Chris McGreal in Luanda
There are not many prisoners of war who have it as good as Jaka Jamba. He has no need of the Geneva Convention, nor Red Cross parcels as he dines at some of the better restaurants in Angola’s capital, Luanda. He doesn’t even call himself a POW. But that is what he is.
Jamba is a member of Angola’s Parliament. He is also a member of Unita, a war machine which has the upper hand in its latest war on the government.
Like the other 70 members of Unita’s legislative delegation elected seven years ago, Jamba found himself stranded on the wrong side of the front line last year when Jonas Savimbi once again favoured bloodshed.
Trapped in what is essentially enemy territory, Jamba straddles a very uncomfortable fence. He bubbles with enthusiasm for Parliament to save himself from a far less attractive alternative.
But he and his colleagues cannot take it too far. Many have family members in Unita- held territory who are hostage to Savimbi’s notorious sensitivity to any perceived lack of loyalty.
“It is a very difficult situation. It’s not one I expected,” Jamba says wryly.
Luanda may technically still be the capital of a fairly large country of 10-million people, but Savimbi has turned it into little more than a crumbling city state which maintains fragile air links to war- ravaged cities across Angola. Almost everything in-between belongs to Unita.
Savimbi’s marauders emphasised just how miserable they can make life in Luanda last week by cutting off the water supply to the sweltering city crowded with refugees. The official press leaves no one in any doubt as to who is to blame with full-page caricatures of Savimbi as a pirate.
Yet for all the misery Unita has inflicted, there’s no policeman at Jamba’s door – either to protect or control him – and no overt sign that he is being watched. He is not spat on in the street, and his neighbours don’t harass him even though he has spent long years fighting with the devil incarnate.
The neighbours don’t mention the war either.
The government doesn’t need to watch too closely. There’s really no means for Jamba and his family to slip away unnoticed. He is a prisoner of the Luanda city state.
Jamba is portly, in the manner of privileged Africans who live a lot better than those they govern. His caution shows, but so does his desire to explain his position. He paints an idealised picture of Parliament as a font of sound administration.
“We do a good job of trying to make sure the laws are well written,” he says.
The truth is less palatable. Parliament counts for little in the grand scheme of Angolan governance. It ponders non-existent social security schemes and a budget devoid of figures while the country – or what little of it the government controls – is run by the president and his clique.
When the fighting resumed, Unita parliamentarians quickly saw the perks of office evaporate. The government confiscated their cars. The usual gratuities, which made up for dire pay, were no longer on offer.
“We were forbidden to leave the country. It was very difficult,” Jamba says.
Then came what the government calls “clarification”. The ruling MPLA demanded that all Unita MPs denounce the war. Those who refused, the government argued, backed Savimbi’s insurgency and were therefore rebels themselves.
On the face of it, it left Jamba and his colleagues in an impossible position. So they opted for criticising the principal of war, without naming names. And to avoid being seen to side with either Savimbi or the government, they chose the novel argument that their loyalty is solely to Parliament.
That worked up to a point.
The government flung a few of the lesser- known Unita parliamentarians into jail for allegedly maintaining secret contact with Savimbi. The others got the message.
Jamba was allowed to make a foreign jaunt in May. He went to Britain on an inter- parliamentary visit with a group of his MPLA colleagues. Jamba observed that perhaps the fledgling Scottish Parliament and Welsh Assembly offer an example to Angola. It was an oblique reference to another unmentionable for the government – the partition of the country.
The MPLA tried to undercut Unita by engineering a breakaway faction in Parliament. It pressured Jamba and his colleagues to join. A few did and quickly collected their rewards with new cars and extra cash. But the plan faltered when the Supreme Court showed an unusual streak of independence and killed government attempts to remove Unita parliamentarians from their seats.
Last month, the Angolan government issued an arrest warrant for Savimbi. He faces a myriad of charges – from rebellion and mass murder to common assault – if anyone can find him.
Jamba and his fellow parliamentarians have decided not to comment.