I wanted to love this story a whole lot more than I did. I mean, I am completely in love with Africa and fascinated by the politics. I have been since long before I actually got to travel to that amazing continent. Thus, the idea of a memoir that recounts working for the UN in the Congo sounded amazing. And it was GOOD. But not amazing.
I think one of the aspects of this story that was so difficult was the idea that this radio station was helpful to so many, many, many people. But after reading this, I honestly have no idea HOW. A lot of the information that might exist helped to understand just how a radio station was helpful was assumed knowledge. I might love Africa, but I know very little about the politics as a whole, let alone the specifics of the Congo.
I did enjoy the background on each of Bakody’s team and the tale of their journey to Radio Okapi Kindu. Again, it was hard to gain context because there was no timeline, and I would’ve liked to slot their experiences with the others in a bit more order. But this may just be how my brain processes information and memoirs.
All in all, I did enjoy reading this, I just didn’t love it. It’s not a tale I’m going to overstate and breathlessly recite to my friends. But it’s also not one that I will suggest they NOT read. Mostly for me, this was pretty ambivalent writing.
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