As the popstar and his entourage strode up a dirt track towards yet another Aids clinic, two donkeys bolted into the throng — and the mission to save Ethiopia scattered in alarm.
The animals disappeared in a cloud of dust and hooves and Bob Geldof resumed his trek. Donkeys he could dodge: questions over what the trip would achieve he could not.
Eighteen years after Live Aid raised millions of pounds to feed starving Ethiopians, their country is again stricken with drought and famine, with HIV/Aids compounding the crisis.
This time the government and international aid agencies have averted mass deaths by providing 1,15-million tons of food, but another 365 000 tons are needed.
Geldof returned last week to demand that the gap be filled, at the invitation of the UN children’s aid agency, Unicef, and Save the Children UK, which knew the man who put the fun into fundraising would generate publicity.
A rollercoaster five days wound up last night, when Geldof flew back from Sekota, in the parched north, to Addis Ababa for a reception hosted by the Ethiopian President.
Tall and lean, greying hair swept back, the 51-year-old seemed pleased with his work. His meeting with the Prime Minister had produced laughter from behind the closed doors. For the cameras they made an odd couple: Geldof in a crumpled linen suit and gold chain towering over the small, suited Meles Zenawi.
Officials from the World Bank, IMF and aid agencies packed the Hilton hotel to be roasted by the Irishman: ‘You’re supposed to help Ethiopia, that’s your job. I don’t think dialogue is always constructive; it can be an excuse for inaction. I’m used to the sophistication of your arguments, but fuck that. It’s sophistry.’
When he asked how many journalists the regime had jailed, the room fell quiet. Some issues the donors avoid and it took the Irish ambassador to break the awkward silence, suggesting human rights were less respected in Eritrea.
He told The Observer that African leaders needed to get a ‘fucking grip’ to win the West’s confidence and to save the continent from resembling the wastelands of Mad Max.
Heading into rural areas, Geldof wore sun block and a white hat which the TV crews hated for shadowing his face. He also wore a smile: however grim the malnutrition and sickness, children sang, danced and presented red rose bouquets.
Few had heard of the Boomtown Rats, but children here tend to treat all white strangers as rockstars, waving, shouting, wanting to be touched. ‘Oh God, a Prince Charles moment,’ he murmured as Aids orphans sang a welcome.
The father of four is at ease with children, though Assefa Fikadu, 10, was puzzled to be asked who was his worst teacher, a subject close to the heart of the rebel pupil who refused to play rugby at Dublin’s Blackrock College.
Goats and cattle scattered as the convoy of four-wheel-drives arrived in dusty towns to disgorge a strange spectacle: white people in sunglasses, chewing gum, swigging mineral water and taking pictures.
Again and again, Geldof gave his spiel to the travelling media: starvation was unacceptable in a world of surplus, and rich countries would benefit by providing Africa with food and medicine.
An unusual vocabulary (some favourite words: concomitant, excrescence, perforce) and passion made for fluent diatribes, the vehemence rising as the sun grew hotter. Eligagehu Yismash, heavily pregnant and HIV positive, looked on serenely as Geldof denounced the absence of Aids drugs. He did not see Fleet Street’s shame when journalists argued over who would interview Yismash first.
Coverage of the deaths of Paula Yates and Michael Hutchence left Geldof wary of the press, but over a gin and Coke (there was no tonic or whiskey in Sekota) he was happy relating anecdotes about being knighted (the Queen said he looked nice in his suit) and Mick Jagger’s small stature and skinny hips (poor nutrition of the baby-boom generation).
‘These journalists are important, we need them to focus attention on Africa’s problems,’ he told some villagers. Unicef’s official ambassadors include Mia Farrow and Susan Sarandon, but they seldom generate the same publicity.
Aid agencies who expected Geldof to focus on debt relief were surprised by his attacks on the EU’s relatively meagre food aid to Ethiopia, but it was a calculated effort to maximise publicity: the press took the bait and all week figures such as Glenys Kinnock have been busy responding.
‘The EU has just pledged an extra 50 000 tons; it seems to be a direct response,’ said John Graham, head of Unicef in Ethiopia.
By yesterday the moral outrage had ebbed and Geldof, tired from a punishing schedule, was unusually quiet. The job was done. – Guardian Unlimited Â