Byebye Sunshine.
I arrived at Tripoli yesterday to find an airport totally deserted with running flights, planes oddly frozen in mid-taxiing, in mid-takeoff even, and the ground staff present only to process our sole ICRC flight in.
I learned from Rima yesterday with great shock that another colleague and friend, Angela Hoyt had been found strangled at her Hatfield home over the past few days, and that her partner Martin Collett was largely blamed for her murder. Today, I read that the manhunt for Martin had ended when police found his corpse on a railway track not far from their home.
I met Angie when she undertook a professional visit trip to the West Bank in early 2008 from ICRC London's office. We became fast, good friends and the last time we met up was in Rome in June 2009, together with our partners Andreea and Martin and they did seem - in Andreea's words - the perfect couple, promising futures and all. Martin had just undertaken a major career change and would soon be getting his pilot's licence after years working in the UK's Home Office. And Angie was beaming from pride. She was a real darling of a person, the sort who blared golden sun in a trade (ours) often beset with jadedness and resignation, and traded the same in kind. 'Sunshine' was what she called those close to her. A promising woman with an even promising future.
I'll never see her again.
Angie, death comes upon us all from a sneaky corner. In your case, it's left the humanitarian world a darker place. But in the end we're all memories and yours will glow on. Miss you.
On Other Things: Will write about Libya once time avails itself. NATO bombing runs will resume tonight or tomorrow now that Zuma's returned to South Africa. Tomorrow we head out some 800km south into the Fezzan, the Libyan Sahara for the many days to come. Into the Sahara.
I learned from Rima yesterday with great shock that another colleague and friend, Angela Hoyt had been found strangled at her Hatfield home over the past few days, and that her partner Martin Collett was largely blamed for her murder. Today, I read that the manhunt for Martin had ended when police found his corpse on a railway track not far from their home.
I met Angie when she undertook a professional visit trip to the West Bank in early 2008 from ICRC London's office. We became fast, good friends and the last time we met up was in Rome in June 2009, together with our partners Andreea and Martin and they did seem - in Andreea's words - the perfect couple, promising futures and all. Martin had just undertaken a major career change and would soon be getting his pilot's licence after years working in the UK's Home Office. And Angie was beaming from pride. She was a real darling of a person, the sort who blared golden sun in a trade (ours) often beset with jadedness and resignation, and traded the same in kind. 'Sunshine' was what she called those close to her. A promising woman with an even promising future.
I'll never see her again.
Angie, death comes upon us all from a sneaky corner. In your case, it's left the humanitarian world a darker place. But in the end we're all memories and yours will glow on. Miss you.
On Other Things: Will write about Libya once time avails itself. NATO bombing runs will resume tonight or tomorrow now that Zuma's returned to South Africa. Tomorrow we head out some 800km south into the Fezzan, the Libyan Sahara for the many days to come. Into the Sahara.