Original subtitles

We're right on the equator

at 0.0 degrees, according to this clever gadget.

We're off the coast of West Africa and about to land on a beach

in Gabon and begin our journey following the equator across Africa.

Into six feet of water!

Right in the middle of the world!

The equator, zero degrees latitude.

It's a journey of nearly 25,000 miles through a unique region of the planet,

and countries suffering from war, poverty, disease, and corruption.

I began my journey in Africa, where I had to cross a war zone and came face to face with a killer disease.

Still, it all started rather promisingly.

At first glance, the capital Libreville looks pretty prosperous, even glitzy.

My guide Linel, a local journalist, told me Libreville,

with its miles of sandy beaches, nightclubs and casinos

is one of the most expensive cities in Africa.

The reason Gabon is fairly well off is its huge oil reserves, which have made a few people here very rich.

But critics say Gabon's President, Omar Bongo, has failed to spend the oil money wisely.

The President has ruled Gabon since 1967, making him Africa's longest-serving leader,

but he's still very paranoid about how he's portrayed.

We've been told not to film that building because it's President Bongo's Presidential Palace.

But the real reason they don't want anybody to film it is that they've spent

of millions of dollars on it and the architecture is rubbish.

There's a lot of expensive cars in this car park.

We've got a Land Cruiser here, a customised Mercedes here,

we've got a Lexus here and this is just the local supermarket car park!

Linel took me to buy some provisions as we began our trip across this old French colony.

Now, where are these?

From France.

Oh, that's ridiculous! You're... You're importing food from Europe.

From Europe, from everywhere because we're not producing things here.

Look at this! Produce of Chile.

That's slightly mad to be doing that, isn't it?

But when you have oil you can do anything you want!

Gabon's oil wealth has encouraged a flood of imports,

and over the past 30 years, Gabon's farming industry has slowly collapsed.

We've got some pate - whole goose foie gras.

Does it get more French? £43.00! £43, yes.

That's the salary of a worker, it can be the salary...

That's a huge sum of money. Yeah, it's a huge sum.

Now hang on, is this... Is this... Have we found something that is made in Gabon? This is made in Gabon.

We've finally found something. It's a kind of um, local spice.

We should support the fledgling Gabonese agricultural industry.

Local flavour. Yeah. Yeah. I think we should get some of this...

This will be...

The fledgling agricultural industry. What else is this?

I like that Simon, I like that, the fledgling industry!

Prices are so high in Libreville that this supermarket has

to have a man with a shotgun just to make sure everybody coughs up.

Bonsoir, monsieur. Bonsoir.

Merci!

But the oil reserves are now starting to run out, and without

much of a farming industry, this spells serious trouble for the 1.5 million inhabitants.

Linel took me to a more typical street market, just a mile from the supermarket.

These bananas are about... they're about two British pounds.

They're still expensive, I would have thought...

they would be cheaper in a street market. Bananas are expensive.

But we are in Africa! Surely...

Yeah, we're in Africa but Gabon is not...

These bananas, most of the bananas come from neighbouring Cameroon.

Is this the reality of Gabon, or is the reality of Gabon the big supermarkets?

This is the reality of Gabon, because most of the people,

the majority of the people live in this kind of conditions.

There's only one railway line here and trains run just three times a week.

If you miss one, it's a two-day wait for the next, so Linel and I were in a hurry!

Hopefully, we've made it but we haven't got much time.

Vous etes en retard.

You are late, but exceptionally...!

You are very kind! Thank you very much.

We're going to be the last passengers on.

With oil reserves starting to dwindle, President Bongo has come up with a plan.

He's decided eco-tourism could be the new money-earner,

and recently, almost overnight, he turned 11% of the country into protected national parks.

It sounded great for Gabon's wildlife, but what about the people who used to live off that land?

I headed east along the equator to find out.

Right now, we're racing towards the equator,

23, 14, 4... We've just crossed it.

We've just crossed the equator!

As you can see, everybody in the train is very excited by this event,

everybody's up in arms having traditional celebrations for the equatorial crossing(!)

If the President's eco-tourism plan is to work, he might need to modernise the railway.

The trains were beginning to show some wear and tear, and then I saw the track.

This bridge is very dangerous, that's why the train is slowly moving.

(Is that why you're talking so quietly?)

Yes, maybe the noise might

just cause an accident.

