And a specialist space-walker from out of darkest Africa

Lusaka, Wednesday: Edward Nkoloso, Zambia’s self-styled Minister of Space Aviation, has come down to earth at last. But he insists it is only a temporary confinement.       Lack of funds for his multi-million pound space project – which aims at putting a Zambian on Mars before anyone else – has forced Mr Nkoloso into a more terrestrial life. He has now been appointed the President’s special overseer at a white-washed complex in Lusaka which houses exiled nationalist organisations.

In deference to his new status, Mr Nkoloso has swopped his monkey-skin space suit for a sober purple toga. But behind the desk in his sparsely-furnished office, the spaceman retains the symbol of his realm – a crested eagle on a dinner place atop a sawn-off broomstick.

Edward Nkoloso hit the headlines two years ago when he announced that he and his student astronauts at Zambia’s Academy of Science and Philosophy were building a six-foot rocket ship at a secret site in the Chongo Valley near Lusaka.

The missile, which he described as being “of Russian and American design with an African firing system”, was intended to put a dog, Cyclops, into space within a few years.

Mr Nkoloso regretted that, for security reasons, he was unable to show international observers the rocket ship.

However, under pressure, he agreed to show them his astronauts in preparation – rolling down steep hills in barrels (to experience weightlessness), springing out of tall trees. One astronaut, who possessed the unusual talent of being able to walk long distances on his hands, was being groomed for a moon shot. For, as Mr Nkoloso pointed out, anyone with any intelligence could see that the surface of the moon must be upside down.

Later, the space programme ran into two snags. First, the United States refused an application from Mr Nkoloso for 20 million dollars in aid. No reasons were given, but the chief astronaut believed that the refusal stemmed from American fears that Zambia would get to Mars first.

Then the Zambian government – pained because foreign correspondents in Lusaka for the anniversary of Zambia’s independence seemed to making more of the academy that of the celebrations – ordered Mr Nkoloso to curb his publicity campaign.

The academy was thrust into temporary liquidation. The twelve apprentice astronauts formed themselves into a rhythm group and their leader went out to work.

Mr Nkoloso’s new job entails looking after the interests of refugees who run the exiled organisations and, as he puts it, “seeing that they keep out of trouble”.

By that he means trouble with the Zambian government, for the gun-running activities of certain of the groups have recently caused the Lusaka authorities great concern.

From One Man’s Africa.