Listen to Our Shows on Mixcloud

We broad­cast music, news and dis­cus­sion from 10am to 10pm and repeat overnight, 7 days a week. We also Mix­cloud our shows so that you can listen whenever and wherever suits you.

We cover a wide range of top­ics by all ages for all ages:

  • Eco issues, human rights and in-depth news (both local and global)
  • Sci­ence, his­tory, arts and poetry
  • Stor­ies, week­end live per­form­ances by Brighton musicians.

For more inform­a­tion, please see the About Us page.

There’s plenty going on in Brighton and Hove…

Enjoy lovely views of the Park from the West Front of Petworth House © National Trust


Thank you to Sus­sex Life  and Green­CycleSus­sex for this information.

MADE Brighton — Fri­day 21 to Sunday 23 November


Corn Exchange, Brighton


MADE Brighton show­cases more than 100 makers and design­ers; from unique glass­ware to lux­uri­ous tex­tiles, func­tional ceram­ics to dazzling jew­ellery, beau­ti­ful fur­niture to quirky accessor­ies, there is some­thing for every­one. Work is priced between £10 and £1,500, provid­ing the per­fect oppor­tun­ity to Christ­mas shop for unique gifts.




Sil­ver Strings — Tues­day 25 Novem­ber 8.30AM-10.30AM

Brighthelm Centre, North Road, Brighton, BN1 1YD

ilver Strings is a music ses­sion for older people who’ve always wanted to play a stringed instru­ment. At Sil­ver Strings, we warm up gently and play in pairs as part of a lar­ger group to make music together. Every­one over 50 is wel­come, regard­less of pre­vi­ous exper­i­ence — no music read­ing is neces­sary, and every­one can choose the mater­ial we play. Learn­ing an instru­ment in a group keeps our minds act­ive and our fin­gers supple — and it’s a lot of fun! Par­ti­cipants say: I get such a sense of achieve­ment (SW), My hands are now more agile (DP), Every week is a high­light! (RW). We even provide the instru­ments: choose violin, viola or cello — or try all three! The ses­sions are run by Open Strings Music and facil­it­ated by Goldsmiths-trained music leader and pro­fes­sional cel­list Isa­bel Emerson.

Price: First ses­sion free after­wards £11/wk (instru­ments included)

Con­tact Isa­bel

For more inform­a­tion see




Noth­ing — Fri­day 21 November


Green Door Store, Tra­fal­gar Street, Brighton, BN1 4FQ


Plus Milk Teeth and Fvnerals–11-21–19-00




Age UK Hor­sham District’s Christ­mas Fayre — Sat­urday 22 Novem­ber between 10am and 2pm


Lavinia House situ­ated behind the Drill Hall, Denne Road, RH12 1GZ


Age UK Hor­sham Dis­trict will be host­ing their pop­u­lar annual Christ­mas Fayre to raise funds for their ‘Spread the Warmth’ cam­paign to help local older people avoid loneli­ness and isol­a­tion dur­ing the winter months.




Con­tem­por­ary Brit­ish Paint­ing and Sculp­ture — 2014 christ­mas show — open­ing Sat­urday 22 November


Bring­ing together over 20 gal­lery artists and prom­ises to be even lar­ger, more col­our­ful and more diverse than last year. Along­side col­lect­able and award win­ning artists, excit­ing up and com­ing paint­ers and makers will also be on show. The Christ­mas Show will mix paint­ing, sculp­ture and a small range of bespoke jew­ellery from Sus­sex based makers.




Christ­mas Fair — Sat­urday 22 and Sunday 23 November


Pet­worth House and Park


10.30am-3.30pm. Pet­worth House’s Christ­mas Fair is a sea­sonal fam­ily tra­di­tion for thou­sands of vis­it­ors. Now in its ninth year, it hosts more than 120 artis­ans’ stalls and a huge vari­ety of gifts. From unique jew­ellery and lux­ury home accessor­ies to deli­cious jams and hand­made chocol­ates, the fair provides the per­fect oppor­tun­ity to pur­chase all your Christ­mas presents under one roof, includ­ing many gifts that you won’t see on the high street. Entry: £5 (includ­ing National Trust mem­bers), chil­dren free.




