The new girl again

When you first arrive somewhere you’re so aware of everything you don't see and don't know. It’s like a negative image – you notice the huge holes in understanding more than the chunks of comprehension. But you have to just keep moving forwards – invest yourself and your time, ask questions, ask them again in another way, listen and sometimes talk. Then hope it comes together – just in time to go home again.

The team I’m working with here has been quite a challenge so far. We have recruited two male producers and two female producers, who are managed by an impressive middle aged Chadian woman, Z who’s very tough, and due to the hierarchical nature of working conditions here, the atmosphere is formal and not altogether open or friendly.

I’m working in French all the time, as we try and sort out their contracts, work out a production schedule, train the team how to work with community reporters and make inspiring good quality radio on youth and good governance. They fought tooth and nail over their contracts, were totally silent and moody as I tried to help them come up with a workable schedule. I felt like the teacher in Ferris Beuler’s Day Off when he’s in front of the class of spotty students saying: ‘Anyone? Anyone?’ to a silent room of blank canvases. They looked at me – all the lights on but no one at home. If anything is going to make your French falter it’s that. And because most ex pats that come here are French speaking, people here don’t encourage you when you struggle. It’s just expected that you’ll speak it. No one really speaks any English.

I carried on regardless, but it required all the energy I had to get through the first ten days. I felt like there was a pack mentality in the room and that I was totally alone, and guilty until proved innocent.

After a few days I had reached desperation point. I also felt lonely and cut off. The phones don’t work to text out of the country; calling out is really expensive; the internet is weak and doesn’t work at all in the office. It’s agony being apart from J and the weeks ahead until we meet in mid March seem interminable. When we spoke we agreed it was a bad idea to lift our heads from the pages we were working on to look at the horizon ahead. The minute you start dreaming about the future and the excitements it holds – being together would be a good start – you waste the moment you’re in. So we’re trying to keep focusing on our jobs and do them well. Being away from everything you know and love makes you appreciate what you have back home so much.

I also found myself watching a programme about Iran on the BBC and a debate about Afghanistan and what should be done next, and realised I missed the relative familiarity of that part of the world – its language, cultures and people that I had grown used to and fond of in so many respects.

But you just have to be organised and methodical when you’re on your own or you end up wasting the time. You need to divide the day up into sections of work, exercise, rest - and you’ll draw the best from it. I’m hoping I might be able to venture out of the town and see the rural ‘real’ Chad at some stage. Being locked up in N’Djamena is worse than being locked in Kabul as I don’t have a life here as such – or a home. So I’m itching to explore. Rural areas are generally much friendlier and safer anyway.

I have been quite ill this week, and one night didn’t sleep at all. Seems like I have giardia or something of that description according to what I found on the internet. One night I didn’t sleep a wink for being sick, so I arrived at work like a rag doll and could only put in an eighth of what I’d normally invest energy-wise. Suddenly my team started making and effort and being a bit more charming. Perhaps I should put less in more often...?!

But a few days later, I'm now seeing a clearing in the clouds. One day I arrived outside Z’s office which is like a little mud box with a tin roof. I stopped for a minute before going in and watched her typing feverishly at her little pink computer oblivious to the fan going ‘clack clack’ noisily above her head. There were flies everywhere and piles of budgets and empty tea cups on her desk; and a half assembled cupboard in the corner. She looked up and smiled at me over her glasses with her amazingly straight white teeth. And I suddenly saw her for who she is, what she’s achieved and what she stands for. I think she’s realised too that I’m here to support her, not to threaten her. It’s lonely at the top and her team are not at all easy and go out of their way to alienate her.

We have chatted quite a lot now and she has explained a bit more about her personal life. She’s probably about 45-50 years old and a Muslim. She was married, but she couldn’t bear that her husband wanted to take a second wife so when he moved to Saudi Arabia she stayed in Chad. She is renowned throughout the country as a formidable force in media. She owns her own radio station and like her or loathe her, she is making her mark. And you couldn't do that without being anything but determinedly tough in this country as a woman.
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She made a film in the 1990s about female genital mutilation in Chad and the Muslim authorities in the country issued a Fatwa (Islamic death threat) against her. She was saved by activist communities all around the world sending faxes to the authorities demanding her pardon.

People in this country probably fear her for, or are envious of, her courage, intelligence and dedication and passion for what she does. It is truly impressive to witness a woman like this first hand in yet another society dominated by dogmatic religions and traditions which allow men to suit themselves and women to fit in around that.

We are exceptionally lucky to have her with us. I think part of my job will be to reinforce her position here in the hope that the other four members of the team see her light, and treat the chance to work with her as a golden opportunity - which it undoubtedly is. Especially for the women.