Someone said the airport at Cabinda is ready to be reopened today.
Someone said the President will be there today, and the people will be celebrating
Someone said there’s been a witch-hunt in Cabinda, and the people have been arrested
Someone said a journalist has been questioned by members of the secret police
Someone said Cabinda is literally under seige
Someone said the President will be opening a new supermarket
Someone said he will be hailed as the architect of peace and harmony
Someone said the supporters have been ordered to give a good welcome
Someone said that while the President’s there, no one can use their mobile phone
Someone said the President is frightened of the people of Cabinda
Someone said Cabindans are celebrating one year of peace
Someone said the year of peace has suffered no setbacks
Someone said they’re looking forward to the basketball tournament next week
Someone said that 362 illegal foreigners have been arrested to ensure the tournament is safe
Someone said Chevron has found more oil off the coast of Cabinda in Block 14
Someone said the opposition parties in Angola never do anything
Someone said that three members of the Front for Democracy were arrested last night
Someone said the President’s safety is paramount
Someone wrote to the Attorney General requesting that the three men be freed
Someone said the Attorney General is busy
Someone asked, where’s Cabinda?
Someone said, unfortunately it’s not in Zimbabwe
Meanwhile, in the land of Lower Clapton, the following is taking place: the lady from yesterday’s post has passed by, quite quietly, twice already today. The 242 has passed about 5 times. I’ve lost count. And I’m listening to Traum. It’s great for working and thinking. It’s suitably solemn, but so beautiful I keep wanting more. It’s how I want bits of my book to feel. And I’m now not only adoring of The Sharp Side blog (does Ellis never have bad days? It seems not….), but of Jenny Diski’s reviews too. Another in this week’s LRB on a Princess Margaret biography is as good as last week’s. Possibly even better. Diski defines, for me, the art of writing beautifully acerbic and comic reviews of awful and awfully dull books.