accent."
I waited over two hours for that missing acute accent and the big man's signature.
Progress here can be very slow and while delicious bread and Renault cars live on in Guinea so, it seems, does the French colonial bureaucracy.
Wearing an elegant sandy-coloured robe Mohammed Bashir Toure sat outside his home chatting with a friend who had fought for the French in Vietnam during the 1950s.
Mohammed was born in 1919 and remembers independence day vividly.
French reminiscing
"Oh people were singing and dancing in the streets but not me, I was quite happy with the French. I didn't even want independence.
"Life was good back then and I voted to stay with them."
"You old colonialist," one of his nieces teased sending the gathering relatives into giggles.
I asked Mohammed how he would vote in a referendum today if the choice was either to stay independent or bring back the French.
The 89-year-old thought for a few seconds and then threw a question back at me. "But would they really agree to come back?"
I suggested re-colonizing Guinea was probably not on Mr Sarkozy's wish list and after stressing this was a hypothetical question Mohammed said: "Yes let them come. Look around you, everything is ruined in Guinea. We don't even have electricity."
His opinion about colonialism is not shared by many Guineans but everyone agrees the country is in a mess and desperately needs help from somewhere.
"Fifty years of poverty" is a common refrain and without reliable electricity or drinking water few people have felt like celebrating the event.
Dissent crushed
Guineans are however fiercely proud of their independence struggle and Sekou Toure is seen as a great hero not just here, but across Africa, although there are exceptions.
Doctor Marega Fode has good reason to denounce the man who ruled Guinea for 26 years.
During one of the many crackdowns against dissenting voices in the 1970s, Dr Fode's father, who ran a hospital, was driven from his home to the notorious Camp Boiro military base.
One night they tied my father up, threw him onto a truck and drove into the mountains," he said, as a black and white photo of his father stared out at us.
"They made him dig his own grave before shooting him. We have still not found his body."
"But at least I can tell you this without being locked up in the same camp and you being deported," he added, suggesting freedom of speech is one of the few areas of real progress in Guinea.
Like Guinea, Mamadou Oury Barry was born in 1958. I met him at Conakry's train station and we boarded a first class carriage without tickets.
The seats had been removed, underwear hung from a washing line and there was a mattress on the floor.
State of collapse
We were standing in someone's bedroom and this train was going nowhere. The French built the national railway 100 years ago but the last time a train left this station was in 1995.
"When I was a student I had so much hope for Guinea," Mamadou told me.
"We had said 'No' to General De Gaulle. We were so patriotic and I was certain we had a bright future. Guinea should have had its own high-speed TGV by now."
So who do you blame? I asked him as we stepped off the train...