KEN’S CORNER: Life & Death On Africa’s Bioko Island

KEN’S CORNER: Life & Death On Africa’s Bioko Island

Commentary by: TLB Contributing Writer: Ken LaRive

I have now spent nearly a year here in Africa, my fifth hitch to Malabo, on Bioko Island, Equatorial Guinea. As time moves on, I can understand more and more what this place is, and why. Like a metaphorical soup: It starts with a broth made from the blood of human suffering, slavery, murder, and ignorance, then mixed with an unhealthy climatic dash of tropical diseases (the secret recipe), too numerous and social to name. Finally, it is served in a bowl of self-serving, evil, and narrow, myopic minded leadership. It is a cold fact that the reason this beautiful rain-forest has not yet seen the slash and burn method of farming, as most of the other rain-forests in the world have, is because the people here are just too busy trying to survive from day to day. Why?

The country is made up of two provinces: Bioko Island, 40 km (25 miles) off the coast of Cameroon in the Bight of Biafra, and Rio Muni, a much larger area that lies on the coast between Cameroon and Gabon, and a small insignificant island called Rio Muni.

The island of Bioko, the capital, and my home base, was created long ago by several now extinct volcanoes. They tower high over the villages, covered in a rich jade-green forest, and teaming with exotic animals of all kinds. The combination of rich volcanic and organic soil, and heavy rainfall, produces lush, fast growing plants, which are in constant battle with streets, buildings and cultivation. Along the road to Luba and my jungle trek, it was evident that the locals live and hunt very closely with their ancestors, by lair. Although there are no man-eating predators on this island, the mainland is noted for their jungle elephant, lion, and primates (monkey varieties, and gorilla). There is danger from some of the most poisonous snakes and insects found anywhere, including the infamous and aggressive Black Mamba. Nothing, however, comes close to the danger of man against man.

There was a lot of tribal warfare in prehistory, but we first know for sure, by artifacts, that the Bubi people settled in Bioko sometime in the 13th century. They kept it for themselves for nearly two hundred years, until the Portuguese found it in the 1500s, by the famous navigator, Fernando Do Poo. He claimed this island for Portugal, and made it a possession for another 200 years, naming it Formosa (beautiful), and the mainland Fernando Poo. Then, in 1778 Bioko was traded to the Spanish, and by the early 19th century the island was the most important center for slave trade going to the Americas. Though some traces of these times still exist, like the cave where they were held on the road down to the port, it is just unimaginable what this place must have been like. Men, women, and children in chains, crying in pain, fear, bewilderment, and hate, being herded aboard sailing ships bound for the unknown. Then, western disease took its toll on the indigenous natives, and they died in this harbor deliriously trying to put out the fire of fever, some estimates show that eight out of ten died. It is hard to picture. Then, between 1827 and 1843, the British leased the island in an effort to combat slavery, and establish a settlement called Port Clarence. This became modern day Malabo. But no, it didn’t stop there. When Francisis Macis Nguema became president in 1970, he either ran off or killed 1/3 of the population in an attempt to be free of enemies, destroying plantations and all fishing boats too, in his fearful quest for security.

Not surprisingly, his nephew, Theodore Obiang Nguema Mbasogo, who is in power today, had his uncle publicly executed in front of the Catholic Church. Mr. Mbasogo is said to be very rich (numbered accounts), and virile too, with scores of wives and hundreds of children, and is said to be HIV positive.

I walk these streets in relative safety today; the only white man, and the oldest man, as far as the eye can see. I can do this, and take pictures, for several reasons. Foremost is the fact that oilmen are bringing in most of the jobs and money, and though there have been many problems along the way, on this bright sunny day I feel confident. It is true that some of the men I pass up would just love to hack me to death if they found me alone at night. My mirrored bubble glasses lets me become somewhat invisible to their gaze, I feel, and there is, to a degree, safety in numbers, even their numbers, on this hot sunny day. Comments are mumbled behind my back, but I move among them as if I belong here, as in my mind, I do. Taking pictures of the airport, the soldiers encampments, the presidential palace, and government buildings is said to be punishable by jail or execution. I found those to be the most enjoyable to take, and not so much because I am brave, or stupid, but that the rules here could never be enforced in such a corrupt society. For one dollar each, in broad daylight, I have a police escort, with machine guns, to take any picture I want! I remember a young man selling bread. His mother came out of nowhere yelling for me not to take his picture. She told me that I would publish it back in “The States”, showing the bad side of this place. She was right, …and I took it anyway. Besides, in his pocket was my dollar bill.

But this place is so much more then what is seen. More then the knife scars on children’s faces to associate them with their specific tribe (that goes back to slavery), more then the inability to patch what the Spanish so artistically built, or the endangered species that hang from shop windows. As I jump the green florescent streams of sewage that crisscross these muddy streets, the clouds of metallic flies, the cry of swarming bats, the distant echo of church music, the children whores, I spray another mist of repellent for the tiny mosquitoes that give the worse malaria found on the planet, Cerebral. I see here how useless is my western, jaded, intellectual cynicism, and tend to look at the beauty of nature that feeds here. The wall of dripping vegetation before me is falling over the road, eroding the wall under it with roots, and time, and pushes what was once solid down the cliff to the sea on one side, and onto the street on the other. Someday, in spite of the horrors men have performed in this place, the countless and nameless people who have met their end here, and the vein attempt to etch out a civilization, these emerald plants will someday cover it up.

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Read more from KEN’S CORNER

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In Article image credit

Image 1: “Malabo Harbour” by Podknox is licensed under CC BY 2.0

Image 2: “File:Ureca, Bioko Island Equatorial Guinea.jpg” by Bioko Islander is licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0

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From the Author, Ken La Rive – We in the Liberty movement have been fighting to take back this country for less than a decade, peacefully and with the love of God and country in our hearts. Our banner has been trampled on and displaced by a multitude of distractions, further eroding our nation and the cause for Liberty. And so, as we are pulled by forces we cannot fathom, powerful entities with unlimited resources stolen from our future, unaccountable trillions printed out of thin air and put on our backs as debt, we must formulate the most pitiful of all questions any patriot might ask in the final hour: Are we going to fight for our master’s tyranny, or are we going to demand the return of our civil liberties and Constitution? Are we going to choose The Banner of Liberty, or the shackles of voluntary servitude? Will it be a war for corporate profit, or a war to regain our ability to self govern, as the blood and toil of our forefathers presented to us, their children, as a gift? I fear that decision is emanate. I fear that any decision will be a hard one, but my greatest fear of all is that the decision has already been made for us.

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The Liberty Beacon Project is now expanding at a near exponential rate, and for this we are grateful and excited! But we must also be practical. For 7 years we have not asked for any donations, and have built this project with our own funds as we grew. We are now experiencing ever increasing growing pains due to the large number of websites and projects we represent. So we have just installed donation buttons on our websites and ask that you consider this when you visit them. Nothing is too small. We thank you for all your support and your considerations … (TLB)

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