Falmer Christ­mas Mar­ket — Sat­urday 22 and Sunday 23 November


Falmer Vil­lage Hall, South Street, Falmer, Brighton, BN1 9PB


Two days of shop­ping for beau­ti­ful, afford­able arts and crafts. Jew­ellery, Paint­ings, Prints, Glass­ware, Tex­tiles, hand-made gar­ments from vin­tage fab­rics, Cards, Tapestry, Woodturn­ing, Ceram­ics plus a café with mulled wine, snacks, tea and home-made cakes and other goodies.




Sing Healthy Play Happy — Fri­day 28 Novem­ber 9am-10am

Sing Healthy Play Happy is a new FREE weekly music group for people with demen­tia and their carers, run­ning on Fri­days, 10–11:30am from Octo­ber ’14 at the Phoenix Centre, cent­ral Brighton. In these fun, gentle and sup­port­ive ses­sions we will: • sing famil­iar and new songs together • explore instru­ments and sounds • try out mater­ial to use at home • move gently to music • make new friends Mak­ing music together is good for us! It lifts our spir­its and helps us relax — it can really take us out of ourselves and give us a break, even for a short while. Spaces are lim­ited so please book now for the first ten weeks — October-December ’14. Sing Healthy Play Happy is an Open Strings Music CIC pro­ject, sup­por­ted by Sus­sex Com­munity Found­a­tion and the Argus Appeal. The pro­ject is facil­it­ated by Gold­smiths Uni­ver­sity of Lon­don –trained com­munity musi­cians Amy Hill & Isa­bel Emer­son. Where: Phoenix Com­munity Centre, 2 Phoenix Place, Brighton, BN2 9ND (just behind Phoenix Gal­lery, oppos­ite St Peter’s Church). By bus: no.25 stops out­side St. Peter’s Church and it’s a short walk to the fully-accessible venue.

Con­tact details:

For more details see




Smile for David — Sat­urday 29 6.45pm-7.30pm


Hos­ted by Candi Rell 7 Adam Brooks!about/c4nz









Ebola: we can stop it‏

I’m Dr Louisa Bax­ter and I’ve just come back from Sierra Leone where the Ebola epi­demic is fast spiralling out of con­trol.The virus is killing up to 70% of those who catch it and the num­bers of people infec­ted is doub­ling every 20 days.Chil­dren and fam­il­ies there, and across West Africa, des­per­ately need the inter­na­tional com­munity to do more to defeat Ebola. And they need them to do it fast.

Will you join me in call­ing on world lead­ers to act?

Next month, lead­ers of the 20 most power­ful and richest coun­tries meet at the G20 Sum­mit in Australia.

It’s crit­ical they agree to make enough money, equip­ment and people avail­able to stop this killer virus.

Your voice will be join­ing with thou­sands of oth­ers across the globe as people from Sydney to San Fran­cisco, unite to demand action.

This is the largest Ebola out­break we’ve ever seen and there is only a mat­ter of weeks to con­tain it.

Please sign our peti­tion to the G20 lead­ers today.

We must stop Ebola. With your help we can.

My jour­ney back to Ebola ground zero

By Peter Piot Nearly 40 years after he was first dis­patched to invest­ig­ate a mys­ter­i­ous new virus, Peter Piot returns to a vil­lage – and a people – changed for ever by the advent of Ebola

Microbiologist and physician Peter Piot in Matonge, Kinshasa in February, at a clinic for sex workers that he co-founded©Michael Chris­topher Brown­Mi­cro­bi­o­lo­gist and phys­i­cian Peter Piot in Matonge, Kin­shasa in Feb­ru­ary, at a clinic for sex work­ers that he co-founded

