Africa 7: Bombs away!

Today we helped the UN to blow up a bomb. Well I say we helped, obviously we didn’t actually do anything explosives wise, but we were basically on the front line.

We got chatting to a couple of soldiers over lunch – we had heard explosions all morning and knew that they were carrying out controlled detonations of bombs left over from the war. They must have sensed that we were awestruck because they invited us to accompany them on their next mission. And so we did, giggling like school kids all the way.

Ten minutes later we find ourselves staring at a R.P.G. missile. We watch, wide eyed, as one of the soldiers smashes up sticks of plastic explosive and rolls it together to make what looks like a big black lump of plasticine. Amongst all the action my mind wanders off, I muse as to whether it would be pliable enough to squeeze through one of those old-fashioned playdoh factories. Clearly I’d make a poor soldier.

They pull out wires and fuses from their van and get to work rigging the explosives, while one of their colleagues talks over a mega phone to the villagers who have gathered to see what is going on: “Move away. There is a bomb here…please do not be scared” For a country that has experienced fourteen years of civil war, I think the ‘Please do not be scared’ request is quite an ask.

Once everything is in place we are instructed to move further up the road away from the explosion. I happily oblige, my casual walk quickly turning into an Olympic sprint. It has crossed my mind a couple of times that we are standing next to an actual bomb with a group of men we have never met – we literally ditched our lunch and followed them at the first mention of an explosive. Possibly not the most sensible idea we’ve had so far.

Anyway it’s too late now. I find myself counting down with one of the soldiers. Twenty, nineteen, eighteen – he yawns for about five seconds but when he’s finished, starts the count down at eighteen again. Mildly alarmed, I take a couple of steps back, just to be ‘safe’.

As the countdown reaches its finale, we all hold our breath. I close an eye.

There’s no explosion.

The crack team of soldiers are puzzled, one scratches his wiry beard and shrugs his shoulders, while one of his colleagues looks at his mobile phone – hardly the time to check your messages.

Suddenly an almighty explosion rocks the ground – everyone applauds and I find myself high-fiving the soldiers, I feel like I’m a comrade.

Clearly I’m not the only one - I get a glimpse of Simon standing in the middle of the road wearing a UN helmet, a huge grin lights up his face. His Jack Bauer moment has finally dawned.