Wednesday, June 05, 2024

On the Ground in Africa

/pol/ - Politically Incorrect » Thread #64398540

"Reminds me of this MPC post: 

(I can't make a new topic, so I'm posting in this one, for reasons that will be clear very very quickly. I'm disappointed though, because I had a great thread name ready: I Miss the AIDS Down in Africa - Gonna Take Some Time To Explain Away Race for You.)

So many people wanted to hear about my time in Africa, and I want to talk about it, but I’m not really sure which angle to attack it from. You see, not only was I living there, I was a…
Peace Corps Volunteer.

Yep. The pozzed of the pozzed. Actually, it was a good experience, and it started me on the path of the shitlord by exposing me not only to Africans, but also to people so far to the left you need to pop a Truveda just to have a conversation with them. The whole thing was extremely eye opening, and I could write another entire post about international aid generally and Peace Corps specifically, but I want this one just about Africa, Africans, and the way they live.

First, a caveat. Africa is huge, and I can only speak for the little corner I was in. I was assigned to a remote village in the Sahel, basically the transition between the rainforests of central Africa and the Sahara desert, in francophone West Africa. I was in a very stable country (though we had some terrorist scares), and I would not only go back in a heartbeat, I regularly recommend that people go on vacation there. It’s a beautiful place: cheap, on the Atlantic, and open to (French speaking) foreigners. I have tons of shit to talk about it, though, but I’ll lead with the positive 

The good:
As I mentioned in the post that spawned this one, tribal African society works for them. They’re not smart, but they have strict, specific rules that they follow and that make things sorta work. By sorta work, I mean the power is on 6-8 hours a day, there is running water sometimes, and the roads have potholes so big it’s safer to drive in the bush next to them. But in the small town/village I was in, there was basically no crime, it was very safe to walk around at night, and people got along really well with each other.

How did they achieve this? If Asians are ant-people, well adapted to SCALEd societies, Africans are the opposite. They can’t handle scale, at all. When they live in villages of 100 to 1000, though, things are “functional”. They need familial hierarchies to function, though. Blacks have no morality, they don’t feel bad for doing anything the way you or I do. Their sense of shame and moral compunction is hierarchically imposed. There were a million little niggershines going on every day, and if they got away with it, it was all good. But if an elder catches you, you’re in for a world of hurt. Literally, because all punishment is corporal. They don’t mess around with stern lectures. It’s straight to the beatings, from a young age on.

The system also puts a huge premium on family and community, and nobody there had any desire to ever leave for good. Everyone wanted to get out to get paid, but nobody wanted to emigrate permanently to France or the US. They just wanted to make money, ship it home to “support” their family, and come back to have a little empire of dirt in the bush. 

They are also front-line fighters against shitlibs. They didn’t stand for that shit, at all. If you wanted to come into their villages and build some shit, great. If you wanted to give them lectures about how they needed to accept gays or change their ways, mobs and rocks were in your future. Luckily I worked in Agricultural development, so I mostly got to give away stuff. At the time I felt bad for the ones getting the rocks, but looking back I just laugh. Take that, striver poors!

The bad:
1. Once, a friend of another volunteer wanted to earn some money by baking bread. He got a little bit of money together and used it to buy ingredients. He built a mud stove himself, and cooked 30 loaves of “village bread” - basically misshapen, doughy baguette. He took the bread to the road, and started to sell them, until his father came by. His father said, “You have bread! The family needs bread!” and took 20 loaves for himself and the rest of the kids (this particular father had 4 wives and 8 kids per wife). Our enterprising African friend was left bankrupt. He lost his entire initial investment and never made bread again. 

This is the basic story of Africa: communalism gone insane. It is completely unthinkable to refuse a demand of an elder or a family member for money or food. People hid any small money they had, because if anyone knew they had it, there would be a line around the corner asking for loans and favors, and they would be honor-bound or whatever to say yes. I told my friends over and over to say no, and each time they politely explained to me that it was impossible. The whole system is built to pull people down to the lowest common denominator.

2. Every day, I ate the same meal – a huge communal bowl of rice, with fish and some vegetables. Every day, the family I lived with spent a good amount of money (for them) to buy bitter tomatoes and okra to put in the rice, despite the fact that nobody liked bitter tomatoes or okra. I asked, why do you waste so much money on these vegetables that nobody eats? They told me, because we don’t want anyone to think we’re poor.

