"Sierra Leone: A Pleasant Surprise " a Sierra Leone Travel Page by Tzcat

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I arrived at Freetown Lungi International Airport at 0430 on Tuesday morning. After a painless and fairly efficient customs and immigration routine, I stepped with some degree of trepidation out of the main airport and into the awaiting throngs of touts and porters. It’s the same everywhere in Africa. The fact that it was the darkest part of the day didn’t seem to matter. This was the only big flight of the day and they didn’t want to miss the action.

There are two commercial helicopter taxis operating out of Lungi, and they are located in the hangar adjacent to the main airport terminal. The walk wasn’t more than about 50m, but during that time I had no fewer than three people grab my bag. I managed to get through to the ticket tables inside the old hangar.

For no obvious reason, I purchased a ticket on Paramount Air Service from the table on the left. I didn’t have exact change in Leones, and I wasn’t given change. A 1000 Leones sounds like a lot, but it only added up to about US$0.50. It wasn't worth pursuing. Once past the ticket table, I was pretty well left alone. I walked through the hangar to where the other passengers stood just outside on the tarmac. It was already hot and very humid. Not a good sign.

I stood there in a predawn catatonic state until someone somewhere signaled for us to walk across the tarmac to the helicopter.

Around 20 people squeezed into the old troop hauler. We sat with our backs to the walls of the fusilage. Our luggage was stacked in the middle. A sign on the wall read ‘Lifejackets located under seats’. I checked. There weren’t any. The porthole to the right of my head was open, so I was able to enjoy the sounds and smells of an old helicopter, along with a hot wet breeze, as we flew low over the bay towards Mammy Yoko Helipad in Freetown.

I arrived alive and was met by a car and driver, who took me to the guesthouse of the company I was working for there. There aren't many hotels. After 10 years of civil war, I'm not sure that any remained solvent.

Once the sun rose and I was able to see my surroundings, I realized that this is a really nice little city. It reminds me more of the Caribbean than Africa, and the roads are in pretty good condition – Freetown was never occupied by the rebels, although they did get right to the edge.

The next morning I drove up country to inspect some communications towers (my job). This took me right through the areas formerly held by the rebel forces. The first thing I noticed was the unusually large number of roached out vehicles along the road. We were never out of view of one. Another interesting site was all the power poles sans wires. The phone lines are in a similar condition.

We drove up toward Bo Town on murram roads. Despite the civil war, these roads are in better condition than most tarmac roads in Kenya. We were able to drive safely and comfortably at 80+ kph. As we drove through the forest, we encountered surprisingly few automobiles, aside from those operated by UN peacekeeping forces. The UNAMSIL operation is currently trucking ‘displaced persons’ back to their villages. Soon a census will be performed to estimate the losses. About a kilometer before the town of Moyamba, we drove by the NEPBAT camp and passed a truck full of Napalese troops heading out to some checkpoint.

Bo Town is a very vibrant, active town that never fell to the rebels. The rebels held all the surrounding land, but the residents of Bo never gave in. They organized neighborhood watches and patrolled the perimeter. As I understand it, the rebels didn’t really have an organized effort, but the Sierra Leone army was worse. I noticed that many of the buildings in town had fresh paint, and commerce looked to be fairly active. It was refreshing to see that things are moving forward. The people here seem optimistic and tired of war. I hope things work out for them.

Sierra Leone remains a hot bed of tribal conflicts. It makes operating a growing, nationwide business very difficult. This is especially so when moving people to different offices. It’s all a juggling act…with sharp double-edged knives.

I drove down what was supposed to be the main highway between Kenema and Freetown. The part that was completed some 10 years ago was perfect. Where the tarmac ended, there was a construction camp. The rebels had burned all the road machinery, but for some reason the huts were left alone. From that point we drove on road base, which was still comparable, if not better than many Kenyan roads.

We stopped at the KENBAT camp in Masiaka. The Kikuyu guard there smiled when I showed him my business card and said Habari. He replied Karibu sana, bwana and had me escorted to the ‘Officer’s Club’ where I met a Major who is the cousin of one of my colleagues. I gave him a few boxes of Kenya’s finest tea. Kenyans just can’t drink ‘second-rate’ tea from somewhere else.

We arrived back in Freetown well after dark. This had me a bit concerned, but everybody I asked told me that driving at night is safe. The roads may not have functional lights, but there are reflective lines and the kiosks that line the road all have little oil lamps, so the vision is good. If only Kenya were as safe.

The next day I drank the local brew, Star beer, at the Aqua Marine Club and later dined on steak pie at Paddy's. Both are located at opposite ends of the bridge connecting Freetown to the Cape of Sierra Leone. The bridge is modern and remained intact throughout the war. There is still razor wire strewn all along both sidewalks. Nobody seems to want to touch it. During the war, the rebels occupied the cape side and the army occupied the Freetown side. Paddy’s, which is located on the rebel side, played an interesting role in the war. Paddy kept the rebels drunk. And it remained open for business no matter what was happening outside.

I would have loved to spend more time in Sierra Leone to see the sites and hear the tales, but Friday is the day that SNA flies to London. I had to make that flight or remain until Tuesday, which would have gotten me in trouble with many people. Unfortunately, the last helicopter departed from Mammy Yoko at 1730, which gave me 5 hours of fun and games at Lungi Airport. There are a number of immigration scams these sides. Everyone wants to get a piece of the shepherd’s pie. Consequently, there were a number of visa and passport checks. The last check involved taking my photo while holding up my opened passport so that my faces can be compared. I guess the British visa stickers have a tendency to be peeled out of some local, departing passports and placed in certain arriving passports. The visas are later reapplied in some other departing passports. When the person arrives in London sans the visa, he/she claims refugee status. Desperate times, creative measures.