Another Plane Crashes in Congo
***Photo Mvemba Phezo Dizolele – Air Serv Plane at Ndolo Airport
Air travel is no longer the luxury it used to be. Sluggish security checks, long preflight waiting time and ever-changing requirements make frequent travelers wish for a better alternative. Nowhere in the world, however, do I dread flying more than in my native Congo.
On September 2, a small carrier operated by Air Serv International, a Virginia-based company, crashed in eastern Congo, killing all 17 passengers and crewmembers. Another plane, operated by Kinshasa-based Hewa Bora, crashed in the same area five months ago. It seems that every quarter a plane crashes in Congo.
I was born and grew up in Congo. And during my years living there, I only recall a handful of crashes. They were mostly military aircrafts. Back then a plane crash was an extraordinary event – one that rarely happened. I remember them as vividly as the few eclipses I have witnessed in my lifetime. Today, crashes are common occurrences.
The Air Serv crash hits home. I have been on two AirServ chartered flights, much like the one that went down in eastern Congo. The company has an excellent reputation, making it a preferred outfit among international organizations. The aircrafts are manned by professional crews, often American pilots with years of experience. But then again, accidents do happen – even in the best of circumstances. What worries me in Congo’s case is the frequency of theses crashes. Congo may hold the world record of plane crashes.
In May 2007, I traveled from Kinshasa to the Inga Dam, a 45-minute-to-an hour flight on a small plane operated by Filair. The shuttle bussed passengers between Kinshasa, Inga, Matadi, Boma and Moanda.
We took off from Ndolo Airport, followed the Congo River, meandering above the cataracts and negotiated our way through a cloudy sky. A few minutes into the flight, I noticed a fellow across the aisle in front me. Like most passengers, he was dressed for the occasion, suit and tie. Yes, Congolese take air travel seriously. Not everyone can afford to fly. Those who can like to display their buying power. A nice outfit does the trick.
He was hunched down in his seat and appeared tense. His lips were moving — the kind of motion that betrays a fever. He got my attention and I debated whether to page the attendant. Then I noticed that he was tightly holding a rosary in his hands, blue beads with a cross. For the remainder of the flight I kept an eye on him. He never looked up, refused to eat when the attendant served snacks and continued moving his lips. Hail Mary…Our Father, which art in Heaven, Hallowed be Thy Name…Forgive us our trespasses…
When we landed at Inga Airport, I was the only passenger to disembark. I met with my escort and the plane proceeded to Matadi. But the memory of that prayerful fellow has remained with me and I think of him every time I fly. In fact, I envy his faith. He understood the danger of flying. That danger is great in Congo.