Senegal's population is 96% Muslim but all the presidents' wives have been Catholic. More women vote than men, there are some 150 political parties, and in early December there were Christmas trees being erected in the streets of Dakar. In other words, Senegal is just full of quirky material for my blog.
I landed in Dakar at about 2.30am, having flown from Accra on Air Nigeria via the Gambia - my most adventurous flight combination yet. The landings were rough around the edges, including some hard application of the brakes, but hey, we arrived, and so did our luggage. I caught a few hours sleep before catching the popular Sunday ferry to Goree Island to join some colleagues. Les Senegalaise are smart and chic (in fact I felt rather underdressed) in particular the charming saleswomen peddling jewellery and other wares en route.
Goree is enchanting despite its dark history of slavery and the ‘door of no return’ which opens onto the waves of the Atlantic. The island is scattered with baobabs which grow at breakneck speed compared to their southern African relatives, and narrow sandy lanes with French names trace their way among quiet pastel houses. Like other visitors, we spent the day exploring, eating fish and rice (many varieties in west Africa), and swimming.
Dakar, meanwhile, is not an aesthetic gem like Goree, but has its own sort of dusty sprawling Francophone charm. The roads are marked with well-worn but brightly painted minibuses, fuel-guzzling SUVs, ancient Peugeots and a fair bit of pollution. On the edge of the city lies the gargantuan and controversial African Renaissance monument, Stalinist in feel but only recently finished. It was built by the North Koreans, and apparently paid for by wealthy local businessmen whom the President repaid with pockets of prime land around Dakar. Nice.
In between meetings editors-in-chief, trying to resurrect my French-in-mothballs, having a dress tailored in the backstreets of the city, and drinking the fabulous green juice of ditakh fruit, I was astounded to hear not only that there was a Zimbabwean Embassy in Dakar but that the ambassador was a *white woman*. I couldn't believe my ears. Next, we heard that there was a sculpture exhibit at the Embassy so we decided to stop by. The ambassador is none other that MDC politician and activist Trudy Stevenson. I surprised the receptionist by greeting her in Shona, and it wasn’t long before both the ambassador and councilor came downstairs to meet us. I don’t think they get many visitors, let alone Zimbabwean ones, so we received a warm welcome.
As it happened, my Dakar colleague used to work as a presidential aide, and accompanied Senegal’s President Wade to Zimbabwe in 2005, where he took part in discussions about land reform with Bob. The Zanu PF entourage apparently took a rather horrified step back when President Wade appeared for the gala dinner with his white wife on his arm. Someone actually asked, 'So did people know that Wade was married to a white woman before they voted for him?'.
Anyway, I do think it was a crafty move of Bob's to send dear Trudy quite so far away whilst simultaneously fulfilling his ‘unity government’ obligations – and of course ostensibly demonstrating his non-racism to the secular and multicultural Senegalaise and their white First Lady. I am already looking forward to my next visit to Dakar, and perhaps dinner with les Zimbabweannes…
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