(And the water looks quite deep.) Yes, of course.

And I cannot swim.

Sticking to the equator was never going to be easy.

The train headed north, so we had to hire cars to carry on towards the village of Makougue.

But even 4x4s struggle on these roads, especially after it's rained.

The road is really, really bad - we cannot go on in the car,

we will have to stop and walk.

I think it'll be all right, we should be able to get out of there.

These cars don't have winches on them, so if one gets stuck,

we can't pull the other one out.

The villagers in Makougue lived off the land until last year, when the president turned the surrounding

area into a national park and stopped people hunting animals as part of his eco-tourism plan.

Because the local wildlife is now protected, the villagers have to find a new way of earning a living,

in this case putting on traditional dances for tourists.

The Chief and his village are making the best of it.

Enchante... Simon. Simon.

TRANSLATION FROM FRENCH: They banned us from killing animals in the forest.

So we've stopped hunting and allowed tourists to come and visit us.

We need you to give us publicity.

You should say that tourists are welcome in Makougue.

They must come here.

SINGING AND DRUMMING

I'd only been travelling along the equator for a week, and knew it was never going to be easy.

But the next morning, I discovered it was about to get even harder.

We have a bit of a problem with our vehicles.

Last night, the owner of the cars announced

that we would have to pay over a £1,000, so nearly $2,000,

if we wanted the cars to stay with us.

It's basically bribery.

The drivers have been told they've got to go back to Libreville,

and the owner of the cars just seems quite happy just to abandon us,

completely abandon us, in the rainforest.

Well, the drivers are nice guys, but their bosses are complete thieving BEEP!

I mean, what a bunch of BEEP!

I wouldn't pay them £1,000 - $2,000!

Absolutely outrageous!

We'd been abandoned in a remote area under potential threat from the deadly Ebola virus.

It can spread to humans from apes, and has killed a third of the world's gorillas in the past decade.

Ebola victims can bleed from every orifice until they die.

Something I was hoping to avoid.

You've gone immediately for the very lightest one!

Finally we made it out of the jungle.

Our rescuers ran an ape research centre monitoring the local gorilla population.

This is a gorilla's head, this is a chimpanzee.

It's not good touching that. Oh, sorry, for me or for them?

Ebola!

So it's not good for me to touch it because of Ebola.

Right. Great(!)

Luckily, for emergencies like Ebola, I have my special disinfectant.

He was joking. He was joking.

I'm not taking a chance, you can't joke about Ebola!

After trekking for miles through the lush rainforest, all I wanted to do was cool off.

Bye-bye!

In the end, it wasn't Ebola that stopped me in my tracks.

Where we were planning to go next, the um,...

Start again, shall I? My brain's not working. I feel so rough.

After I vomited blood, Linel called in a doctor.

What do you think it is?

Er...malaria.

It's malaria,

according to him.

He thinks it's malaria?

I keep getting that rush of saliva into my mouth that you get when you're about to vomit.

It's horrible.

HE SIGHS

So much for travelling round the equator.

After treatment, I was told to rest until I was strong enough to head

to my next stop, the Democratic Republic of Congo,

one of the most dangerous countries on the planet.

First we had to fly south of the equator,

to the capital Kinshasa, to clear immigration.

I'm just getting ready to fly up north

into the equatorial bit of DRC,

going to a town called Mbandaka, but, luckily,

we're not going in this plane, we're going in this nice shiny one.

We're off up the River Congo.

On our right, we've got the Democratic Republic of Congo and on the left is Congo Brazzaville.

The equator crosses part of Congo Brazzaville, but local villagers blame foreigners

for recent Ebola outbreaks, and we were told that if we landed there, we might be attacked and killed.

So instead we carried on along the equator to the Democratic Republic of Congo.

It's a country the size of Western Europe.

A terrible war here has led to at least four million deaths since 1998.

Well, the heat certainly would suggest that we're back on the Equator.

Let's see what the technology says...

Just got to get a signal first of all.

Actually, when you've been away from it for a short while,

you start to forget just how... just how hot it is - absolutely scorching!

There are very few cars on the roads of the Congo,

but my guide Emery was taking me to a village on the equator that had suffered during Congo's civil war.

I wanted to see what life was like in the aftermath

of the deadliest conflict on the planet since World War Two.