Africans are all about face and presentation, to the point of self-ruin. We’re talking about people for whom buying a couple vegetables has a huge impact on their bottom line, but they still do it. Saving money is basically impossible. I’m convinced that they have no conception of the future, aside from a vague idea that tomorrow will come. Cause and effect seemed to have no meaning. People who planned well, saved money and invested were not lauded or emulated, just dismissed as flukes or having received the blessing of Allah. Actually, Africans probably took to Islam like flies to shit because in Islam, everything flows directly from God – it is a religion that gives people permission to believe that everything is out of their hands, which they believe anyway. 

3. A man asked me if I could give him 10 hectares of land and a diesel-electric water pump to irrigate it. This was not uncommon. The first thing people usually asked me when I told them I was an Agriculture Development person was for tractors, cars, livestock, anything. Completely shameless begging. Men in expensive silk clothes with nice black sedans would shamelessly beg for gimmiedats when they learned what I did. Anyway, I asked this particular guy what experience he had farming or gardening. He said none. I asked, then why do you want such a large scale enterprise? Why not get a small garden from the village chief and a used gas-pump to see how it goes? Maybe you’ll even earn enough money to upgrade in a year or two. He said, well, my cousin got 10 hectares and a diesel-electric pump from the government, so he was going to wait until he could get it too.

Gimmiedats are international. It’s disgusting. Every single cent of international aid is wasted on either bloodthirsty warlords, sniveling SWLP striver salaries, or gimmiedats for the underserving. In case you had any illusions, never give money to any international charity, ever. It breeds a mentality of helplessness and “mana from heaven”, not to mention an entire caste of African hustlers whose only job is to pitch their villages for various causes. The worst thing about this story? The man was completely right to not try a small scale enterprise. He’s African, they have infinite time. One day a government project will come to his village and give him his pump and his 10 hectares. He won’t do shit with it, but he’ll proudly show off his pump and everyone in the village will respect him for his achievement of receiving some gimmiedats. 

4. During the festival of Eid al-Hada, a ram must be sacrificed because blah blah who cares. After killing and stringing the ram up into a tree for butchering, a gaggle of boys (they are always around in groups of 10-50, usually begging for presents and money because idiot white people always give it to them) rushed to the dying animal with a pair of scissors, snipped off its balls, and ran away with their prize. I asked the closest mother why, she said they’re going to grill it – the balls are a prized treat for the boys. I asked, do the girls eat it too? Of course not, she said. They would get pregnant with a goat.

Africans are dumb as shit. Basically, they never grow up. You are dealing with 200 pound children. If you go into interactions with that mindset, things go alright, but if you expect anything adult from them, you’ll be disappointed and frustrated at every turn. They believe in everything you can list – ghosts, angels, demons, curses, charms, blessings, and magic. Oh, and magic. They love it. I was party to a number of village magic battles, where charms and counter-charms were buried at people’s doorsteps, protective wards were made, and potions were snuck into tea. It’s a huge deal, and everyone pays big money (for them) to the local shamans and witch doctors to get all these magical trinkets. Yes, even in Islamic Africa, it’s just like this. African Islam is the same as South American Christianity – totally fucked in the head. They are pagan savages first and moon-worshiping goatfuckers second. They just slap a varnish of Islam on it – the magic charm has a Koranic verse in it! – and go about their lives happily as before. 

5. A volunteer once fronted enough money for the farmer he lived with to buy fertilizer. They spread it together, and the yield was recorded. In total, it was 9 fold over the year prior. Instead of taking the money back for the loan, said volunteer forced the farmer to buy fertilizer for the next year, and save it. The next year came and they used it again, and again the yield was 10 fold over the first non-fertilizer year. This time, though, the volunteer had left the country. The farmer didn’t buy any fertilizer, and instead blew through the money he earned from his crop on frivolous crap and gifts to every extended family member who cast a shadow on his door. The next year his yields returned to the original level, and everyone went on with their lives as happy as before. The end.This is my penultimate Africa story. There’s a bit more to it – the Peace Corps showed graphs and charts of this particular case as a successful intervention. I only found out about the little coda because I specifically asked what happened the next year; they didn’t decide to share that little fact in the larger meeting. It brings together everything - the waste, the stupidity, the lack of foresight, the inability to see cause and effect, the massive importance put on frivolous crap, and the way communities tear down their best members. Here’s the takeaway: nobody who wasn’t white on that farm saw the connection between the yields, the money they were making and the fertilizer. Nobody stopped to think hey, we should buy more of this. 

