Today I picked up the international edition of the guardian here in essaouira to read at one of the outdoor cafes in the main square. I was reading an article about the wretched rape and pillage ghost armies roaming around the eastern Congo. Sitting next to me was a young nouveau riché Moroccan couple which I noticed in part because they were speaking French rather than Arabic. I was reminded by the article in front of me and the couple next to me that Africa is a, no, the, continent of contradictions.

The article detailed the plight of young women who are in the unfortunate position of living in the Democratic Republic of Congo's far eastern tracts near the borders with Rwanda, Uganda and such. In this light, one realizes that Morocco is relatively prosperous by comparison. What was startling to me was reading this article not from a continent away, but from here in Africa. Sure many of the tourists here, particularly the French, might be under the illusion that this country is merely an extension of their former empire.

At that moment I was struck by the fact that the Heart of Darkness is not all that far and that the brutality is real and the legacy of the Hutu genocidairés has yet to be swept under the carpet of history. Shocking.