adam and matthew. in a turbulent and often dangerous working life, she and their two boys were the still and unwavering centre of his existence his solid ground. and welcome to the rainbow nation. forjust over a year now, south africa has been my base as the bbc s africa correspondent. i knew george as a foreign correspondent. we worked together in africa, the continent whose fate ran through his life like a thread through cloth. so, this is where. your house? hey? oh, it s nice, it s nice. i thought of him as a kind of mentor, i was inspired by his example. he was brave, calm and kind. ok, you get the water from here and do that. i admired his gift for reaching into the hearts of those caught up in war or natural disaster. winning their trust, even at the worst moments of their lives. in a refugee camp in eastern zaire, hundreds were dying every day
as the bbc s africa correspondent. i knew george as a foreign correspondent. we worked together in africa, the continent whose fate ran through his life like a thread through cloth. so this is your house? oh, it s nice. it s nice. i thought of him as a kind of mentor. i was inspired by his example. he was brave, calm and kind. ok, you get the water from here and do that. i admired his gift for reaching into the hearts of those caught up in war or natural disaster, winning their trust even at the worst moments of their lives. in a refugee camp in eastern zaire, hundreds were dying every day of preventable illness. i asked her what she wanted from life. ajob , she said, so i can look after little petty. in somalia, he met a woman whose ten year old daughter had just died. his own children were about the same age. it seemed wrong to be there at what should have been a moment of private grief.
foreign correspondent. we worked together in africa, the continent whose fate ran through his life like a thread through cloth. so, this is where. your house? hey? oh, it s nice, it s nice. i thought of him as a kind of mentor, i was inspired by his example. he was brave, calm and kind. ok, you get the water from here and do that. i admired his gift for reaching into the hearts of those caught up in war or natural disaster. winning their trust, even at the worst moments of their lives. in a refugee camp in eastern zaire, hundreds were dying every day of preventable illness. i asked her what she wanted from life. ajob, she said, so i can look after little petty. in somalia he met a woman whose ten year old daughter had just died. his own children were about the same age. it seemed wrong to be there at what should have been a moment of private grief. she said it was all right if it might help to save her other daughter. i haven t the heart to count and it doesn t really matter.
and not in a rhetorical and not in a rhetorical way. not in a speechifying way. he was somebody who at his very heart, as well as being a brilliant storyteller, knew that stories and the stories that he told ware storyteller, knew that stories and the stories that he told were about the lives of real people. this is particularly the case in africa. i remember being at a party with him once, and somebody was not long after the rwanda genocide, and i covered the genocide and george had been there for the massive, he was there during the genocide but also the massive exodus of refugees into what was then zaire. somebody at this party in our company made the remark, oh, well, that s africa, baby. and george, he wasn t the kind of person who would ever turn on somebody in an angry way, but he said, no, i m sorry, that s wrong. he said, that is not africa.
winning their trust, even at the worst moments of their lives. in a refugee camp in eastern zaire, hundreds were dying every day of preventable illness. i asked her what she wanted from life. ajob, she said, so i can look after little petty. in somalia, he met a woman whose ten year old daughter had just died. his own children were about the same age. it seemed wrong to be there at what should have been a moment of private grief. she said it was all right if it might help to save her other daughter. i haven t the heart to count and it doesn t really matter. there were moments when he crossed the line between merely witnessing and actively intervening in the pain of others. we took those we could manage to the french military hospital. at times like this it s impossible not to cross the line that divides us, the observers, and those we observe. the rwandese translator we worked with then, seth ngarambe, told us his tutsi wife had been murdered by hutu extremists.