Get on that plane now! You know, they are crazy here!” shouts the man­ager of Kin Avia, a rare charter air­line in the Demo­cratic Repub­lic of Congo with a decent safety track record. It is nearly 10am and for the past few hours we have been try­ing to get through all the form­al­it­ies required to travel from the dilap­id­ated domestic air­port of Ndolo in the heart of Kin­shasa to Bumba – in other words, to get through immig­ra­tion for a domestic flight. Bumba is the nearest air­port in north­west­ern Congo to our final des­tin­a­tion, Yam­buku, a vil­lage in Equateur province about 1,000km from the cap­ital. I am spend­ing two weeks in the coun­try to cel­eb­rate my 65th birth­day and to thank the people who played such an import­ant role in two defin­ing exper­i­ences of my life: invest­ig­at­ing the first known out­break of Ebola haem­or­rhagic fever in 1976 and uncov­er­ing a sig­ni­fic­ant het­ero­sexual epi­demic of HIV/Aids in 1983. I am here with an Amer­ican film crew mak­ing a doc­u­ment­ary on epi­dem­ics, along with my wife Heidi, an anthro­po­lo­gist, and my friends Jean-Jacques Muyembe, dir­ector of the DRC’s National Insti­tute for Bio­med­ical Research, Eugene Nzila, a pion­eer of Pro­jet Sida (Africa’s first big Aids research pro­ject, foun­ded in 1984) and Annie Rimoin, an epi­demi­olo­gist from UCLA.

When I was 27 and still in train­ing, I had one of the greatest oppor­tun­it­ies an aspir­ing micro­bi­o­lo­gist could dream of: the chance to dis­cover a new virus, invest­ig­ate its mode of trans­mis­sion and stop the out­break. It all star­ted when my labor­at­ory at the Insti­tute of Trop­ical Medi­cine in Ant­werp received a ther­mos from what was then called Zaïre. It con­tained the blood of a Flem­ish nun who had died of what was thought to be yel­low fever. From that sample, how­ever, our lab isol­ated a new virus, con­firmed by the Cen­ters for Dis­ease Con­trol in Atlanta and sub­sequently called Ebola, after a river about 100km north of Yam­buku, the centre of the epi­demic. It turned out to be one of the most deadly vir­uses known. In early Septem­ber 1976, Mabalo Lokela, the head­mas­ter of the local school, had died with a high fever, intract­able diarrhoea and bleed­ing. His death sent a shock­wave through the small mis­sion com­munity. Soon the hos­pital was full of patients with a sim­ilar ill­ness and nearly all died within a week.

This was the begin­ning of the first known out­break of Ebola, a virus that is believed to cir­cu­late in bats, which acci­dent­ally infects people through con­tact with blood or infec­ted droplets. There are four known sub­types affect­ing humans, includ­ing the “Zaïre” type, the most deadly strain, with more than 90 per cent mor­tal­ity. Trans­mis­sion between people is through con­tam­in­ated injec­tions, con­tact with blood and body flu­ids, sex, and it prob­ably passes from mother to child. Approx­im­ately one week after infec­tion, patients develop severe fever, diarrhoea and vomit­ing. They then start bleed­ing and are affected by “dis­sem­in­ated intravas­cu­lar coagu­la­tion”, whereby small blood clots develop in the body’s blood ves­sels, ulti­mately res­ult­ing in gen­er­al­ised organ fail­ure, shock and death one week after the onset of symp­toms. Close to 90 per cent of the 318 people dia­gnosed with the dis­ease would even­tu­ally die dur­ing the Yam­buku out­break. So would more than half of the hos­pital staff and 39 people from among the 60 fam­il­ies liv­ing at the mis­sion. The entire region was dev­ast­ated, with some vil­lages los­ing one in every 11 inhab­it­ants to Ebola.

