Atrocities, Diamonds and Diplomacy Read online

  The others arrived: Berhanu Dinka, the UN Envoy, Mohammed Abubakar, the Nigerian High Commissioner, Brigadier Ojokojo, the head of the Nigerian forces, along with his number two, Colonel Biu, and Ann Wright, the US Charge. We all moved into the residence dining room and seated ourselves down along the two sides of the long dining table. Koroma sat facing me in the middle with his pistol sticking out from his pocket. Under his army fatigue jacket he wore a T-shirt advertising an American university. His colleagues sat either side and behind him, still carrying their assortment of weapons and ammunition belts, but I had persuaded them to leave their heavier weaponry, the RPGs and machine guns, outside on the pretext that they might scratch the highly polished table.

  We invited Koroma to brief us on the current state of security. As if on cue, some shots were fired downtown. He assured us that the situation was coming under control. The dusk to dawn curfew would remain in force; there were still some renegade soldiers carrying out looting in Freetown, acting against the interests of the AFRC, but they were being dealt with. Looted vehicles were being brought to Defence HQ and would be returned to owners. An anti-looting squad had been set up. (Ironically, it used a vehicle looted by the AFRC from the UN. Over the nameplate UNDP had been written in paint, ‘Anti-Looting Squad’.) One of the prime looters was Sergeant Abu Sankoh, who was presently sitting opposite us. His nickname was ‘Zagalo’, and ‘zagaloing’ became a euphemism for looting.

  We told Koroma that our major concern at that moment was for the safety of our communities. I noted that over fifty British homes had been looted, including, for example, the home of the Barclays Bank manager next door. I invited my colleagues to report on the events of the previous day. They did so in graphic detail, including the deaths of the two Lebanese nationals, the rape of the Sabena wife and the damage to the US Embassy. Ambassador Dinka reported on the vandalism of the UN offices and the looting of the World Food Programme (WFP) stock of grain. In the WFP warehouse there had been enough food to feed all the displaced persons and refugees for six months. Now there was nothing left and it would take three months to resume any feeding programmes. We pointed out that under the Vienna Convention they had an obligation to protect diplomatic and international communities.

  Koroma and his colleagues were visibly shaken by these accounts. ‘I am ashamed to be a soldier when I hear these things,’ said one. Brigadier Ojokojo said he wished to dispel rumours that a Nigerian intervention force was on its way. There was a force coming, he said, but it was merely to assist in the event of an evacuation.

  We registered our wish to evacuate some of our communities. Some of Koroma’s colleagues expressed concern at the impact both locally and internationally if the international communities were seen to be evacuating as this would be interpreted as a lack of confidence in the AFRC’s ability to maintain law and order. They asked for more time to get the situation under control. They hoped to open the airport by the end of the week.

  I told Koroma that it was because we did not want to order a total evacuation that it was essential immediately to facilitate the departure of those members of our communities who had particularly suffered as a result of events. I told him that some people, including women and children, had been looted of everything and that I was not prepared to tell such people that they must wait until the end of the week before they could be helped. If the airport was opened immediately, these people could leave under their own steam on scheduled or chartered flights without calling it an evacuation but, I continued, if it was not opened, I would go on the BBC World Service and announce the total evacuation of the British community and, if necessary, call for military assistance to do so.

  Koroma had a whispered conversation with Victor King, who was sitting alongside him. King appeared to be the most educated of the bunch sitting opposite us. After this brief discussion, King announced that the airport would be opened the next day. I welcomed the decision and also argued for the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) to be given freedom of access to operate everywhere, as was their right under international law.