As we drove east towards the village, we passed by a once-famous botanical garden.

Many of the trees have been cut down, and I soon discovered why.

How far have you had to carry this?

EMERY TRANSLATES

About four kilometres so far.

Nogozi seemed relieved to stop for a chat.

Merci beaucoup.

It was heavy for me.

It was heavy for me.

Can I ask you a cheeky question?

How old are you?

68. I would look much younger if I hadn't had to work so hard...

It's weakened me.

How much money do you get for the wood that you've been carrying?

400 to 500 francs a day.

400 francs is not a lot.

42p.

You can't buy enough to eat with 400 francs.

Merci, monsieur, merci.

To reach the village of Ngamba Kinshasa,

we had to travel on the Congo River, the second longest in Africa.

With just 300 miles of paved road in this vast country,

the river is one of the few ways of getting around.

The mighty Congo River.

I thought the locals bathing by the river were pleased to see us,

until their chant was translated...

If the Congolese want to trade or travel,

they have to go from town to town on huge barges that moor by the riverbank

until they have a full load.

Have you travelled on a barge up and down the river?

Of course, many times. And how long have you had to wait when you're on the barge until it leaves?

Um...

Minimum is a month.

A month?! Maximum is three months.

The conditions are terrible, you can have 400, 500 people, two toilets.

The Congo has a tragic history.

Up to 10 million people died under Belgian colonial rule.

After independence from Belgium the dictator Mobutu then plundered Congo's resources.

Villages like Nganda Kinshasa have suffered further in recent violent conflicts.

But the fighting has now stopped in this part of the country.

The village teacher Jose hasn't been paid for months.

The Congo is fertile enough to feed all of Africa and provide

power for much of the continent, but you wouldn't know it here.

How many children will be in this room, in the church, when it is operating as a school?

About 60. 60 children.

Yes. There's nothing to write on, no paper?

They write on paper, put it on their legs, the paper.

They write on their legs? Yes.

What do you need?

You need a blackboard, you need books, you need chalk.

We need everything - blackboards and documents like books.

Yeah, like books, because you see, the school is broken easily and now we study in the church,

but we mix all pupils in the same house...in the same church.

We put third form aside and second form in another side and so on.

Average male life expectancy in the Democratic Republic of Congo is just 42 years.

Jose invited Emery and me to meet his family.

He is raising three children of his own, as well as three children

of family members who have died from malaria and other diseases.

So this is actually your nephew?

Yes, my nephew, yes.

Do you feel that you've got a lot of responsibility?

I can't refuse, because they are all of them, our family.

Jose's one-year-old son Johnson

has malaria.

The reality of life in post-war Congo is that

six out of ten children won't live to see their fifth birthday.

The west of the country is now relatively peaceful.

But I was heading to the east, where it isn't...

So we're now heading east along the equator.

We're going in the right direction and we're going quickly

so our journey will speed up a little bit.

This is our direction of travel, the pink line here,

and the equator line is just slightly to the side.

Hitching a ride into a conflict zone isn't that easy.

One of the few people flying there is Dan, a missionary from Colorado.

It's a cliche really. Do you think you're doing God's work here?

Do you feel that this is your calling?

Oh, yeah, definitely. If I didn't, there'd be no reason to be here.

I'm not getting paid enough to do this.

We're heading east now, I mean we're

going in that direction.

Well, on the east they just have these continual conflicts.

You know, they have Ugandans coming over,

you have the Hutus and the Tutsis fighting it out.

You have the cattle people and the farmers fighting for their land,

and...it's just a lot of anarchy over there.

Dan was taking us to the safety of the United Nations main base, just north of the equator.

The UN has thousands of soldiers here, right at the heart of the conflict.

We've now just landed safely in the east of DRC in Bunia.

So for all of us, it's slightly nerve-racking being here

because of the threat of military activity,

I suppose, what I really mean is the threat of or risk of any of us getting shot!

The largest UN peacekeeping force in the world is here trying to disarm powerful local militias

and prevent the country sliding back into a massive civil war.

UN forces are also training the Congolese army, but it still has a terrible reputation.

So those were Congolese army soldiers.

We are in the middle of the town, so there are so many people - no reason to be afraid,

but if we met them in the bush, I wouldn't be as happy as I am now.

Why?

Because it's common knowledge that the Congolese army,

some of them at least,

do, er...rob the population.