Piot (second from left) on October 20 1976, the day of his arrival in Yambuku, together with fellow scientists and local health workersPiot (second from left) on Octo­ber 20 1976, the day of his arrival in Yam­buku, together with fel­low sci­ent­ists and local health workers

Get­ting on a mil­it­ary C130 to Bumba in 1976 for the three-hour flight over the world’s second-largest equat­orial forest was less com­plic­ated than catch­ing a pas­sen­ger flight in 2014, even though back then we had to load a Land Rover, med­ical equip­ment and bar­rels of fuel on to the cargo plane. We were a Zairean, an Amer­ican, a French­man and two Bel­gians in a plane – like one of those jokes. But the pilots were in a foul mood. They resen­ted hav­ing to fly to the epi­demic zone. Hadn’t fel­low pilots told them that birds were fall­ing from the sky over the forest around Yam­buku and that dead bod­ies were lin­ing the roads? When we landed, the plane came abruptly to a halt but the pilots never came out of the cabin. They didn’t even stop the engines. They wanted to take off again as soon as pos­sible and avoid any con­tact with loc­als. When I walked through the open load­ing dock at the back of the plane, I saw hun­dreds of people, star­ing at us in silence, fol­lowed by shouts of “Oyé! Oyé!” when we drove out the Land Rover. Ours was the first air­craft to break the quar­ant­ine that the whole region had been put under because of the epi­demic and expect­a­tions were high that we would stop the dis­ease, and bring food and medi­cines. As soon as the plane was unloaded, the pilots shouted “Bonne chance!” and off they went.…

Bumba, the nearest town to Yambuku©Heidi Lar­son­Bumba, the nearest town to Yambuku

This time there is a slight sense of déjà vu when we finally land on the red-earth air­strip of Bumba. The Con­golese pilot recog­nises me from his time in the Zairian air force in the 1970s. “Has Ebola star­ted again?” he asks anxiously. Only a few people are at the air­strip, apart from the unavoid­able immig­ra­tion and secur­ity officers. One man is wait­ing for us just as he was in 1976: Father Car­los Rom­mel, the Flem­ish Cath­olic par­ish priest of Notre Dame, who has been work­ing in the Congo for 51 years, mostly in Bumba. He had arranged all our logist­ics to per­fec­tion, just as he unflap­pably man­ages a hos­pital, a par­ish and four schools in a coun­try where noth­ing can be taken for gran­ted. Our con­voy of jeeps makes its way to the Bumba mis­sion, where we will stay for the next few days, just as we did nearly four dec­ades ago. Not much has changed – there is not a single paved road in this town of about 150,000 people and very few houses are made of brick or cement. This used to be a major port on the Congo River but years of war, loot­ing and cor­rup­tion have taken their toll. River boats are gradu­ally return­ing – the 1,000km jour­ney to Kin­shasa can take up to six weeks in the dry sea­son – always over­loaded with people, cars and goods. Des­pite being loc­ated on the mighty Congo, there is no run­ning water in Bumba. Girls and women fetch water from the river, except in the neigh­bour­hoods where Father Car­los has drilled wells. He seems to be the only real investor in infra­struc­ture and social ser­vices in the city, some­times using his own money. There is no elec­tri­city, besides what is pro­duced by a lonely and noisy gen­er­ator. The first thing I see when vis­it­ing the pub­lic hos­pital is a large black truck near the entrance with “Morgue” painted across it. Not encour­aging. Cattle graze between the pavil­ions. The hos­pital is largely empty as patients have to pay for everything and there are hardly any medi­cines, includ­ing anti‑HIV drugs and tests. For years, the state has not provided any support.

An aerial photograph of a typical settlement in the Yambuku area, taken on Piot’s first visit to the region©Peter PiotAn aer­ial pho­to­graph of a typ­ical set­tle­ment in the Yam­buku area, taken on Piot’s first visit to the region

