Goma DRC April 9th 2011
The easiest route to the public’s attention in a country without a lot of modern media is to do it the traditional way—you take your message directly to the streets. That is what is happening today in Goma where, like circus barkers, motorcades are running through the streets of town to advertise tomorrow’s boxing match between local hometown boy, the great Kibomango, and the—admittedly impressive—challenger from Lubumbashi, Manda Yannick. Someone with a loud speaker is blaring out the message about the fight and on the roof of the vehicle Kibomango is riding, kitted out in full boxing gear. Ahead two motorcycle riders, wearing the black team T-shirt uniform, are clearing the path as in a presidential cavalcade. This definitely gets the public’s attention and there is a huge crowd of kids following alongside shouting and singing chants. One of them is for Manda to watch out—that Kibomango can kill again. This is probably not exactly what Kibomango would like to hear said in his favour—he’s done everything possible to atone for the death of Saidi, who died in combat against him in his last professional bout.
But the ghost of Saidi is something that won’t go away—he was a Godfather figure in Congolese boxing both nationally and at home here in Goma. The loss is doubly heavy for Kibomango to carry as they were friends as much as rivals—Saidi was his own mentor and Father figure, an important issue for this man who was orphaned at a young age and became a child soldier by 9.
There is a remarkable, and very beautiful, narrative unfolding here. Kibomango’s story has rawness, drawing equally from the wildness of this tragic country’s harsh knowledge of suffering and equal capacity for surprise, for humanity and kindness—the full breadth of the human experience. He is not an educated man with sophisticated opinion or knowledge, his appeal is as someone who has experienced great adversity and found focus and direction for his drive and ambition through boxing where innate athletic talent and iron discipline are driving him toward his ultimate goal of national and regional championship, a poor but honourable man from the slums, very true to himself.
This promotional motorcade is rumbling through the muddy streets of Goma, dark from the ash of the nearby volcano which gives the city its grimy appearance. Goma is not a dull or depressing place—there is great dynamism and activity here everywhere you look. The crowds are reacting and there is a procession following Kibomango’s vehicle. The atmosphere is animated, even joyful. All this time we are sharing the roads with trucks full of UN peace keeping troops and heavy goods vehicles branded by the International Red Cross, carrying food aid—all the signpost reminders of the huge international humanitarian operation that still continues in this province, and area still not fully stabilised from conflict and warfare.
But the real excitement of the afternoon is when the two motorcades cross paths. The opponent, Manda, is atop a vehicle of his own and followed by a crowd of kids, yelling in Swahili Kibomango kuja hapa! wala kukimbia! Kibomango come here, don’t run away! There is some shouting and rivalry from the two camps but it is mostly good natured. Manda himself, looks formidable atop his vehicle, heavily muscled and with his dark skin glistening in the sun. It is easy to find oneself entertained and charmed by the rivalry and show-biz razzmatazz being generated for this fight.
Later the same day we are granted an interview by Manda’s team. He is an interesting figure in his own right. In contrast to Kibomango’s restraint and humility, Manda has the traditional bravado of the prize fighter. He says openly and right off the bat that Kibomango will taste defeat, that it is child’s play really, also mentioning Kibomango’s missing eye as a handicap which is indeed serious.
War has been declared.
Manda is an interesting figure for other reasons—he is an obviously educated man who speaks good French and is articulate and knowledgeable. This is an urban person, from Lubumbashi, a city of over 1m people and which is the centre of Congo’s mining industry, the wealthiest area of the country and far removed from Goma’s experience of near continuous warfare.
Although Manda does not trash talk Kibomango directly, he also knows his weak spot—Saidi. He speaks at length about the fallen boxer, saying that he was a towering figure in boxing and that he will fight in honour of his memory. This is fair comment and the narrative about Saidi is legitimately respectful, his death occurring in the line of his chosen metier, in the boxing ring. It is an almost poetic end in retrospect.
After the interview my director—a talented, internationally recognised film maker—cannot hide that he’s impressed with Manda, speaking of his comparative sophistication, which he contrasts with Kibomango’s rawness, someone from the slums.
I will admit to feeling almost offended at this point, or at least protective of Kibomango whose humility is so compelling. As someone who has come through such adversity and makes the most of their opportunities, is so deeply respectful of their chosen discipline and true to their community, he is a beautiful man.
lovely post, douglas. what was the outcome?