Scarlett Lion talks with Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf

EJS had an impressive sweet at the Serena, a posh Kigali hotel. To access it, you had to take the elevator to the fourth floor and then walk to the fifth floor because immediate access to the fifth floor was disabled. I was allowed to enter with only my notebook, pen and tape recorder.

EJS sat behind closed door, regally on a plush couch filled with many cushions, wrapped from head to toe in woven blue and white silk. One of her ladies-in-waiting was wearing an outfit made out of cloth with EJS’s face printed on it. This fabric comes in several varieties, and for many an African leader you’ll find people wearing entire head to toe outfits made from cloth printed with their silkscreened portrait. Some are in black and white, some in color, most framed in an oval or circle. This is a level beyond a president on a Tshirt – this is full body representation.

Anyway, after sitting in the lobby for hours and basically ambushing her to get the interview, here it is, or parts of it, at least. The whole thing will be in the East African next week.

EJS

And since I got a picture of Paul Kagame too...

There are many women in positions of power but many powerless. What can women in power do for those who are powerless?

We can examine our laws and policies as relates to women to make sure that women have full equal opportunity. We must work with women groups to encourage women to not only seek professional positions but leadership positions at all levels of society. We must find a way to create and broaden the network, particularly in those societies where the laws and the policies restrict women’s rights and participations. We need to reach beyond our own societies and borrow the experiences of others that have done well and share some or our experiences that have done well.

Poverty and things like gender based violence are deeply entrenched. How long will it take for these things to change?

In Africa, assuming our countries remain consistent in their pursuit of sound economic policy, liberalization, democratization. Because to build institutions that enable them to effectively fight poverty – because we’re not just talking about welfare and safety nets – to earn, whether it’s in their profession as a farmer, but being able to empower them to sustain themselves, that’s something that doesn’t happen overnight. To even fight poverty effectively the economy has to grow by even seven percent, and that hasn’t happened over the past two decades. It’s only now that we’re passing five percent. So sustained economic policy and effort is essential to do that. We must also do more for education of people, to broaden their capacity to sustain themselves to make them self reliant. For many of our countries, two decades. Some may achieve it in much less time. I think continental wise, assuming all the countries on the right course stay the course, we’re talking two decades. Now we’re looking at the time table for the Millennium Goal, which is 2015, which is only eight years from now, a few countries will make it but the majority
will not make it by 2015 because we have not put in those policies and staid with them long enough.

How did your time in prison change you?

It strengthened my resolve. I realized this has happened in our society to many others, the unfortunate. And those of us in decision making did not pay attention. Those thrown in prison for mere infringement of the rules, many times stayed in prison for a long time without their cases being heard. It just brought to my attention that those of us who have reached the policy making level must pay much more attention to what’s happening in society. For the purposes for which I was thrown in prison, political activism, it just strengthened my resolve to come out and do even more. To seek the kind of changes I wanted to see. In a way, that has also contributed to who I am today.

What do you think of your nick name, the “Iron Lady?”

I think it comes from the fiscal discipline that I have adhered to over the years in my professional life. So I like it in that respect because it’s a signal to people that because I’m a woman, don’t take me for granted. During the last campaign we tried to soften that, bring the motherly approach. There’s a need for healing in our society, a society that’s suffered so much. That’s why you need to be firm and stern in certain matters, and soft as a mother and grandmother in other matters. That’s why you have the two nicknames that go side by side.

How do you balance your role as a mother, grandmother, woman, and leader?

These days most of my time is spent in professional life. My children are grown and married. I’m a grandmother so I don’t have any true parental responsibilities. I do try and see my sons as much as possible, the time is limited. I do get the opportunity to be with them for awhile.

Rwanda is eerily clean

And everything is so ordered, people are polite. Nothing like Kampala’s pushing and shoving and yelling and spitting. I like watching men hold hands here and getting to hiss at people to get their attention.

Some more photos.

A portrait.

Rwandan Princess and the Pea.

Different time zone, different language, different everything.

