Lesley Abdela@Freetown
by Lesley Abdela
First Published by The Guardian (UK) www.guardian.co.uk
4th Dec. 2000
e-mail from Freetown, Sierra Leone
I woke to the dazzling early light of the tropical coastline and looked down on to the Aberdeen peninsula.
The Royal Navy had arrived. Five ships were lying at anchor dotted across the bay. More than 500,000 west
African troops took part in the first and second world wars and a Remembrance Day service was to be
held at the Freetown military cemetery by the sea.
About 250 of us stood among the haphazardly laid-out gravestones. British and Sierra Leone military
stood to attention in the front rows. We civilians stood behind them. Elderly Muslim veterans dressed
in white and gold robes sat or stood beside the memorial to comrades in arms. British snipers guarded
us from the top of nearby giant storage tanks. British soldiers in camouflage gear with guns at the
ready surveyed the sea. A Sierra Leone military band seated beneath the only shade-tree played
Remembrance Day hymns.
Because Freetown is in exactly the same time zone as the UK, at that very moment at the Cenotaph in
Whitehall and in churches and at war memorials across the United Kingdom people were choking back tears
to just the same music. The helicopter-carrier HMS Ocean, anchored out in the bay, fired a gun to mark
the two minutes' silence.
When a handful of young kids paddled up in their canoes the soldiers became extra alert.
They had reason to be cautious. The Revolutionary United Front rebels control thousands of
cocaine-addicted, scrambled-brained child soldiers. For seven years, the RUF tactic has been
to raid a village and round up boys and girls aged 10 and upwards.
The children are immediately injected in the temple with crack cocaine or skin scraped from leg or
chest and the drug rubbed straight into the bloodstream. Soon after the kidnapping, drug-confused
youngsters are forced to chop off a limb from one of their relatives before being taken away to be
trained to fight and kill. But the local youngsters who sat quietly in their gently rocking canoes
were no threat. They had simply come to listen to the singing.
The next day, 500 troops in amphibian craft accompanied by helicopter gunship air cover
landed on the beaches of Aberdeen peninsula for a royal tournament display. I was conducting a
British Council democracy skills training workshop for women and we all ducked in unison as a
low-flying helicopter roared over the seminar room. Thousands of Sierra Leoneans on the beach
cheered and shouted:
"God bless our mother country, God bless Britain."
A couple of days later I attended a special session of parliament. I sat behind the UK high commissioner,
Alan Jones, and the commander of the British forces in Sierra Leone, Brigadier David Richards.
The praise for Britain was so warm and effusive it was almost embarrassing. But it was deeply touching.
A Muslim MP said:
"The British are a special people ready to live and to die for what they believe in, rather than for
short-term gain."
He mentioned the British belief in fair play and justice and added in for good measure the spirit of
King Arthur. An MP stood up and said:
"I could see the great spectacle on the beach from my window. When I saw the British forces landing -
nothing could be more reassuring. If I may quote Wellington, 'I don't know what they do to the enemy,
but by God they put the fear of God in me.'"
Members of parliament from all the political parties offered paeans of praise to Britain.
They thanked Tony Blair. They thanked Robin Cook. They thanked Britain's UN ambassador,
Jeremy Greencroft. They thanked the Department for International Development. They even praised
the deputy prime minister, John Prescott. It must be one of the few rave reviews our minister
for transport & wet & every other controversial thing has had this year.
lesley.abdela@shevolution.com
© Lesley Abdela 2000
Links
The Guardian - http://www.guardianunlimited.co.uk
The British Council, Sierra Leone - http://www.britishcouncil.org/sierraleone
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