Africa, but not as you know it – Ade Adepitan reveals what his latest series taught him
A couple of weeks ago, I was in a taxi on my way home from work. As soon as I got into the car, the driver said: “You’re that famous bloke, aren’t you? Haven’t seen you on TV for a while. What’ve you been up to?” I told him I’d been out of the country making a documentary series about Africa. “That’s amazing,” the driver replied. “Africa is massive. It’s so big, it should be a continent.”
OK, I wasn’t expecting the driver to be a geography expert. Fortunately, I only needed him to get me to west London and not West Africa. However, his lack of basic knowledge shocked me. I thought about correcting him, but decided the best way to save embarrassing us both would be to tell him to watch my new four-part documentary series about the continent of Africa on BBC Two.
It was constantly hearing comments like this – and a lot worse over the years – that had made me so determined to make this series in the first place. I wanted to show people a side of Africa they’d never seen before. I also had a yearning to learn more about the continent where I was born.
My crew and I started filming in May last year. It took the best part of four months to travel from the most westerly point of Africa, Cape Verde, across the central band through the little-known country of Gabon to the absolutely enormous Democratic Republic of Congo before heading south to Mozambique, South Africa and Zimbabwe. All in all, my journey took me to 14 sub-Saharan African countries.
It’s difficult to say which country is my favourite, but if you pushed me this very moment, I’d have to say Mozambique. For sheer all-round beauty it’s hard to beat, and even though you can tell many of Mozambique’s people carry the internal scars that come with growing up during a civil war, you also get the sense of warmth and fragility of a country tired of violence, hungry for peace and prosperity.
Before this trip, I didn’t know much about Mozambique. I knew the main language was Portuguese. It shares a border with Malawi, and a friend who had bought a house there told me the beaches were beautiful. The plan was to drive just over 500 miles (800km) from Harare, the capital of Zimbabwe, and head east towards the Indian Ocean and the coastal town of Vilankulo.
We cruised along the newly built Chinese roads of Mozambique, lapping up its stunning countryside views. After visiting some of Africa’s economic powerhouses, such as Nigeria and Ethiopia, it didn’t take long to realise the stark difference in development and infrastructure between those countries and Mozambique. This became even clearer once we left the new roads and started driving down something that resembled a road. This battered thoroughfare was littered with potholes the size of craters. For the best part of three hours our car slalomed around these deep, giant holes in the road. Sometimes we veered so far off track I thought we were going to end up in the bushes. Every few miles we would see, smell, and even feel the heat from fires on the roadside. Our translator told us the local farmers lit them to clear away all the rubbish and detritus that would accumulate on their land.
The fires and massive holes combined with the lush green countryside created a surreal image as we continued on our long journey. If you travel long enough, you start to realise that the real world can produce moments that hundreds of millions of dollars of Hollywood CGI could never replicate. Right then, we were in the midst of one of those moments.
By the time we reached Vilankulo it was too dark to see what the town looked like. What I did notice straightaway was that we were now driving constantly on sand – even the main roads were covered with a thin layer. I could also hear the soothing sound of the ocean. This was one of those places that you knew was beautiful before you even saw it.
The next morning, I woke up to a glorious view of the Indian Ocean from my window and, in the distance, I could just about see a tiny archipelago. It looked like paradise. I later found out that it was actually called Santa Carolina, better known as “Paradise Island”.
Now sand-swept and deserted, Paradise Island was, in the Sixties, the playground of the rich and famous. I was told Elton John and Bob Dylan were among the many stars who were regular visitors. Golden sandy beaches surrounded by turquoise waters and blue skies made it feel like holiday heaven. There’s an abandoned hotel on the island that, even in a state of disrepair, had something enchanting about it. With some investment and imagination, this could easily become an idyllic tourist destination.
I can’t leave Vilankulo without talking about the dugong, a sea mammal that was apparently the inspiration for the mythical mermaid. Due to being hunted to near extinction, they can be wary of humans. So you have to be very lucky to spot one. After hours of searching, I was fortunate to find one of these elusive creatures, and with the help of our guide for the day, Dr Andrea Marshall, a marine biologist, I leapt into the Indian Ocean and got up close and personal with one. Well, as close as about 10ft. Even from that distance I was breathless with excitement at the sight of this beautiful mammal.
The final part of the journey through Mozambique took us to Beira, the country’s fourth-largest city. There I met a man called Castigo. He told me he’d lost the use of his legs following an infection caused by a rat bite.
Life is tough for many in Mozambique. The war of independence against Portugal in the Sixties and Seventies, followed by a civil war from 1977 to 1992, decimated the economy and left many in poverty. So if life is difficult for able-bodied people here, imagine how tough it must be when you have a disability.
As I pushed with Castigo through his neighbourhood, we drew a big crowd of people. Castigo shared how some of his neighbours had said his disability was caused by a curse, while others wouldn’t dare touch him, fearing that he was contagious. When you live in a country that ranks among the lowest in the continent for literacy, and where there are high rates of poverty, you can understand how easy it is for superstition and misinformation to spread.
I’m cautious not to denigrate everyone in Castigo’s neighbourhood. The UK doesn’t have half of Mozambique’s problems, yet I often hear about people who still face horrendous treatment because they are disabled. Fortunately, Castigo and a few other locals with disabilities in Beira played wheelchair basketball for a club run by a man who knew how powerful sport could be for building self-esteem. It was beautiful to see how Castigo’s body language changed once he started playing.
Dr Ludwig Guttmann, the father of the Paralympic movement, said: “Sport can be the medicine for the mind and soul.” Sport transformed my life and gave me the skills and courage to deal with the challenges the world threw at me. Watching Castigo go through the same process made me both proud and relieved to know that because of basketball, Castigo’s life was moving in the right direction.
My travels through the continent made me realise that Africa is fast-changing, diverse and complex. It has the youngest population in the world. Its people have overcome mass slavery, colonialism, wars, famine, pandemic levels of disease – and they are still going strong. Regardless of its past, the nations of Africa will have a huge part to play on the world stage. So it is time for us to forget the lazy stereotypes and get to know more about a continent that will soon create the economic powerhouses and leaders of the future.
The last episode of the four-part series Africa with Ade Adepitan airs today at 9pm on BBC Two. Watch the full series on BBC iPlayer.
The essentials
Africa Travel (020 7843 3500; africatravel.com) can arrange a Mozambique holiday and make expert recommendations. Alternatively, On the Go (020 7371 1113; onthegotours.com) has a 14-day budget Mozambique Adventure starting from ￡448, including full-board accommodation, transfers, ground transport, camping equipment and fees, park entry and game drives.