SAS: Another Dawn, Another Africa?
Coming down in Mauritania
By Celeste Mbarga, Trainee Correspondent, Culture Desk
The Spectator — Inside & Under Mbargo
Nouakchott — I had finally found my rhythm in Brazzaville. Genuinely found the thing that makes exile bearable after days of boredom and bad sleep, which is less sleep and other misfits with unlimited access to a diplomatic liquor cabinet and a generator that does not go out at midnight. The CF embassy after hours is its own small civilization and I had become a valued member of it. I had a spot. I had people. And I had a steady hookup with mysterious, government-issued, pills. I was, for the first time in recent memory, not thinking about work.
And then, with my ears still ringing, I walked into the staff kitchen at whatever hour it was. There he was, my fucking boss, wearing fancier clothes than usual, briefcase already in hand, and two espressos already happening at the machine. He looked at me the way he looks at copy that needs one more pass and said:
https://app.warera.io/user/698a8d90c0b91cffed8be5ae
"The fuck? You're still here."
I was still there.
He pushed one of the espressos across the counter without asking and said:
https://app.warera.io/user/698a8d90c0b91cffed8be5ae
"Mauritania. You're going."
Twenty minutes later I was on a plane. Still sipping on my espresso and trying to force down a dry biscuit. Somewhere over Burkina Faso, Fortier reached into his jacket pocket without looking up from his documents and put an extra pair of his sunglasses on my face.
https://app.warera.io/user/698a8d90c0b91cffed8be5ae
"Keep those on."
I did not ask why. I knew why. I kept them on.
A W.O.E.F. bodyguard unit traveled with us. Four women, contracted in the Congo. They moved like water finding the path, and I was behind them limping on my destroyed heel looking like something that had been accidentally packed, and the contrast was not subtle.
One of them looked at me on the plane. One second. Categorized and filed. I felt like a houseplant.
President Ipsos and Vice-President Fortier meeting on the tarmac
President Ipsos received our delegation on the tarmac, which I did not see clearly because one of the W.O.E.F. officers had her hand on my shoulder the moment we landed and steered me, firmly and without discussion, to the side of the aircraft and kept me there. I watched the scene with my borrowed pair of sunglasses and kept very still.
Presidents Ipsos new proposal for Africa is called SAS, Sovereign African States, I'm told. But
The elevator pitch is one nation, one vote. Within the continent: brothers. Outside it: your business.
I watched Fortier read the press clippings coming out of Mauritania, turn the page, and go back to the previous page and turn it over like he expected the print to be double sided. He repeated this motion several times and his face did something complicated. I have seen that look before, in editorial meetings.
He is the type of man to ask for a show of hands, and not trust an overwhelming majority. Unanimous means the meeting is over. Anything less means the meeting is just on a longer schedule than anyone budgeted for. Which is probably why the outside-Africa-is-your-own-problem part appeals to him. You check your outside baggage at the door, nobody has to justify their Italian or their Belgian roots, and suddenly an entire category of argument just doesn't have to happen. For a man allergic to unnecessary meetings, that is basically a spa day.
The first meeting happened later that day. I stayed in a different room with the other press. The other journalists were older and better dressed and had lanyards. I was still wearing Marius's sunglasses indoors. Nobody asked.
Ipsos came out briefly, clocked me with the professional neutrality of a head of state who has been clocking junior press for decades, gave me a nod, was already gone.
Then there was a day two. Then there was a day three, which I had not packed for in any sense of the word. For the entire duration Fortier had the face of someone who has found a room he likes but is not sure the foundations are right and would very much like to look at the blueprints before he signs anything.
On the third evening I asked him how it was going.
https://app.warera.io/user/698a8d90c0b91cffed8be5ae
"On the face of it, it's a good idea. Mauritania is saying it is time for the smaller African nations to rise up together. We are here to say we agree. But most good ideas have details in the middle that need work."
We fly back tomorrow. No official statements, no meetings with the press. No signatures yet, I think. Maybe. I was not in the room. But Ipsos walked Fortier to the car on the last evening and they talked for ten minutes in the courtyard and I watched from the window like an idiot and I am not going to say it looked romantic but I am also not going to say it did not.
From Nouakchott, this is Celeste Mbarga,
Trainee Correspondent, The Spectator.