Together with Muyembe and Rimoin, two of the world’s lead­ing experts on mon­keypox, I see a nine-year-old girl who has con­trac­ted the dis­ease from her brother. DRC has the world’s largest num­ber of cases of this dis­ease, which resembles the now erad­ic­ated small­pox, and is acquired from con­tact with vari­ous wild anim­als, not just mon­keys. It is another illus­tra­tion of how animal vir­uses can cause infec­tions and even epi­dem­ics in humans (both HIV and influ­enza come from anim­als). In con­trast to the pub­lic hos­pital, the mission-run Notre Dame hos­pital is clean and full of patients but even here there is a short­age of medi­cines. Muyembe and I have lengthy con­ver­sa­tions about the causes of this total neg­lect of people’s health and what we can do about it as aca­dem­ics. He repeatedly reminds us all of the motto of the Uni­ver­sity of Kin­shasa, where he had been dean of medi­cine, and which was also the slo­gan of the Cath­olic high school of Bumba: “No sci­ence without con­science”.… Look­ing across the court­yard from our bed­room at the mis­sion evokes one of the most dra­matic moments of my stay in 1976. Early one after­noon, an Allou­ette heli­copter (a gift from French pres­id­ent Valéry Gis­card d’Estaing to Zaïre’s pres­id­ent, Mobutu Sese Seko) arrived in Yam­buku to take me to meet some high-ranking US offi­cials in Bumba. As it was get­ting very dark, and I resen­ted that these men did not want to come to where the action was, I decided not to fly. It saved my life – the heli­copter crashed in the forest 15 minutes later and all three pas­sen­gers died, includ­ing a worker from the mis­sion who had taken my place in order to visit his fam­ily in Bumba. I always felt that poor man died for me.

Piot in Yambuku with nurse Sukato Mandzomba, who survived the initial Ebola outbreak©Heidi Lar­son­Piot in Yam­buku with nurse Sukato Mand­zomba, who sur­vived the ini­tial Ebola outbreak

Three days later I had to recover the bloated corpses after a hunter found them, two hours’ walk from the nearest vil­lage through almost impen­et­rable forest. As there were no coffins, I had to make them myself at the mis­sion work­shop back in Bumba, which was the only place that had wooden planks. For years I could not talk about it and even now see­ing a pile of planks at that work­shop is extremely emo­tional. Bumba, this morn­ing, offers many dis­trac­tions as well as memor­ies but I am impa­tient to see Yam­buku. Road R337 is a red soil track through the green foliage of the dense equat­orial forest. It is dry sea­son and dur­ing a four-and-a-half-hour drive of more than 100km, we see two trucks full of goods and people, four motor­cycles and many more people on or push­ing bicycles, loaded with rice, pea­nuts, dried fish and bush meat, manioc, palm oil and bana­nas. As we wend our way down the bumpy road from Bumba to Yam­buku, I’m firmly hold­ing on to a handle so as not to be ejec­ted from the front seat and my head is spin­ning with memor­ies of my first visit. The forest is a bit fur­ther away from the vil­lages now, with trees hav­ing been cut down for fuel over the years, and there are far more chil­dren than I remem­ber. There are also some new cement build­ings in sev­eral of the vil­lages we pass – often only one among the mud huts and King­dom Halls of Jehovah’s Wit­nesses. There used to be palm oil plant­a­tions here, owned by Uni­lever, but these have been aban­doned along with the paddy fields because of the wars and a deteri­or­a­tion in infra­struc­ture and trans­port. With them went the last jobs, and many people are now liv­ing in a state of aut­archy – flee­ing into the forest for weeks at a time when vari­ous armed groups have invaded the area.

Piot is reunited with Father Carlos Rommel, who has worked in the Congo for 51 years©Heidi Lar­son­Piot is reunited with Father Car­los Rom­mel, who has worked in the Congo for 51 years