Behind the conflict in the DRC are some of Africa's richest deposits of diamonds and gold.

I wanted to get to a mine, to see what so much of the killing has been about,

but with outbreaks of local fighting,

the only one safe enough to visit was just north of the equator,

and even then we needed an armed UN escort.

I'm trying to get to one of the big goldmines in this area,

but all the roads are blocked so we're going to travel by helicopter,

and the Pakistani army has kindly arranged for us to travel on this one.

At the moment, we're not actually going anywhere - they're just pressing buttons and

playing with some of the electrical connections.

We make delay - our radio is failure - ten minutes I will try to repair.

Good luck.

A small problem, hopefully, Inshallah.

And then we'll be on our way.

Thankfully, the chopper was repaired

and we were soon safely on our way to a goldmine in an area

that changed hands five times during intensive fighting between warring factions.

The UN now takes no chances here.

Soldiers guarding the landing strip, waiting for us to come down.

During the fighting that took place in this area, at least 2,000 civilians were killed.

The fighting was about control of this mine.

Today, it's safe enough for locals to work here again.

For 12 hours a day, seven days a week, men dig through

the mud with their bare hands, hoping to strike it lucky.

This is really what the conflict in the Congo has been all about,

the natural wealth of the country.

The mine is now under the control of one of the militias,

which charges locals a fee just to dig here.

And if they find any gold, the militia takes a cut.

So we need to keep our eyes open on here.

TRANSLATION: Gold is mixed with mud.

We use a bucket with holes in the bottom to get rid of the mud, and keep the stones.

We purify it over this waterbed, which is padded with carpet, on which the gold stays.

We then empty the carpet in clean water to get the gold.

Do you think the gold has been

a benefit to this area, or has it been a bit of a curse?

It's really a blessing, as there's no other work for us except digging this gold.

If it weren't here, our suffering would be unbearable.

For us, it's a blessing.

But gold, which fuelled the war, has definitely been a mixed blessing for the Congo.

The mine provides work for locals but they earn a pittance, and it's not just men who dig here.

You've got kids working here!

Children just behind us here.

Do you work in the mine?

Oui. Yes.

How long have you been working here?

Deux ans. Two years.

That's quite a long time. How old are you?

13.

And you how old are you?

Douze. 12.

And you?

Dix ans. 10.

During the last war, the Congolese people had to put up with seven different foreign armies invading

their land, killing them and plundering their natural resources.

Now there are 17,000 UN soldiers here not just as peacekeepers, but peace-enforcers,

authorised to fight warring factions and militias that refuse to disarm.

Dozens of UN soldiers have been killed in the Congo, and they take no chances when out on patrol.

We're now travelling in the back of a Pakistani armoured personnel

carrier and they're really just trying to show the local population

that they're here and they have a lot of force with them, so they've got no reason to be subtle.

Apart from deaths caused by warring foreign armies, much of the

slaughter in the DRC has been the result of local tribal conflicts.

It was shocking to discover how often ethnic groups here have been massacring each other

in battles between those who want land for crops, and those who want it for cattle.

50,000 died in this district.

And in this village, called Nizi, locals from the Hema tribe

said they had been attacked by the nearby Lendu tribe.

This gentleman here is the village chief

and he's just taking us...it sounds as though he's taking us to see a mass grave, actually.

We buried 114 people here.

It's mostly women and children in there.

They came very early in the morning with machetes.

They came from where the Lendu tribes are

and just massacred people in the village.

What do you think they were trying to achieve?

Nizi was well known. We were a prosperous village.

People were doing well, that was why they came here.

Survivors here bear the scars.

This man's whole family was slaughtered. He was left for dead.

You can see the machete mark on

his hands, look at all the scarring... My God!

TRANSLATION: During the attack, they tried to kill me by hacking at me with a machete.

How many members of your family did you lose?

My wife and family were all killed.

And I suffer - I am alone.

All I live in is a hut.

They took all the people who could have helped me.

This is the life that I have been left with.

But there is hope.

The UN have upped their presence here to try and keep the peace

in the run-up to the country's first democratic elections in over 40 years.

A whole generation of Congolese were about to get their first taste of democracy.

So, this is the rather glamorous hotel bar -

shall we get a drink?

Yes, let's go.

Tell us what this is, Emery.

