“If you hire everyone as police and keep beer super cheap, even Equatorial Guinea’s forty-year dictatorship will seem like paradise.”
Check this out, Kim.
Three of the world’s top four, longest serving dictators rule in central Africa.
Equatorial Guinea’s strong man has been killing his rivals for forty years. He wins the silver medal in the despot marathon.
The gold medal goes to Cameroon’s goon at forty-four years of tyranny, and just missing the bronze medal is Congo’s thug at thirty-five years of autocratic thievery.
Only Iran keeps central Africa from a medal sweep at the oppressor Olympics.
I just backpacked through mainland Equatorial Guinea and central Africa. It wasn’t fun.
But I learned a lot.
I learned that Equatorial Guinea (EG) is one of the weirdest countries on the planet. First of all, EG was Spain’s only colony in Africa, and now it’s the only Spanish speaking country on the African continent.
EG was just another African backwater until oil and gas were discovered offshore in 1996. EG is tiny—a bit larger than the state of Vermont—but they’re Africa’s fourth largest oil producer and joined OPEC in 2017.
And I learned that EG’s president and his extended family steal most of the oil revenue. His playboy son, who is also vice president, was convicted in absentia in France for stealing public money to buy yachts, cars, and mansions in Paris and Malibu.
Even as recently as 2018, Brazilian police confiscated the princeling VP’s bling-bling, so father and son are still pillaging EG.
The oil producing countries in central Africa should be wealthy and enjoy a relatively high standard of living, like the Arab Gulf states. But central Africa’s douche bag dictators steal all the oil and natural resource revenue, so instead, they have some of the lowest living standards on earth.
Sadly, US oil companies are investing billions in EG to develop new, offshore oil fields.
But I benefitted directly from these US oil companies. Thousands of American oilmen and women work in EG—mostly offshore and on the island of Malabo, not on the mainland where I visited—so Americans enter visa-free.
That’s a big deal, Kim. EG is one of the world’s toughest countries to enter as a tourist, and their embassy staff in neighboring countries are notorious for denying tourist visa applications. EG has everything to hide.
While visiting EG, I learned that I need a new strategy for fighting off corrupt African police. I was extorted for money from arrival until departure. In my first shared taxi ride—a fifty mile drive from Kogo to Mbini—I ran a gauntlet of four police checkpoints but miraculously escaped with only a two-dollar loss.
I didn’t have the willpower to battle any more police goons, so I took my Nigerian fixer’s advice and hired his friend—a two-star police captain—to drive me twenty-eight miles from Mbini to Bata.
“It felt so good to be saluted instead of extorted.”
I witnessed the results of these long-running, corrupt dictatorships; shitty roads, pathetic public transpo, lack of clean, running water, power outages, widespread alcoholism, brazen police extortion, and no customer service.
But, believe it or not, Kim, there’s a good side to a forty-year dictatorship. Sort of.
I made friends with several Nigerians working in EG. Without me even asking, they offered a ton of cultural tidbits about EG.
My Nigerian fixer, Mansaka, introduced me to his EG policeman-friend, Martin, who invited us to lunch and treated me like a king.
Martin is a perfect example for my first tip on being a kick-ass dictator.
#1 Hire Everyone As Police
Drinking beers with Mansaka was like attending Intro To Equatorial Guinea 101. He pointed out all the police at the other tables. Almost everyone was a policeman! Many of them were drinking while on duty. That’s my kind of job, Sis!
“This country has one million people, and they have eight-hundred thousand police,” Mansaka said.
Martin bought me a beer and then made egg sandwiches at his apartment in the police barracks. He asked me if I liked EG.
I lied and said yes.
Martin is a happy camper.
“Guinea Equatorial es muy bueno … seguridad … y buen comida.”
He truly believed that living in EG was nice; it was peaceful, safe, and they had good food.
Martin was a beneficiary of the EG state; he had a free, two-bedroom apartment, a freezer full of food, a big, flat-screen TV with huge, Bluetooth enabled speakers, and a car (that he proudly pointed to).
“His monthly salary is between two and three hundred thousand francs (US$350-500),” Mansaka said enviously.
The average citizen in neighboring Congo, Cameroon, and Angola would die for Martin’s gig.
Maybe living in a peaceful dictatorship isn’t so bad after all, Kim.
#2 Keep Local Beer Prices Super Cheap
In EG, a twelve-ounce can of beer costs only two-hundred-fifty francs (CFA), that’s forty-three cents, Kim! It’s the only place I’ve visited where a can of local beer is the same price in the grocery store and at the bar. Maybe the government uses oil revenue to subsidize the local brewery.
Another Nigerian, Gabriel, told me the EG locals enjoy living a carefree, laid back lifestyle. This includes a lot of drinking.
My hotel in Mbini overlooked the “plaza” that was full of bars. Each one had their own music blasting from big speakers and stayed open twenty hours a day.
So, Kim, if rookie dictators keep beer prices super cheap—and salaries relatively high—the population stays buzzed and obedient.
#3 Give Away Colorful Fabric Imprinted With Your Photo and Political Party
Throughout Africa, political parties provide free fabric imprinted with their leader’s photo—usually the president—to make dresses, shorts and other clothes. It’s great marketing and you can also see who’s loyal.
Martin showed off his presidential loyalty by wearing EG president Obiang’s mug and political party on his shorts.
Hey, Sis, I wonder how much you could get for a forty-year-old Obiang dress on eBay.
Older dictators should use a twenty-year-old photo—like Cameroon’s gold medalist goon in the photo above—so they look better. Younger.
#4 Arrest, Torture, and Kill Anyone That Opposes You
EG’s transparency and human rights record is pathetic, the government routinely jails and tortures opponents. Of course, I didn’t see any of this. But I did see the direct effect of this oppression.
In Kogo I made friends with yet another Nigerian working at the hotel (just in case, he’ll remain nameless). He said, “one family controls the whole country.”
“If you complain, they’ll just arrest you. You’ll disappear.”
So, Kim, fledgling dictators should hire “party supporters”—aka thugs—to beat up, intimidate, and suppress members of the opposition. And have their police force arrest and torture anyone that gets in their way.
#5 If You Get Caught With Your Hand In The Cookie Jar, Flee To Equatorial Guinea
In Africa, peaceful, democratic changes of power are rare. But I experienced one first-hand by sweating out a state-of-emergency in Gambia.
Sis, do you remember my Gambia has decided story?
Gambia’s dickhead dictator of twenty-two years, Yahya Jammeh, refused to step down after losing their 2016 presidential election. Troops from ECOWAS entered Gambia and the risk of civil war—or at least inter-tribal bloodshed—was extremely high for a week.
Finally, several of Jammeh’s dictator buddies persuaded him to leave peacefully, but he stole millions before fleeing.
Guess where Jammeh went, Kim?
You got it, Equatorial Guinea. It seems Jammeh and EG president Obiang are despot bros now.
EG is the perfect place for fleeing tyrants, because they’re not a member of the International Criminal Court (ICC). So, even if you’re caught red-handed, you can’t be extradited to The Hague for prosecution.
“Hopefully these tips will be helpful for aspiring dictators.”
Kim’s View–Equatorial Guinea is in Bata at a small, beach resort in front of a popular restaurant and bar. I splurged five bucks for a lounge chair and palapa hut.
But as I was spreading ashes, a gang of pre-teen, poor kids invaded the beach. They sat on the lounge chairs and pretended to drink soda and beer from empty bottles. After two security guards chased them away—and landed a few punches and kicks—the kids rained bottles on us and taunted the guards.
Geez, Sis, even getting Kim’s View in Equatorial Guinea was a weird experience.
