The Man Who Could Stop Planes

8/16/2019 The Man Who Could Stop Planes

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The man who could stop planes

For three trying days I had been traversing Africa, trying to get from Niger to Kenya. The

bulk of my time had been spent dealing with sour officials, hopelessly battling malarialmosuitoes and sitting wretchedly in filthy, stinking!hot airports. I had come from three

tough but rewarding weeks in the "ahara, and the great beauty and monstrous insouciance

of the desert had left me with a feeling of serene detachment.

#y the time I arrived in $ohannesburg to catch my fourth and final flight to Nairobi % &'

hours behind schedule % that hard!earned peaceful detachment had gone. All tolerance had

fled. I had () minutes to catch my flight, and I was faced with an obscenely lengthy ueue

snaking towards a line of passport control booths.

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"outh Africa, a crucible of long!uashed anger and a now!flailing backlash, was in turmoil.

1orld press had sei2ed on the stories of crime, violence and internationally linked

corruption. In response, "outh Africa3s authorities had decided to force all visitors, even

those transiting, to undergo document inspections. This impossible delay rang a resounding

death knell to my Kenya safari plans.

I stared out of an airport window in misery. 4usk was approaching. 5ain e6ploded on the

ground. 7unched, glistening figures lurched through the downpour as if under attack. The

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thought of being caught in this city alone, with no money to afford a decent hotel, struck me

with paraly2ing dread.

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1hen I turned back to the room, there was a young man lingering beside me. I stared at him

stonily, in no mood for small talk.

87ello,9 he said cheerfully. 8+an I help you: ;ou look in need of some assistance.9

I


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81ait here,9 he instructed, indicating a row of seats. 81hich airline were you on: 5ight

then, let me see if I can hold that flight for you. 1on3t be a mo3.9

I sat, trying to imagine who this young man could be that he could circumvent immigration

officials and stop planes.

7e returned shaking his head. 8"orry, it3s gone. It was the last one out tonight and all the

flights tomorrow are solidly booked.9

I obviously looked stricken as he then said, 84on3t worry, we3ll get you on a plane. I3m

5on@, by the way.9 7e stuck out his hand.

+urious as to whom the we was that could get me on a flight, I looked him in the eyes and

asked, 85on, I was wonderingB how did you know I needed help back there: 4o you work

here: 1hat is it you do:9

8F#I,9 he replied, as casually as if he3d said


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mingle with crowds and look for an6ious people % suspects in fact. And you looked rather

an6ious.9

8;ou thought I was smuggling drugs:9 I said, horrified.

8No, no,9 he answered earnestly, smiling. 8I


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8ook,9 he said kindly. 8;ou look tired. 4o you have somewhere you can go: I know a

hotel. It3s not too e6pensive, and it3s clean, safe, relatively close. I could drop you off there,

it3s on my way home. 1e3ll pick up your luggageG they3ll send it through now that you

missed the flight.9

I was at the point where I had to decide whether to trust him or not. 1omen travelling alone

are persistently faced with this dilemma. 5ather than be paraly2ed by suspicion, we have to

learn to rely on the murmurings of instinct, to calculate the risk % and then in the end to hope

like hell those instincts are correct.

84o you happen to have any I4 on you, 5on:9 I asked. 8I don3t doubt you, but, you know,

it3s


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I had nothing better to do, and by now I was e6tremely curious. I followed.

1e stopped at an airport restaurant where 5on purchased meals in large uantities,

e6plaining the situation as he took the money out of his wallet.

81e arrested some ?akistanis this morning. They were trying to get up to Nairobi on false

passports. 1e3re deporting them tomorrow. $ust thought I3d drop by and deliver this to

them. The police can3t afford food for deportees here.9

I was surprised by how much he was telling me, and even more so as I followed him behind

the security doors and through the inner workings of the airport. ?eople nodded at 5on, but

no!one bothered to ask who I was or why I was there. ?robably they assumed I was a

suspect.

1e entered a barren concrete building ad


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crouched on a narrow bed and another two on the floor. They were in their =s, dressed in

dark 1estern clothing. Their eyes were as black as ony6 and hard with bitterness and defeat.

5on set the food on a table, speaking in a language I did not recogni2e, probably Crdu. The

men muttered. >ne said something and 5on dug into his pocket and tossed him a pack of

cigarettes. The man inclined his head in grudging thanks. 1e left the building in silence.

8;ou must be hungry, too,9 5on said cheerfully as we re!entered the airport to get my bags.

8+ome on, we3ll stop on the way to your hotel.9

He spoke 2 languages! he could tell the time by the sun.

>ver dinner, we spoke mostly about 5on3s


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At the airport 5on disappeared, returning with a boarding pass.

8-ot you on. The airline thinks you are a deportee, but you shouldn3t care so long as you get

there. There won3t be any record of it, don3t worry.9

I wasn3t sure how to thank him adeuately for all he had done. 7e had undoubtedly broken

rules for me, or most certainly bent them. I wondered if he3d bumped some other traveller

from the flight and felt momentary guilt.

As he walked me to the gate, I asked him something I3d wondered the night before.


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81hy did you feed those men, 5on: ;ou paid with your own money, didn3t you: I mean,

they looked terribly shady.9

5on sighed and his chin dropped. I felt as if I3d said something dreadful, something terribly

disappointing. 7e stopped walking. 8This


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5on!the!F#I!agent was right, and not only did he help me, a complete stranger, that day, but

he taught me a lesson I shall take to my grave our world

The Man Who Could Stop Planes

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