  After the lengthy discussion of the security situation, we asked Koroma to brief us on the composition of the AFRC and its plans for running the country. He appeared puzzled by the question. He said that the AFRC was not yet fully constituted. He was waiting for the reaction of Foday Sankoh and the RUF. He had received one message from the RUF commander, Colonel Sam Bockarie, congratulating them on the coup. Mohammed Abubakar pointed out that Sankoh was being held in Nigeria at the request of President Kabbah’s government. If the new government wanted Sankoh released, the Nigerian government could not react to press broadcasts; they would require an official request. But diplomatically he asked whether it was really in the AFRC’s interests to invite Sankoh to join them.

  Koroma said he had supported democracy by voting at the last election but there should have been peace before elections; with Foday Sankoh joining them, and by disbanding the Kamajors, there would be peace. Then they could return to the democratic process. But he could give no date at this stage when this would be. They were not like the NPRC; they would not try to cling on to power for ever. (Many people came to regret that they were not, in fact, like the NPRC. At least the NPRC had been disciplined and initially very popular with the Sierra Leone people.)

  I found Koroma’s remarks incredulous. I told him that democracy was more than just voting in elections. The basis of the democratic process was that governments that lost the support of the people and/or proved to be inefficient or even corrupt should be removed by the ballot box and not by the barrel of a gun. President Kabbah’s government had been democratically elected in internationally recognized free and fair elections and welcomed jubilantly by the broad mass of the Sierra Leone population. By perpetrating the coup, he and the AFRC had violated the democratic process, not enhanced it. It was not just to the international community but to their own people they would have to answer. Koroma and his colleagues listened carefully with their heads down. Their cockiness had disappeared. We agreed to all meet again in two days’ time.

  With the discussion ended, Osman brought in some sandwiches and drinks, which the AFRC members wolfed down enthusiastically. I doubted if they had had much time to sleep or eat during the previous twenty-four hours. On the way out I invited them to sign the visitors’ book. Koroma signed with an impressive script. He looked at the photograph alongside the book of Celia and myself on our wedding day at Government House in Tortola and admired my gubernatorial uniform, gold buttons, plumed hat, ceremonial sword, etc. Perhaps he was thinking that this was what the Chairman of the AFRC’s uniform should be like?

  I took advantage of being back at the residence to pick up a change of clothes and some toiletries. As I drove back to the office I reflected on the naivety of this group of soldiers. Their comments about Foday Sankoh, the disbanding of the Kamajors, their concept of democracy and the absence of any ideas about government all underlined this. They had bitten off more than they could chew. We had to wait and see what the Nigerians would do but we were not out of the woods. Even if law and order was restored, the devastation was such that many essential commodities would be in short supply. I continued to advise the community to keep their heads down and alerted London to the need for a chartered aircraft.

  Tuesday

  Freetown appeared fairly quiet. The AFRC issued a statement saying that the airport was open and we continued our preparations for evacuation.

  I called a meeting of the wardens – selected members of the British community who voluntarily kept an eye on the Brits in their area and acted as points of contact. Only six out of fifteen felt safe enough to come to the office. I briefed them on the latest situation, including my talks with the AFRC and the plans to evacuate dependents and others. Each of the wardens related tales of widespread looting and destruction in their areas. Several of them had been looted themselves. However, they confirmed the good news that as far as we were aware, no member of the Briti
sh community had been killed or seriously injured.

  I also met with the German Charge, Conrad Fischer, and the European Commission delegate, Emilio Perez-Poros. Together we represented the European Union and we had a responsibility for all EU nationals, who, other than the Brits, numbered about 350. The number of British people registered with us was 765, but I was sure that many others would come out of the woodwork as we began to evacuate. Together with some other Commonwealth citizens we were looking at a figure of around 2,000. Only the Lebanese community was bigger, some 5,000, many of whom had taken refuge in the Lebanese Ambassador’s small house.

  In the office we had settled into some sort of routine. The telephones never stopped ringing and there was a constant stream of visitors at the gates. With Ann Stephen sending and receiving telegrams and her husband Robert helping out in other ways, their son Andrew was left to toddle around the office. There was always someone to keep an eye on him. He was the most unfazed of all of us. He toddled into my office with his football, which I kicked to him using my desk as a goal while I reported to London on events over the telephone. Everyone was busy. Downstairs, Ruth Glass was producing meals from the tiny kitchen, but there was little time to eat them.