That’s the insanity of Africa. 200 pound children, blowing huge stacks of cash on magic charms while they grind out a subsistence livelihood on the border of the desert.This is already super long, and I could really go on and on about this subject. There are more stories - the myths of the African family, more stories of faux-communalism, stories about crazy African religion and politics, and so on. The long and short of it, though, is this: they’re not terrible people, they just shouldn’t be anywhere near us. Africa is no shit the Garden of Eden. It’s no mistake that the people living there are giant children. Despite tons of diseases and ferocious animals, they want for nothing. Trees growing fruit are everywhere. Every weed is edible. Before the Western-induced population bomb, I’m not even sure they even required agriculture to feed themselves. If we’re going to live a world where complete ethnic cleansing and colonization is off the table, just let them have their little paradise and leave us alone. They have absolutely nothing to offer us nor anything to gain by interaction with the west. They’re a people frozen in time from tens of thousands of years ago, and I have no trouble leaving them like that."

/pol/ - Politically Incorrect » Thread #30209571

"A fragment from a blog of a Russian man who went on a business trip to South Africa, translated for your convenience.

http://tannen.livejournal.com/66587.html

Me and my friend had to spend roughly 10 hours in Johannesburg. We asked Mikhail and he convinced some kamikaze driver to take us on a tour through the city center. We, the two retards, thought that they were exaggerating about the danger just to frighten us. We thought that we'd get to the center, take a long good stroll through it and show everyone that Russians aren't afraid of anything.

We ended up not even coming close to doing any of these things.

Reason?

We nearly shat ourselves. 

The descent to Johannesburg from the plateau made the city look great. Beautiful, big, modern. Some skyscrapers here and there, some nice Victorian-style buildings. Green lawns, blue sky.
Upon actually entering the city, the picture changed drastically.
It looked completely abandoned.
There was no electricity.
Piles of trash just lying in the streets.
Burst sewer pipes flooding several spots.
The only thing clear of debris was the main road, the only functional electrical devices were the traffic lights.
And this was the city center, the relatively safe part of the city.

Prior to riding into the city, the driver appointed by Mikhail read us a short "do's and don'ts" lecture. He seemed very tense, gulping often and suspiciously looking around as he spoke:

"If you cunts want to survive this, do exactly as I say.
After we enter the city, NO LOUD NOISES, do not ATTRACT ANY ATTENTION!
NO FUCKING IPHONES OR CAMERAS flashing through the car windows!
DO NOT MAKE EYE CONTACT with ghouls! (that's what he called niggers)
And no matter what happens, DO NOT OPEN THE WINDOWS!
Because suddenly a lamp post can fall and block the way, and the ghouls will fucking siege us.
And remember that I have kids, so at least follow these rules for my sake..." 

We spent two hours riding around the city center.
It was quiet enough in the bus to hear a pin drop.
To understand what happened to the city, a small historical flashback is needed.

After the apartheid was over, a two-million swarm of Africans flooded the city, opening the era of African Reqonquista. They were not natives, they just left their usual places in the desert and went wherever life was better. Mikhail, the guy who got us the driver, lived in Johannesburg at that time and told us the following:

In the middle of an ordinary workday, something happened.
The office center's doors opened and an unorganized crowd of several thousand blacks rushed in, carrying their belongings in huge bags. They asked us not to pay any attention to them and continue working, while they were spreading around the building and occupying every bit of territory that was available. Armchairs, stools, sofas, restrooms and hallways - they were everywhere, happily chatting and wasting no time in taking whatever shiny things the building's original denizens had on them.
The office became filled with commotion. Chickens were butchered and gutted in the hallways, tables in audience rooms turned into cooking tables, restrooms became bathhouses.
The polite question "What's going on?" was answered with "This is our home now".
The subsequent, less polite question "What the fuck?!" met a reply "It will be better for everyone".