This is my voter registration card, it allows me to vote during the elections.

Are you excited about this? I'll very soon turn 30,

and I've never been to any ballot box. You've never voted?

Never voted, and I think that these people that we're going to vote are

going to be accountable and they're going to do the will of the people.

So I'd better keep it.

Keep it safe! Keep it safe.

Until the D-day arrives.

Cheers. So, here's to Simon.

Thank you as well for travelling across the Congo and good luck for the rest.

Thank you, mate. Thank you.

I left Emery and the war-torn DRC, and continued along the equator

towards the relative safety of Southern Uganda.

We've just arrived in Uganda

and over here is Bart.

Bart, come and say hello!

Hi, how you doing? Welcome!

Thank you very much. It's nice to see you, good.

Actually, at first glance Uganda looks a lot nicer than

the Congo where we've just come from -

the shops are open, people are out and about...

HORNS BEEPING

..the traffic is pretty crazy.

Look at this... Look, arrgh. !

This is the first time in many years I've enjoyed been in a traffic jam

because in the Congo the only vehicles were really United Nations vehicles

or cars belonging to aid agencies - here in Uganda it's just people moving around, it's normal life.

We left the capital, Kampala, which is just north of the equator,

and made our way back to the magical line.

Three,

two...one

and...zero!

Just about round here! Shake my hand!

We've just made it to the centre of the world!

Before we get run over, let's get over here!

In Uganda, the equator seemed to operate as a business opportunity.

I think we should have the experiment, really.

An enterprising man had set up a demonstration of one of the great

myths about the equator - that it can affect how water goes down a plug hole.

On the north side of the equator, the water went clockwise,

and on the other side, it appeared to flow anticlockwise.

And sure enough on the equator line itself, it went straight down the hole!

Although it does look impressive, I'm not entirely convinced.

Whatever my doubts, I was still awarded a certificate of authenticity.

Thank you.

I've officially crossed the equator! I haven't just crossed it and

I've been awarded this geographic certificate by the equator Club!

We left the monument and headed further along the equator line,

towards the main source of the Nile River.

In Uganda, the equator runs through Lake Victoria, the largest tropical lake in the world.

And the water from here is the starting point for the 4,184 mile long river.

It will take about three months, apparently, for the stick to travel all the way down the Nile

and reach Egypt and then come out into the Mediterranean.

Bart had arranged for us to go out on part of the Nile known as Rafter's Paradise.

Initially, it didn't look too threatening.

Well, here it looks OK.

But we know it's not going to be all like this, don't we?

Here you go, I am making it tight.

If you can't breathe, it means you're not gonna drown, OK?

What are you doing? I am trying to learn.

He's learning how to paddle. Practising. Yeah, he's practising.

You need to worry more about this - "I'm over here, I'm drowning."

Team equator!

THEY CHEER

As we began celebrating, none of us noticed Bart drifting down the river...

However, Rafter's Paradise is under threat.

The Ugandan government plans to build a massive hydro-electric dam here.

They already have two dams on the Nile,

and Egypt downstream has threatened dire consequences if Uganda further

interferes with the flow of the river.

But Uganda wants to use the Nile to create more power,

and they are the ones who control the source, as we discovered

when Bart and I were shown round one of the dams.

Do you have the power to cut off the water here?

We can do it, but not the power, because

it's an agreement, whatever, but you can cut off the water if you want.

So if you wanted to, you could turn off the taps on the Nile.

Yeah, you can, but why would you do it?

Back in the car, Bart was still upset about his unscheduled swim earlier in the day.

What did you say then, Bart?

I'm still being troubled...

bothered by the water which entered my nostrils

when I fell into the rapids.

Do you think you might have suffered some long-term damage? Yeah!

Do you need urgent medical attention? Nah. Are you sure?

Africans don't need much medical...urgent medical attention like you do.

How can you suffer from a bout of malaria?!

I've had malaria about 50 times and I'm fine.

This is from a man who's been complaining for the past

eight hours about the fact that he got some water in his nostrils!

Water and malaria are different things. Well, which is more severe?

You can fight malaria, you can't fight water!

We headed east again, with a short stop to look for some wildlife.

Just heard this crashing in the trees and now we're...

We're realising there's monkeys all around us, but, of course,

since we've tried to film them the little buggers disappear.

Banana!

