A Passage To Africa is a moving, touching account of what George Alagiah felt and experienced

in a small village in Somalia, Africa.

The beginning of the passage is a one sentence introductory paragraph starting with a series of
adjectives in rapid succession: ‘thousand, hungry, lean, scared and betrayed faces.’ Showing the
turmoil of emotions the author felt, unable to pin down the description of the faces in one word,
it also evokes at once the curiosity of the reader as well as lays the ground work for the setting: a
general picture of death and disease form in one’s mind. The use of the noun ‘faces’, not names,
not people, but ‘faces’ shows the impersonal detachment of the author. They aren’t human
beings to him; they are just faces, just surfaces and expressions. This is emphasized in the ending
of the sentence: ‘…but there is one I will never forget.’ Along with informing us about a meeting
which was so exceptional that the author cannot forget it, it also implies that the rest of the death
and suffering he sees around him are very much forgettable and don’t really affect him.

The setting is cemented in the second paragraph: the use of the archaic noun ‘hamlet’ to describe
the small village, the hyperbole ‘back of beyond’, the fact that agencies cannot reach that village,
the long sentence giving directions of how to reach there, the dash before further elaborating on
the bleak picture and the use of the simile comparing the place to a ‘ghost village’; all convey the
isolation of the village, its detachment from the rest of the world, along with giving the reader a
sense of the unnatural death and disease which surrounds the settlement.

We find out in the third paragraph what the journalists are doing in such a village. They are
looking for pictures for their newspaper. The writer’s disgust at his own job shows in the way he
describes their job as a ‘ghoulish hunt’, looking for ‘striking pictures.’ These words refer
indirectly to the prey/predator metaphor, where the journalists are the searchers, the ferocious
and ruthless hunters, looking for ways to exploit the suffering and deaths of the village locals,
who become the helpless victims.
This simultaneous degradation of the village people and elevation of the journalists is ironic, as it
proves that in the author’s mind it is the village people who are above them as he views himself
as nothing more than a relentless animalistic hunter who is following a trail. This hatred that he
harbours for his own feelings is explained when he admits that all those things that might have
appalled him before don’t even leave an impression on him now, showing how his job is
changing him, making him harder, more cynical and detached.

Pathos and pity are evoked in the reader by the next paragraph, its impact strengthened by the
use of names as the plight of two daughters and their mother is described. The anaphora in ‘no
rage, no whimpering’, the dash followed by adjectives such as ‘motionless, simple and
frictionless’; all are used to diminish death, as if it is a matter of no importance or significance,
an everyday occurrence which is inevitable. Seeing death up close on a daily basis, Alagiah feels
that it is rather life which is the difficult part, as conveyed by his description of the girl’s
existence as a ‘half-life’ and her death as ‘deliverance’ as if life is a punishment, something to be
saved from.
His cynicism is again shown in how he refers to the famine which permeates the place as ‘a
famine away from the headlines,’ as if all of the desolate scenes around him are not gruesome
enough anymore to act as material for news. The ghastly horror of slow death does not hold the
strength to leave an impact on anyone.

The following description of the old, wounded woman lying ‘abandoned’ in her hut acts as proof
for the prior admission that such scenes aren’t newsworthy. The paradox in ‘the gentle V-shaped
boomerang’ casts a ghastly and vivid mental picture of the wound, as well as draws attention to
the fact that an old lady is suffering from a war wound.

The simple one sentence sixth paragraph ‘And then there was the face I will never forget’
implies the great significance of the meeting it alludes to and how important it must have been
for the author.

The day of the meeting which has till now only been hinted at is next described. The writer
recounts how everyone else he met that day caused him to feel revulsion or pity. The repetition
of this fact in a short sentence: ‘Yes, revulsion,’ not only implies that the readers should be
confused and shocked by this, but also shows how the author himself is surprised and perhaps
ashamed in admitting this but feels a determination to do so. His disregard for the ‘taboo’ by
stating a fact that most journalists choose to ignore, places him in a positive light despite his
revolting admission. The reader is moved by his honesty and frankness and trusts his point of
view because of this. His revulsion is explained in his description of the feeding camp, where
people are ‘beyond controlling their bodily function.’ The reader too is disgusted by the effect of
the imagery, despite the intense pathos which the scene evokes. He cleans his hands
‘surreptitiously’ as if he knows that he should not be feeling disgust, as if he tries to hide it.

The height of pity is reached in the eighth paragraph when Alagiah describes how the people,
defeated by death, still refuse to give up whatever remnant of dignity they have left: the woman
covers herself up, the man does not let go of his gardening hoe. These people are dignified even
in their defeat. Among these is the face Alagiah catches sight of, the face that smiles. It is a face,
not a man, not a name, simply a face; as were those faces that he saw and forgot that were
mentioned before. But the smile is what makes it special, something unearthly in its beauty. He
cannot pin down what the smile means, he describes it in negative sentences, it is not one of
greeting or joy. He wonders at it as it has moved him to a feeling much ‘beyond pity and
revulsion.’

The verb ‘clicked’ signifies a sudden realization, an epiphany which the author experiences as he
realizes that the smile has been one of shameful apology. He is moved with disgust at himself
and appreciation for the man’s courage and dignity. The irony is evident. The man surrounded by
death, disease, suffering and destruction is ashamed of his circumstances and appearance, but the
man who is healthy, well-fed, confident and strong stands among them unashamed. Alagiah
admits that the smile got to him in a way that death, misery and everything else could not, using
short direct sentences to explain his meaning. The fact that the man tries to apologize for his
suffering metaphorically ‘cut to his heart,’ so deep is the effect of the man’s smile on him.
This incident, isolated and alone, was what made the author determined to write about the plight
of the Africans with all his heart and soul. He regrets in the end that he does not know the man’s
name, implying that his name wasn’t all that important. Not as important as his message anyway.
The ending is distinctive and different: Alagiah expresses his gratitude, his awe, his acceptance,
and his apology to the nameless man who smiled at him amidst the suffering, when he says: “I
owe you one.”

This text is an impressive comment on society: one that makes the reader pause and ask
themselves what the world has come to. The glance at two different worlds, the poverty and
suffering of one, and the apathy and coldness of the other is made evident here. This is done
through the eyes of the journalist, the man who lives these two different realities. The person
who sees the suffering around him, feels the sorrow and pity which is expected from a human
being, but does nothing to stop it, instead is forced to exploit all that he sees for the sake of his
job and profession. Something which is so wholly against human nature changes the journalist: it
makes him cynical, detached, emotionally and spiritually dead, and the search for the next big
break, the next shocking tale becomes his ‘drug’, the high he craves lying in the suffering of
others. It makes him nearly inhuman, to the extent that he feels like an animal, a parasite living
off others’ lives.
The passage also raises several questions and emotions in the reader. We are comfortable in our
own lives, while in parts of the world people are dying by the thousands every day.