Flatless in Kinshasa

One of my previous blog entries elicited responses from an astounded US contingent who understandably couldn’t quite believe that flats in the Democratic Republic of Congo could go for the same price as flats in some of New York City’s finest neighbourhoods. Yet, I can now confirm that the majority of flats going for US$1,500 per month in the Gombe are not even worth looking at. So far, all the ones I saw at that price were, without exception, dark, dingy flats in desperate need of a coat of paint, with broken and/or mouldy furniture, located in dilapidated buildings with dysfunctional elevators. In fact, the only thing of any (dubious) value in these flats was the television, which was invariably a huge, top-of-the-range, flat-screen TV that took up the entire length of the living room – clearly an important selling point by Congolese standards!

Now, I realise that it’s somewhat contradictory to choose a career in international development in the hope of contributing somehow to poverty alleviation, then insisting on coming all the way to Africa – and one of Africa’s poorest countries at that – only to start whinging that the housing on offer is not quite up to my exacting standards. Granted. Furthermore, I realise that the reason the prices are so artificially inflated is precisely because of people like me whose housing is paid for by an employer for whom security is paramount, and who therefore won’t let us even consider living outside the cramped downtown area of Gombe. Agreed. Still, I can’t help but feel that the rates being charged are truly extortionate, and that if I am to pay these prices I should at least feel happy to come home in the evenings.

And I haven’t even given away the best nugget of mind-boggling information yet!

In order to secure one of these precious, priceless flats, it turns out you are expected to pay anything between six months’ and one year’s worth of rent up front, and give the owner a deposit equivalent of three month’s worth of rent, and, if you were lucky enough to benefit from the invaluable services of an estate agent or ‘commissionaire’, you are also expected to pay these delightful people an additional one month’s worth of rent for their trouble. I should mention, in passing, that these are the people who will ring you up excitedly in the middle of the day to tell you that an exceptional flat has just been made available with an absolutely amazing view of the river, that you absolutely have to rearrange your entire day to come visit it now, and when you get there it turns out to be just as squalid as the other flats you’ve seen, and the view is of the port’s scrap yard. And now they’re asking you for US$5 to cover their transportation costs from the office.

So, in desperation, I upped the stakes, and the last flat I saw was going for US$3,000 per month, no less! Nice flat, just the right size, very secure location, entirely renovated, very light and this time with a decent view of the river, brand new furniture…but what furniture! Kitsch par excellence, shiny, white and gold plastic everywhere, definitely better suited to a brash hip-hop video than my relatively simple tastes. In fact, appropriately enough, this time the 150-inch television was accompanied by a mammoth stereo system. I cringed visibly when I entered the living room, but was still thinking, “It’s okay, I could just about deal with this” when I stepped into the bedroom. I keep hoping my memory deceives me, but I do believe the beds had heart-shaped ends – made of shiny white and gold plastic, needless to say – to match the heart-shaped mirror on the dresser. YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAARRRRKKKK!!!

Well, at least now I know where the Grand Hotel Santas would be happy!