  The two Nigerian ships carrying Nigerian troops had arrived at Government Wharf, watched anxiously by around 200 armed Sierra Leone soldiers. Demonstrations against the coup had taken place in Bo and Kenema, and there were plans to mount a similar one in Freetown the next day.

  Koroma came on the radio in the evening to address the nation. He announced the suspension of the 1991 constitution and the banning of all political parties. Legislation would be by military decree. He said that tribalism had contributed to the problems and then went on to condemn the Kamajors (Mende) but praised the Tamaboras (Temne). He said he supported freedom of expression but announced the closure of all independent radio stations.

  Wednesday

  The spring bank holiday had come to an end in Britain, so at last we were now in contact with the African Department in the Foreign Office instead of with the hard-working resident clerks. The department had missed all the fun but all they seemed concerned about was what had happened to the Barclays Bank manager. His head office in London had lodged a complaint that we had failed to offer him protection. He had tried to get into my empty residence next door to his home but had been turned away by the guards at the gate. I had left instructions with them that if any British nationals turned up seeking refuge, they should be told to come to the office compound, where we could offer protection. I had explained this to him over the telephone but he remained upset and had gone to another Barclays house in town. This was unfortunate because he was the warden for his area and so other Brits had been unable to get advice from him on what to do.

  There were extra troops on the street to stop the demonstration, which had been banned. The local radio also carried a message from Foday Sankoh, in which he told the RUF that they should not go on the offensive but should work with the army, who were no longer their enemies. He ended by saying ominously: ‘Let us make revolution. I will join you very soon.’

  Colin and Dai were left to pursue the arrangements for the charter flight, which was now expected the following day, as I made my way to the residence for the meeting with the AFRC. Mohammed Abubakar had suggested that we assemble the entire diplomatic corps but I advised against this as I thought that this would intimidate the soldiers and prevent any useful discussions, but we were joined by the Egyptian, Lebanese and Chinese ambassadors. Again, Lincoln Jopp joined us. The AFRC appreciated the presence of another army officer other than a Nigerian. He displayed just the right touch in dealing with them and helped them to relax. Some of the soldiers who had been released from prison even asked Lincoln if he could supply new uniforms for them.

  No sooner had we assembled than we heard that Sierra Leone troops had deployed next door in the empty Barclays Bank house. This led to a panic reaction among my diplomatic colleagues. They believed that this was an attempt by the AFRC to kidnap us all. Brigadier Ojokojo radioed his Nigerian troops for assistance and Ann Wright called up her US Marines. While Lincoln went next door to investigate, all the ambassadors jumped into their cars and fled the residence, apart from Berhanu Dinka and myself. Just as Ann Wright was leaving, an advance group of the AFRC, including Victor King, arrived. They were followed through the gates by the US Marines, all tooled up and ready for action. Shortly thereafter, the Nigerian troops arrived. The AFRC delegation radioed Koroma and advised him not to come because they feared he would be kidnapped.

  In the driveway of the residence the three sets of forces eyed each other nervously. Tempers were high and the situation was tense. We were close to a fire fight between three groups of nervous soldiers. Lincoln returned to report that the deployment of soldiers next door was because some looters were attempting to steal the Barclays Bank manager’s Mercedes. He had sorted it out. The Nigerian troops went off and I asked Ann Wright to make her marines look less threatening. I brought the four AFRC members, plus Ambassador Dinka and Brig Ojokojo, into the residence, sat them down in the living room and offered them drinks of Fanta.

  I told the AFRC members that I was aware that a degree of security had returned to Freetown. There was far less shooting and looting and obviously they were trying to get their act together. However, because they were so preoccupied with internal events, were they aware of what the outside world had been saying? Everyone, including the UN and the OAU, had strongly condemned their actions. There had not been one statement of support from any country in the world. Equally, if not more importantly, there was no support from their own people. A demonstration protesting their action had been banned that very morning.

