Last Day/Back Home

After a great night’s sleep we head down to breakfast and the Bintumani lets us down a little. The dining room is dark with fake flowers sellotaped to the walls and there is sadly no fruit or fruit juice, just toast, cornflakes and powdered milk.

Today is our shopping day so after a quick visit to the British Council (there isn’t much there and we can’t quite remember why we wanted to go anyway) Murray and FT take us to Big Market, James’ usual spot for adding to his collection of African masks. A huge indoor market, we walk around the many stalls selling baskets, cloth, terrible wooden carvings and great old masks. Taking James’ advice we buy a female mask which resembles a comedia del arte Pantalone and I fall in love with a wooden antelope head. Trying not be to be too obvious to leave room for later bartering, I inquire about its providence and am told it is from Kambia district and was worn on the head for harvest rituals. Greg is a little unsure but he will come around. We buy a few gifts (Temne baskets), pick up Moses from his fiancee’s pharmacy and go for lunch.

Lunch is at the Crown bakery – a place where westerners and diplomats eat. Moses and FT are somewhat aghast at the prices and although lunch is on us, it is embarrassing to be spending what would equate to a month’s wages for many people. That aside I have the best falafel I have ever tasted and at last find a fruit smoothie. Leones are a somewhat awkward currency and we only ever seem to have 5,000 notes. This has resulted in us giving away huge sums to local vendors when neither us nor them have any change (not something we minded), and here means that we are counting out 200,000 Leones in dirty, ripped and smelly notes forever.

After lunch it is time for the final goodbyes to the people who have most made this trip. Words can’t really express what we feel and I have no idea if Greg and I will ever return, so we hug and leave quickly.

Getting back to the UK was a long affair: the helicopter was quite an experience, the airport an endless queue and the flight was late and eventful as we had to return to unload some feisty passengers and their bags. Back home in a cold and rainy England I am struck by how blue the light is and how quiet everything feels. I have an African cold. Going to the supermarket feels, just for a moment, a little bit obscene. We are missing Toby and James, enjoying telling our stories and struggling with going back to work.

I am pleased to say that we completed the task that we set ourselves and in many ways I think exceeded it. Without this project we would never have been able to visit Kambia; there would be nothing for us to usefully do and we would be a drain on resources.

Back home we will continue to get updates about Kambia from James, hoping that the hospital situation resolves itself and a new political era does indeed bring new hope. But writing up this journal and looking at the photos, I know it will be many days before I have processed all of our many experiences and thoughts.