Because I took so many boxing photos, here are a few more

The Scarlett Lion Crosses the Border

There's nothing "Rwandan" about either of these photos, but I like them, so here they are. The photos that scream RWANDA aren't the ones I'm interested in taking anymore, while when I first came to Africa, I wanted nothing but pictures of women counting beans. Well, back to Rwanda, where I first stepped foot on the continent, it's good to see how much has changed, how much I've changed.

Boxing at Lugogo

Peanut Butter Again, this time with Pornography

Obi and Mawe brought me some avocados and tomatoes and things from the market. When they arrived at my place, as usual, they were hungry.

“Okay, go fix yourself something,” I told Obi. I always, always, always cook for them. Usually multiple things. But it was Friday late afternoon, and the week had been long.

“Me?”
“Why not?”
“Me I don’t

He laughed his deep belly grunt laugh in disbelief. It took him a minute to realize I was serious.

“What, you don’t know how to toast bread and put peanut butter on it?”

He went, his head hanging with a mixture of defeat and aggression. But he made himself and Mawe sandwiches.

As they sat and ate, Obi’s head moved as if separate from his neck in a little bow, and he asked, “Mawe, how is it?”

“It’s good, yeah,” Mawe said.

I went into a brief dialogue about how I thought men and women were the same and that meant they should do the same work, even housework, and they agreed with me.

Then we started watching some music videos. Their favorite was the “Pussy Cat Girls” doing “Like Me.”

They were transfixed.

“You look like you’re watching pornography,” I said.
“No, we are just enjoying the way they are moving,” Mawe laughed.

But Obi was staring, humming along, “Don’t you wish your girlfriend was hot like me?"

While Watching Static-filled Ug MTV...

We also saw the Scissor Sisters “I Don’t Feel Like Dancing,” a trippy collage/montage video and suddenly I felt slightly less disconnected from the world. (But then again, I just heard about Anna Nicole Smith.)

I’m jealous of Kelly, who kindly gave me a mention on her blog here, because her office apparently has internet fast enough to watch You Tube. I only discovered You Tube in a serious way right before I left for Africa, watching the Kings of Convenience sweet video "I'd Rather Dance," and a funny clip of a Japanese girl just standing there, stalk straight, in her underwear, giggling and murmuring. Could never find the clip again, and my eternal gratitude to anyone who happened upon this and can send me a link.

Today's Pictures

Eat some ash. You'll feel better.

My stomach hasn't been quite right the past few days. Yesterday I went to lunch with some of my coworkers, and I was really hungry since I hadn't been able to eat much in about two days, and I thought I'd be able to eat. We went to this really nice buffet nearby, where they have loads of fresh avocados, tomatoes, chicken, rice, matooke, and the works. I took a plate full of food and ate about a mouthful.

"You need ash," Esther said.
"Huh?" It sounded like she said AAASHHHHhh
"Ash, like ash, ash."
"Huh?"
"Like from your cigarettes."
"Ah, this I have."
"No, you need to eat it."
"You want me to eat ash?"
"Yes."
"Wait, eat ash?"
"Yes, it has charcoal in it, and this makes your stomach better. I'll bring you some ash."
"So you're not saying I should eat what falls off the end of my cigarette?"

This was suggestion number one. After I made it clear that I would not eat ash, from cigarettes or elsewhere, then came suggestion number two.

"You need ant hill mud."
"What?"
"You know ants?"
"Yes, ants."
"The dirt from around an ant hill."
"And what do I do with it?"
"You eat it."
"And this makes me feel better?"

Graceland in Matooke Land

Paul Simon is big at Bubbles, the Expat bar here. But not just Paul Simon, but also covers of Paul Simon. Last night a motely crew of Marley wannabes took on Paul, Neil, Eric, the Eagles, and other American songs that make me think of summer camp and road trips.

Shouldn't there be some kind of copyright law in play here?

Picture of the day

The last two posts didn't have pictures, so this one is just gratuitous.

Pasta and Peanut Butter

Obi and Mawe came over to my place on Sunday for lunch. I made pasta with tomato sauce.