  I went on to say that the Chairman’s statement had fuelled my concerns. He had said that he supported democracy but had torn up the constitution, banned political parties and now the country was under military rule. He professed support for human rights but, by suspending the constitution, he had taken away all the rights of Sierra Leone citizens. The statement from Foday Sankoh had also worried me. The RUF fighters were now coming to Freetown. These were the very people who only recently had been hacking off people’s arms and legs. I feared for my community and the Sierra Leone public. They needed to consider alternatives.

  Berhanu Dinka and Ann Wright echoed these views in equally forceful terms. Brigadier Ojokojo put it differently: ‘The High Commissioner is a diplomat; he is trained to be patient and understanding. I am a soldier – if someone provokes me, I retaliate as a soldier would.’

  King and his three colleagues listened attentively and said they would pass on our views to the Chairman. We agreed to reconvene in two days.

  Before leaving the residence, I briefed Brigadier Ojokojo about our plans to evacuate some of our nationals by chartered aircraft. Over the previous couple of days the Nigerians had been quietly reinforcing their numbers. In addition to the two vessels down at Government Wharf, Nigerian military aircraft had been arriving at Lungi. We estimated that they now had around 1,600 troops in key positions, with a further 600 on standby in Monrovia. They were well placed to take over Freetown and force the removal of the AFRC. They would feel that the OAU statement gave them the go-ahead to do so and I was concerned that we should not be attempting an evacuation when hostilities were about to break out. I made the point to Ojokojo that the co-operation Nigeria had demonstrated with the UN, the Americans and ourselves over the past few days augured well for a future improvement in Nigeria’s international relations, but this would all be undone if civilian evacuees got caught up in hostilities started by Nigeria. He did not give me a specific guarantee but said enough to reassure me that we should go ahead with the evacuation of women and children.

  Back in the office I learned that Colonel Andrew Gale, our defence adviser based in Accra, had hitched a ride on one of the Nigerian C130s and had arrived at Lungi Airport. I much welcomed this extra pair of experienced hands and asked him to remain a
t Lungi to be our eyes and ears on the ground for the next day’s evacuation. Lungi Airport was three and a half hours’ drive away by road from Freetown, forty-five minutes by ferry across the bay, or ten minutes by helicopter from the Mammy Yoko Hotel. We did not want to send people across to Lungi and leave them more exposed to danger there, especially if the flight was delayed or, worse still, did not arrive at all. Andrew’s presence there would be invaluable, although I did not appreciate at the time just how much so.

  While I had been at the residence talking to the AFRC, Colin and the rest of the team had been making the plans for the next day’s evacuation. London had chartered a Tristar, with a capacity of 360 seats, which would fly out from Paris via Dakar in Senegal. This was later changed to a jumbo jet. Our biggest problem was how to transport the people from Freetown to Lungi. We were hiring the two Russian helicopters that were based at the Mammy Yoko Hotel but we estimated that with just these two helicopters, it could take up to six hours to move everyone to Lungi. We did not want to start moving people until we were sure that the plane could land but equally, we did not want to risk leaving people too long unprotected at Lungi. We arranged to bring in two more helicopters from Monrovia.

  We had to process everybody to make sure that they would have no immigration problems landing in Europe. We were told initially that the flight would return to Paris. Priority would be given to women and children, injured and aged. Priority would also be given to British and European nationals but we also agreed to assist Americans and Commonwealth citizens. Baggage would be restricted to one suitcase, and no pets because of the UK’s quarantine laws. Everyone had to sign an undertaking to repay for the flight, or pay on the spot. Several people had had their passports lost or looted so arrangements had to be made to issue temporary travel documents. All these contingencies had to be covered and the planning went on through the night.