Mikhail called the cops.
Cops didn't come.
They apologized and explained that exactly the same thing is happening across the entire city.
Then everyone who could started to quietly flee the city, headed towards the suburbs and Cape Town, while erecting barriers to block the paths - hedges, moats, electrified fences. The last district of Johannesburg where you can meet a white man nowadays is the Pretoria suburb. 

After a massive exodus, owners of the buildings started thinking of what to do.

Bingo! They decided that if they switch off the electricity, water and sewer access to the buildings, the ghouls will leave them and return to the savannah.

So, they switched them off.
Ghouls didn't even notice.

Of course, in the savannah they had neither of these modern conveniences. "Where do they shit, then?" I asked Mikhail.
Mikhail replied that the office owners were also puzzled by this - and completely shocked after they found out.

You see, after invading the buildings, none of the ghouls could figure out what elevator shafts were for. Once they ripped out the elevator doors, they spent a few days scratching heads and spitting into the darkness, until it finally occured to them.

"Bless the white man's genius", thought the ghouls, and the shafts became both toilets and garbage dumps ever since. According to Mikhail, it takes roughly ten years for an average ghoul horde to shit up an office building to the point of complete unliveability. After that, like in good old prehistoric times, the horde migrates, occupying another building.  

We rode on through Johannesburg's streets, glued to the car windows, devouring the scenery with our eyes. Fashionable modern houses with boarded-up windows passed us by. When we came across a rare open window, we could see fires burning inside, with ghouls lying or walking around them.

(Once again) According to Mikhail, a new, albeit informal service appeared in Johannesburg. Bunches of tough guys go around offering to take the buildings back from ghouls. It happens like this: in the middle of the night several trucks drive up to the building, and hundred or two of armed thugs goes inside.

Quickly, they grab the sleeping ghouls and simply start throwing them out of the building, trying not to wake the whole horde up. Before the horde completely comes to its senses and starts expressing its displeasure, the thugs weld shut all doors and windows on the first floor and put up an electrified fence. After the building is cleaned and refurbished, it turns back into an office.

That's how the remnants of Johannesburg's white population live and work. In the evening and during the night they keep safe behind armored doors and private guards. In the morning they get into their cars and quickly, without stopping, ride outside their fortresses to work. After a short ride through more-or-less safe streets, they dive into one of the heavily guarded foxholes that leads to the underground parking garages. And that concludes their arrival to the workplace.

Another funny thing I noticed - if two "live" buildings are nearby, they are often connected by an aerial passage at the 10th or 11th floor. So office workers can even visit each other if they want to. The only trick to it is not to look down. Down there is ghoul territory."

 

Related:

 

South Africa fire: What are Johannesburg's hijacked buildings?

"Many buildings in the centre of the South African city of Johannesburg, where a horrific fire has killed more than 70 people, are deemed unfit to live in.

Yet these old blocks, abandoned by their owners or the city authorities, are full of families often paying rent to criminal gangs who run them.

The buildings, which lack running water, toilets or a legal electricity connection, are then said to have been "hijacked".

Scores of people often live in one room, often former offices. Fires are common - though nothing on the scale of the one that went up in flames overnight...

Following the exodus of businesses, the CBD became a no-go area with a reputation for crime and violence, and some buildings were reportedly abandoned by owners as rates owed to the council exceeded their value."

Hijacked Buildings and 'Shock and Awe' Tactics in Johannesburg's Low-Income Black Neighborhoods

"The Kiribilly building is in a desperate state. The floors and walls are filthy, the smell of urine wafts up from the disused elevator shaft. Residents on the upper floors have no water and run a hosepipe through the corridors and over the balconies in an attempt to get water from the ground floor. “My youngest child was staying here this year,” said Gqokoma. “Then I had to send her away to her grandmother because of the situation in these flats.”...

Section 26 of the South African constitution states that everyone “has the right of access to adequate housing” and that “the state must take reasonable legislative and other measures within its available resources to achieve the progressive realization of this right.” The South African Human Rights Commission further elaborates that “the State must create conducive conditions for all of its citizens, irrespective of their economic status, to access affordable housing.”

The constitution and the courts seem to be the last line of defense for low-income inner city residents."

There's a lot of material, so I will continue this in another post.

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