Recently, I introduced Obi to peanut butter and jelly. He loves it.

So when I served the pasta, he asked for some peanut butter. I offered to make him a peanut butter and jelly after we finished the pasta. He consented.

But then again, why not? Edward, the house boy at the place I used to live in Ntinda, once made me a peanut butter, jelly, cheese and avocado sandwich for breakfast.

I ate it, slowly, begrudgingly, and it wasn’t that that bad. I’ve heard of house boys making things like bacon and jelly sandwiches.

After I explained to Edward that I didn’t really like all these things together, he continued to eat peanut butter, jelly, cheese and avocado sandwiches.

First African Nights

I had the pleasure of chatting with someone on his first night in Africa, his first night in Kampala. I answered basic questions for him, like where to change money and find a good mosquito net.

When it got late, we decided to split a special hire to our respective homes. Not a quarter of the distance to the first stop, the police pulled us over. We weren’t sure what was going on, but there was a lot of yelling between the driver and the police officer. The officer started to speak to us, but I just told my friend to walk away. He hesitated, and the followed me.

I brushed it off, I knew what the officer wanted, but my friend was shaken. We caught bodas instead, and he offered the driver 6,000 to take him home (a lot). I interrupted to offer a reasonable price but just wanted to get home. Couldn’t blame him.

Because I've taken so many pictures...

There were things I often saw that I wanted to photograph: women with matooke balanced on their heads, boys bicycling, this kind of thing. I saw these things and I thought, I’d like a picture of that. And these occurrences are common enough that I need only wait until there was a moment when camera and subject collided. But I’m learning as I take more pictures, that the best pictures aren’t the ones that I want before I’ve taken them, but the ones that just happen before me when my camera is ready and if I’m lucky enough to have all the settings right. At first, I wanted to document what I saw because what I saw was so different that what I’d seen anywhere else. But I’ve realized this isn’t enough. A well composed picture, even if the focus is perfect and the colors are just right, of something I’m thinking would make a good picture isn’t nearly as good as something that surprises me by making a good picture.

Northern Uganda: Cultivating Hope and Cotton

Now, cows, bicycles, villagers carrying jerry cans, wood, cotton, children, and the occasional UN vehicle or open bed truck filled to the brim with peasants or Ugandan Defense Forces flank the unpaved roads of the Northern region of Uganda. Previously, the twenty year reign of terror by Joseph Kony and his Lord's Resistance Army scared them away.



The villagers are still confined to IDP camps (Internally Displaced Persons), but they've recently moved closer to their own land, to areas where they can farm - grow a little of their own food, and some cotton too to make some extra money. Their homes are round mud huts, built from thatch and bricks when they're available.



People wear tattered clothes that hang off their bodies, and for most the clothes on their back are the only ones they own. Many of the children wear only a shirt or pants, some both, and some neither. Few wear shoes and mud and a fine layer of red dirt cakes the feet of everyone, of everything.



The Backstreet Boys and Ace of Bace play on the radio when we get reception. We drive through remote regions where stereotypes of villages and poverty abound - old women with long sagging breasts and children with distended bellies. But there's more here too.



There are hard working farmers who want nothing more than an end to the war so they can grow food crops to feed their children, cotton to make some money, and do it all in peace. Maybe even earn enough for school fees or some salt, sugar and butter. And if the weather is good and the crop yields are high, maybe even a cow.



The North was once Uganda's bread basket but for years the land has been fallow, producing little and proving inhospitable to the Acholi who have always called it home. Their boys and men have been abducted to serve in the LRA or killed, their cows taken by raids from the Karamojong (nomadic cattle herders from the bordering area with Kenya and Sudan who have acquired old AK47s and Kalishnokovs), their cries ignored by a government more than 400 kilometers away.



NGOs abound and food relief is there, and hope, which was once as rare as meet at the dinner table, is now being cultivated along with cotton by a mega company called Dunavant. They're investing $1.3 million along with another half a million by USAID to give the farmers seeds, tools, pesticides and instructions. More about Dunavant and the Northern Region to follow...