As we get closer to Yam­buku the driver points to an over­grown area which was part of a vil­lage whose inhab­it­ants had fled dur­ing the Ebola epi­demic and never returned. Sud­denly, the forest opens up and the road meanders through neg­lected cof­fee plants and bam­boo before we finally see Yam­buku. We are wel­comed by sec­tor chief Chris­tophe Nzan­golo, two doc­tors and four Con­golese nuns, who have been wait­ing for us since noon on the ter­race of the mis­sion. Warm beer is served, form­al­it­ies are exchanged and we are dir­ec­ted to our rooms. They are in dire con­di­tion, as is the rest of the build­ing. The Cath­olic mis­sion in Yam­buku was foun­ded by the Order of Sch­eut in the 1930s with the sup­port of a colo­nial cot­ton com­pany in the then Bel­gian Congo. It was later joined by Sis­ters of the Sac­red Heart of Mary. For many years, the vil­lage was a flour­ish­ing centre for edu­ca­tion, health­care and agri­cul­ture, and in some ways was a picture-postcard loc­a­tion. But the 1976 Ebola epi­demic, com­bined with a sharp eco­nomic down­turn and serial wars, has led to a decline on all fronts. The mis­sion was looted first by Mobutu’s sol­diers and most recently by Bemba rebels, who were fight­ing the cur­rent gov­ern­ment of Joseph Kab­ila and stole the ambu­lance and side­band radio, the vil­la­gers’ only means of com­mu­nic­a­tion with the out­side world. (It took me a while to real­ise that the numer­ous small holes in the pil­lars of the convent’s ter­race were actu­ally bul­let holes.) Since the depar­ture of the Flem­ish nuns about 10 years ago, leav­ing some Con­golese sis­ters, there has been no money avail­able to replace or to main­tain the vast con­vent build­ings. The aus­tere guest house where we stayed was slowly implod­ing, chil­dren at the primary school were sit­ting and writ­ing on the dirt floor, and the hos­pital was without drugs and had only a few mat­tresses. The power­ful elec­tri­city gen­er­ator we had left behind in 1976 was intact but lacked some essen­tial parts, which together cost only a few hun­dred pounds. But the money was not there and, in any case, the sis­ters had no idea how to order the miss­ing parts.

The school room where Piot and his colleagues slept in 1976©Heidi Lar­sonThe school room where Piot and his col­leagues slept in 1976

The jungle had invaded the once flour­ish­ing cof­fee plant­a­tions, which used to employ a sig­ni­fic­ant part of the pop­u­la­tion. People now sur­vive on what the fer­tile land, veget­a­tion and wild­life can offer. In con­trast to Kin­shasa, there is no obesity in Yam­buku and, accord­ing to the local doc­tors and as far as we can see, not much ser­i­ous mal­nu­tri­tion either, in spite of a mono­ton­ous diet based on manioc, fried plantain and bana­nas, with occa­sional fish or bush meat. Des­pite all the dif­fi­culties and lack of reg­u­lar work, how­ever, it is inter­est­ing to note how impec­cably dressed the chil­dren and adults are. When we go for an early morn­ing walk to enjoy some cool air before the steam­ing heat envel­opes the vil­lage, we can see women sweep­ing the court­yards in front of their thatched-roofed mud huts, going to col­lect water and wash­ing their chil­dren. These are among the world’s bot­tom bil­lion, strug­gling to sur­vive with what nature has to offer. They have just enough, but no spare capa­city for an emer­gency.… When we arrived in Yam­buku on Octo­ber 20 1976, we went straight to the guest house, which sat between the nuns’ and fath­ers’ con­vents. Three European sis­ters and a priest were stand­ing out­side, with a cord between them and us. They had read that in case of an epi­demic it was neces­sary to estab­lish a cor­don sanitaire, which they had inter­preted lit­er­ally. A mes­sage hung from a tree, say­ing in the Lin­gala lan­guage that people should stay away as any­body com­ing any closer would die, and to leave mes­sages on a piece of paper. When the sis­ters shouted in French, “Don’t come any nearer! Stay out­side the bar­rier or you will die!” I imme­di­ately under­stood from their accent that they were from near my part of Flanders. I jumped over the bar­rier, say­ing in Dutch, “We are here to help you and to stop the epi­demic. You’ll be all right.” They broke down, hold­ing each other and cling­ing to my arms, cry­ing. We could see the ter­ror in their faces as they were con­vinced they too would soon die, just like four of their col­leagues and a priest who had all suc­cumbed to the Ebola virus in the course of a few weeks. Once we had all settled down, the sis­ters pre­pared a solid din­ner of Flem­ish beef stew and star­ted to tell the story of the epi­demic. They explained in great detail how their col­leagues had died, who the first vic­tims were at the mis­sion and then in other vil­lages, and that noth­ing seemed to work as treat­ment. One sis­ter had kept care­ful notes on each patient. They decided that we should sleep on the floor in the school classroom as we did not know whether the bed­rooms in the con­vent were con­tam­in­ated. But I didn’t sleep much that first night in Yam­buku, with a thou­sand ques­tions going through my head and the sounds of the rain­forest outside.