The producer has just thrust a banana into my hand - somehow I'm

supposed to attract these monkeys out of the trees with one banana.

Come on, monkeys!

In the end, the banana actually worked!

What's great about travelling around the equator - you're never far from wildlife.

Soon I was surrounded by dozens of vervet monkeys.

They don't like being far from a tree because of predators...

..but visitors with bananas are just too tempting.

So this is like the equivalent of feeding the ducks in England.

Come and bring some bananas and feed the monkeys!

What have you got? New Vision?

I'll have the Red Pepper, please.

This paper just shows immediately two of the big problems

in Africa at the moment - but particularly in East Africa.

Corruption - "A corrupt official cried before me."

And Museveni, that's the President here, to rule for life!

This is President Museveni who was seen as the great hero of the independence movement

and once said that the big problem with African leaders

is that they don't want to give up power and now he's become what he always said he wouldn't.

Museveni's held power for 20 years.

He's failed to stop a devastating conflict in

the north of the country, but he 's had some success tackling HIV/AIDS.

I was shocked to see just how many coffins are on sale in every town,

but things are getting better - a massive public awareness campaign has had a dramatic effect.

Everybody in this country knows about AIDS and the dangers -

you walk into any of these shops and ask for a condom, you'll be shocked - you'll find everyone has a condom.

And is that... Is that a major change?

In 1988 the...

the level of the growth at the rate at which AIDS was developing was 35%.

35%?! 35%, and today Uganda has been able to reduce the level,

the rate of growth of AIDS from 35% to currently 6%.

That's quite a unique achievement really.

I lost my sister to AIDS, and she died and...

and today I would find it difficult for my younger sister to die

out of ignorance because they know, they know the dangers.

My next stop on the equator line was Kenya, one of Africa's major tourist destinations.

This was meant to be a fairly relaxing stop before I finished my journey in war-torn Somalia,

but on a trip like this, of course, nothing goes to plan.

Travel the world, they said,

meet interesting people...

push your trolley for miles across the hot tarmac.

It's all right, Brian, don't help, it's OK.

I'll do it on my own, no problem!

My Kenyan guide, Michael, wanted to take me to a village famous for its traditional circumcisers.

For boys aged around 12, it's part of becoming a man.

But as we approached the village, there was chaos on the streets.

We just saw a lot of activity by the side of the road,

so we've just stopped, Michael do you know what's going on?

Yeah, it's bullfighting.

They're on their way for a bullfighting session.

And is this why everybody's gathering over here? Yes.

Let's go and have a look. Yeah, OK.

Basically, what they do now is... they are prepping the bulls,

preparing them, you know, psyching them up.

There's a pretty fearsome-looking bull in there.

Local tradition means each bullfight is attended by people dressed in animal skins or as animal spirits.

Follow me!

Follow me! I'm following a man dressed up as

a woman wearing a gorilla outfit towards two fighting bulls.

Come! Come!

How do you decide who wins?

Yeah? How do you know who wins... Who wins?

When... When one of them goes faster. So when one bull races off. Yeah.

Oh, right.

Oh! And there they go, whoa!

I think the black and white bull has won

and now everybody's celebrating around it.

Presumably, this is the owner of the winner - he looks very happy!

He's got the strongest bull.

Congratulations! Well done! Very... Very, very good, I am happy!

Do you win a lot of money, oh, be careful!

The winner gets quite a lot.

And even the loser gets something small.

In the old days, a winner would be given a sheep, and the loser, a cockerel.

Amid all the chaos, I was on the lookout for

the circumcisers I was supposed to be meeting.

See that guy over there moving through the crowd?

He's a circumciser.

Would you trust him with your todger?

I wouldn't!

As the bulls became more aggressive, I realised that bullfighting in

Kenya is dangerous for the crowd as well as for the animals.

What's happened here?

He's broken his leg.

I don't know how we're going to get him in!

Oh, dear.

Michael volunteered our car as a makeshift ambulance.

OK, so we're now...

I think we are now going to the hospital.

We've got a bloke who's fractured his leg. Are you his cousin?

Yeah. Cousin, OK, and we've got two circumcisers here as well.

I'm a bit scared to be in the back with you.

Don't go practising on me, please!

We were the only ones who had a vehicle,

which is why we've brought Magnus to the hospital.

