Kinshasa la belle -- redux

Kinshasa is a sprawling city of concrete stacks in variations of square. Where the trees have not been cut down, they erupt between the buildings like tufts of grass through the cracks in a sidewalk. They are the only splashes of vibrancy in a palette of grey. Even the sky is the colour of ash, perpetually threatening rain. The river is cloudy, brown, and wide enough to resemble a lake from most vantages. On the far side, the ghostly outline of the neighbouring city of Brazzaville fades in and out of view through the haze.

It is not, in short, a city that greatly evokes its longtime moniker, Kinshasa la belle. In almost Herculean defiance of the natural beauty around it, Congo’s capital manages to look like a half-finished wall of cinderblock. When you actually catch glimpses of its former glory, it’s almost shocking. Last weekend, for example, we went to an art shop that is part of a huge residential complex in one of the richer parts of the city. Stepping through the gate was like passing into the Garden of Eden. Luxuriant foliage lined the pathway, rich green and shining, with leaves of Jurassic proportions. There were birds everywhere, impressively plumed and shrieking loudly with exotic calls. The air was cool and moist, the perfect place to recline in the wrought-iron chairs and tables strewn about the grass. I couldn’t help feeling that this was what Kinshasa should feel like, a place that exists in harmonious juxtaposition with one of the world’s most venerable ecosystems, the actual Garden of Eden in which the birth of mankind most likely took place.

It sounds lyrical, I know, but I can’t help it. The Congo brings out the whimsy in anyone. I’ve said it before, but it’s just so primordial here. This is where it all started, where everything in nature, humans included, remains on the original default settings. The Congo is the Heart of Darkness only insofar as the heart of mankind is dark. This country that is the soul of so much of Africa’s art and music and culture is also the center of gravity for the world’s basest and most detestable proclivities. It's well known that the Congolese rainforest is one of the last bastions of true, unexplored wilderness. Maybe that explains why it's also the last place where some of man’s least civilized species still thrive in the wild. The pirate, the imperialist, the mercenary, the missionary, and yes, the savage. And what sustains them is the very thing that sustained these species back in 1500. Gold, literally and figuratively.

Gold, timber, ivory, copper, silver, cassiterite, diamonds, oil, gas, and wildlife – Congo has it all, in staggering quantities, most of it right there on the surface, ripe for the taking by any prospector ruthless enough to kill for it. It’s Peru at the time of the Conquistadors, the Black Hills during the gold rush. Every race is accounted for, trying to get their share, and in the aggregate I’m not sure who’s worse. Just because the Europeans can hide the blood on their hands doesn’t mean it isn’t there. Same goes for the Chinese and the Indians, the Lebanese and the Americans. We’re all of us guilty in the Congo, showing our worst colours to the Congolese, who are showing theirs right back. In my more pessimistic moments, I’m convinced that this place will never be sorted until the last mine is picked clean. If that’s true, the Congo has a very long time to wait.

*Edit* Yesterday I was told that Congo has 52% of Africa's natural resources. That's staggering, considering it's going up against the diamonds of Angola, Botswana, Sierra Leone, and Liberia, the oil of Sudan, Chad, Angola, the timber of Liberia... it's hard to fathom. And by the way, look at that list. With only one exception, all at war within the last 15 years...