Bikes left as pledges in Yambuku’s pharmacy©Heidi Lar­son­Bikes left as pledges in Yambuku’s pharmacy

It quickly became clear that some­thing was wrong at the hos­pital. Epi­demi­olo­gical detect­ive work by our team con­firmed the sus­pi­cions: people were being infec­ted at the hos­pital through injec­tions made using con­tam­in­ated needles and syr­inges (only five syr­inges and needles were issued to the nurses each morn­ing), and hos­pital staff and attendees at funer­als were fall­ing vic­tim through expos­ure to body flu­ids infec­ted with the virus. In addi­tion there seemed to be trans­mis­sion from moth­ers to babies. Clos­ing the hos­pital (which, in any case, had been aban­doned by frightened patients) was the decis­ive action that stopped the Ebola epi­demic, and the last vic­tim died on Novem­ber 5. In simple terms, poor med­ical prac­tice had killed hun­dreds of people. The mis­sion­ar­ies were undoubtedly doing highly valu­able work in edu­ca­tion and com­munity devel­op­ment but man­aging a hos­pital (without a phys­i­cian, since they could not find one who would work in such a remote place) was bey­ond their expert­ise. On Decem­ber 16 1976, the quar­ant­ine was offi­cially lif­ted after four long months. The mil­it­ary trans­port plane that came to pick us up with our pre­cious samples, lab equip­ment and Land Rover was the first con­tact with the out­side world since we had arrived three months earlier. It was nearly stormed by people who wanted to leave the area.

The village graveyard©Heidi Lar­sonThe vil­lage graveyard

I had a heated argu­ment with the pilots, who were filling the plane with rat­tan fur­niture that belonged to Gen­eral Bumba, their big boss, and allow­ing other people who had bribed them on to the plane. There was hardly any space left for us and our goods. Noth­ing could be taken for gran­ted in Zaïre! I argued and swore and joked, and in the end we all got on the air­craft. I sud­denly real­ised I had become assert­ive. That was not the end of the story. The Buf­falo plane was over­loaded, as well as badly loaded, and the pilots took off straight into a for­mid­able trop­ical storm. We touched the top of some trees and before reach­ing cruis­ing alti­tude the plane dived for what felt like a few hun­dred metres. There were no seat belts and we were hit by heavy fly­ing boxes. Even­tu­ally we made it safely to Kin­shasa but my legs were trem­bling when we got out of the plane. For me, fly­ing had been more dan­ger­ous than caring for patients or hand­ling virus samples.… Dec­ades later, it is a great joy to see Sukato Mand­zomba slowly walk­ing towards me. “How are you?” he asks simply. “How is the fam­ily? My wife and I are so happy you came back.” He is smil­ing shyly and as if we had seen each other just a few days ago. Sukato is one of the few sur­viv­ors from the 1976 Ebola epi­demic. As a 24-year-old nurse, he was infec­ted while caring for dying patients with haem­or­rhagic fever but never developed the severe, fatal form of the infec­tion which causes massive bleed­ing and shock. Sukato was among the first people we saw on our arrival in Yam­buku in 1976, and after he had recovered from his ill­ness he volun­teered to look after patients and helped us with our clin­ical and epi­demi­olo­gical work.