He's the son of, actually, the son of the Chairman of

the Bullfighting Association, so it's a little bit ironic, really.

Despite appearances, Magnus was fine a few days later.

With the hospital taking good care of him, I had a chat with Thomas the circumciser.

That looks really painful!

TRANSLATION That's how he becomes a man. He can also sit with the other men.

We can circumcise around 100 boys in an hour.

You can circumcise 100 boys in an hour!

Do they mind you working so quickly?

I mean, don't they want you to take your time?

I mean, that's sort of...

that sort of speed?

It's a must. You can become crazy.

What? What do you mean you can become...you can become crazy?

There is normally frantic singing that gets into your head.

You go into a frenzy and just continue to cut, cut, cut!

By this point, I'd heard enough.

The next day, and another early start

for Michael and me, as we headed to Lake Nakuru.

This national park is famous for being "the most fabulous bird

"spectacle in the world," and it didn't disappoint.

Steve, our guard, the ranger, has allowed us to get out.

Can you see the hyenas over here?

It's just an amazing sight,

it leaves me slightly...

slightly lost for words almost,

it's so beautiful.

Like a plantation of flowers, you see. That's a nice one - I like that.

How many do you think there are here now? I can say there are about...

about one million. About one million. About one million.

But the flamingos here at Lake Nakuru are threatened by bird flu,

which has already struck in a number of African countries, including neighbouring Sudan.

So far we have not detected any bird flu in this park, and we are very much monitoring them.

How are you monitoring them, in what way?

By daily patrol, coming around and if we found any...

Any dead, we take it...

We don't take it, we call the veterinary department, but so far we haven't had cases at all.

I imagine, if you did get bird flu in the population here, it could be devastating.

Yeah, really devastating.

But not all the animals here are quite as charming as the flamingos.

Well, this one doesn't seem to be going away,

I hate to mention this, but he looks a little bit excited as well.

Oh, dear.

Yes, he is quite excited.

Put it away!

I mean, we don't want to have to watch that, it's half past nine in the morning!

My God, come up! Come up, there's a rhino!

They've been trying to secure all of them from poachers

so they've built an electric fence all the way around the park.

It's the only park in Africa which is enclosed in that way -

it means that animals like this huge beastie are well protected.

The solar-powered electric fence runs for 74km and encloses the whole park,

protecting hundreds of species from gangs of poachers who still operate in Kenya.

This is just a spectacular view.

It's just... Just awe-inspiring, really.

There's a giraffe just out for a stroll.

People in the park are saying that their great problem now is

as the population of Kenya increases, who uses the land?

Is the land here in Kenya for the wildlife in the park that we

see here, or is it for the people in the city just over to our left?

Nakuru is only 4km from the park and is home to nearly 300,000 people.

We've just had to leap out of the car because we've got to get

a new one of these, a sort of adaptor for the cameras.

Now this is Nakuru, this is the town, you can see how many

people are living here - it's quite chaotic. Where are you going?

Well, what is interesting about this place is how busy

the town is now, and how close it is to the park, to the wildlife park.

Don't touch me now!

He's threatening us now.

He's a bit...He's a bit intoxicated.

Off we go. Poachers and pollution are a constant threat to Kenya's parks.

But outside the parks there are still wildlife surprises.

Can you just slow down for a second?

All the zeros - we've just crossed the equator line again,

but this time I don't think we are going to stop.

Stop! Stop! Stop!

In Britain, if you take a drive out into the country

and go down a dusty road you're lucky if you see a fox -

here in Kenya you get to see elephants!

The further east you go in Kenya,

the more people you see chewing miraa -

a natural stimulant derived from a shrub that flourishes here.

Miraa is so popular it has become one of Kenya's chief exports,

even ahead of coffee.

I came to meet a local farmer who grows miraa right on the equator.

Simon. Yea, I'm Simon - my name also.

I'm Simon as well then, that will make things less complicated.

We'll just leap up into the tree.

Yes, and then you start harvesting now from all the branches now.

Do you harvest it by hand? It's just harvested by hand.

So you are just plucking them off. Yes.

So here we go this is miraa, they call it here in Kenya -

in Somalia this is known as khat.

You just chew this?

You started chewing, yeah. It's very sweet, it's not nasty.

How much will I have to chew for it to have an effect on me?

Oh, just a bundle, a small bundle. As much as that?

Yeah! Lots of it, you must eat a bigger bundle.

I'm not sure we've got enough time to chew all that!

Miraa has been grown for centuries in this part of Kenya, and has become part of local traditions.

If you want to marry my daughter, I'll let you bring this one.

I will not give you my daughter before you bring

as the first dowry to open the speech. So I...

If I want to marry your daughter, I need to bring a lot of miraa.

Not so much, just a small bundle like that one.

Come on your daughter must be worth more than that!

No, just to open the negotiation. Open the negotiations, right, OK.

Then other things follow later.

What else will you expect? That's a ram, five cows.

Five cows! Yes!

Simon, you are striking a hard bargain, I haven't even met your daughter!

But there is a serious downside to the drug.

Regular use of miraa can lead to insomnia and anxiety.

Often, it can make people feel more irritable, and even violent.

You can see everybody's got... They've got miraa to sell, basically. Yeah.

There's a slight edge here, because you can sense that people

feel a little bit uncertain about whether they should be filmed holding, what in many countries,

is a drug.

Miraa passes through this market on the way to Somalia,

where local warlords control the lucrative trade.

So we're now being told we should get out quite quickly.

We've been told we should leave the market. So I'm going to go that way and you're going to follow.

Kenyans chew miraa occasionally, but I was due to head for chaotic

Somalia the next day, where most men chew it incessantly.

The drug has helped to destroy the country.

We've just had some bad news this morning - the equator line runs through southern Somalia

and our plan was to travel across Somalia and then get to the coast,

where we would finish our journey across Africa,

but there's been an outbreak of quite serious heavy fighting in Somalia, just in the last few days.

So I decided to fly as close as I could to the border between Somalia and Kenya.

Somalia has no proper government, and years of fighting between

rival warlords has forced Somalis to flee into the Kenyan desert.

Smack bang on the equator lie the Dadaab refugee camps.

We're now going to try and find some of the new arrivals in the camp.

Because of the situation in Somalia now, there's been fighting there very recently,

people have been coming into the camp just even in the last few days.

I passed a weary group who had just made the long trek to the camp

and were still waiting to be processed by UN workers.

Where did you come from, and why did you come to the camp?

I came from Mogadishu because the fighting was so bad.

Are your children here with you? I was forced to leave two of them in Mogadishu.

Do you know what's happened to them? Have you been able to make any contact with them?

No, I lost them in the attack.

The group walked for 20 days through the desert to reach the camp.

After their food ran out, they survived on rainwater.

People have forgotten about the chaos, the crisis in Somalia.

You look into their faces, and you just realise that they're hoping and waiting

for the rest of the world to come and give them some assistance.

This camp was opened 25 years ago.

For the people who arrived in the early years this is the only life they know.

Fatima, who is now 23, has been here since she was six.

When you think of the future, do you feel positive or negative about the future?

I am always positive about my future, always positive.

Do you think you will go home to Somalia?

Would you like to go home to Somalia?

No, I will not. For that one... I will never go back to Somalia.

Why not? Will never.

Why not? Because I know the problems I faced,

I know more people have been killed there. Even if there is peace,

better I stay in Kenya and integrate with these people.

But the refugees cannot integrate with the Kenyan population, because

the Kenyan government won't let them go more than 20km outside the camp.

I can travel anywhere in the world.

I have this magical thing called a British passport and it means I can just travel around.

Are you're confined here in this, it's almost like a prison,

it sounds like, does it feel like a prison?

We say the "open prison", that's what we normally tell people.

What would happen to you if you just kept on walking,

if you wanted or tried to go to Nairobi or a local town?

You can't go to Nairobi or even the nearest, 90 kilometre town,

which is called Carisa - because to go there you have to use

a vehicle and in between Carisa and here there is police patrolling.

They will stop the vehicle they will ask everybody, "ID card".

We don't have that ID card - we are refugees.

Fatima was knowledgeable and well-educated thanks to the staff who run the refugee camp.

And there were many more like her.

It was depressing to see them all stuck-out in the middle of the desert.

Thanks to an accident of birth, I was lucky enough to be able to

leave, and continue my journey around the world.

So here we are - 00.00.000.

Right on the equator now - the line runs "thattaway".

This is the end of my journey across Africa now...

and my next stop is Indonesia.

And I'll walk all the bloody way!