Piot with Sukato Mandzomba in the latter’s makeshift laboratory in Yambuku©Heidi Lar­son­Piot with Sukato Mand­zomba in the latter’s make­shift labor­at­ory in Yambuku

He now runs the rudi­ment­ary hos­pital labor­at­ory, with a micro­scope and a hand cent­ri­fuge as his only equip­ment. Typ­ic­ally for Sukato, the labor­at­ory log­book has impec­cable records, and he shows me the char­ac­ter­istic bacilli in the spu­tum smears of numer­ous tuber­cu­losis patients. The hos­pital looks the same as I remem­ber it but with far fewer patients, even if there is now a com­pet­ent doc­tor. The main reas­ons for people stay­ing away are the lack of afford­able drugs (the gov­ern­ment has not sent any for more than two years) and extreme poverty pre­vents them from pay­ing the vari­ous fees that are charged in the absence of any health insur­ance scheme. Medi­cines are bought at the weekly mar­ket in nearby Yan­dongi and then sold at a profit to sub­sid­ise the hos­pital. In the tiny hos­pital phar­macy we see six bicycles, palm oil and a few bags of rice, left as secur­ity by patients who could not pay for their drugs. The Yam­buku “health zone” cov­ers 14,000 sq km and 260,000 inhab­it­ants but has no ambu­lance, no means of com­mu­nic­a­tion, hardly any medi­cines and just one fridge for vac­cines. The two doc­tors and the nurses are try­ing to find solu­tions without any sup­port from their gov­ern­ment or the inter­na­tional com­munity. Many would have given up but they are beacons of pro­fes­sional com­mit­ment and dig­nity amid abject poverty, the state hav­ing abdic­ated all responsibility.

Piot with Mandzomba on a return visit in 1986Piot with Mand­zomba on a return visit in 1986

Since that first visit, there have been more than 20 out­breaks of human Ebola haem­or­rhagic fever, all in Africa, except for a few laboratory-acquired cases. This year, and for the first time, Ebola virus caused a multi-country epi­demic in west Africa that ori­gin­ated in Guinea-Conakry. Humans are an acci­dental host, as a virus that kills its host in a couple of weeks could not sur­vive in nature. It is not clear how the virus reached this part of the con­tin­ent though its gen­ome has been found in a fruit-eating bat in Gabon. In gen­eral, Ebola is a dis­ease of close con­tact with wild­life, of poverty and par­tic­u­larly of dys­func­tional hos­pit­als, which can become deadly centres of viral spread through unsafe injec­tions and lack of basic hygiene. Health­care work­ers are usu­ally the first and most affected pop­u­la­tion. In prin­ciple it is very easy to con­tain an Ebola out­break: with gloves, hand-washing, safe injec­tion prac­tices, isol­a­tion of patients, safe and rapid dis­card­ing of the corpses of those killed by Ebola, and tra­cing of con­tacts and sub­sequent obser­va­tion for a few weeks. In real­ity, the health infra­struc­ture where Ebola strikes is usu­ally very poor and panic often leads to dis­sem­in­a­tion of the infec­tion, with people flee­ing affected areas, as is the case now in west Africa. As long as health ser­vices are inad­equate, there will be occa­sional out­breaks of Ebola in parts of Africa where the virus is hid­ing in some animal. In the­ory, there is no need to send in numer­ous out­side experts as con­trol meas­ures are very simple and inex­pens­ive and can be imple­men­ted by local pro­fes­sion­als and volun­teers. How­ever, the real­ity is that because of their high mor­tal­ity rate and con­ta­gious char­ac­ter, as well as today’s mobil­ity of people across bor­ders, out­breaks due to Ebola and other dan­ger­ous vir­uses must always be con­sidered as a global threat, amply jus­ti­fy­ing inter­na­tional sup­port and research. The cost of pub­lic panic and soci­etal dis­rup­tion can be enorm­ous, with health­care work­ers dis­pro­por­tion­ately affected – going far bey­ond the actual impact in terms of deaths due to Ebola.… My last visit to Yam­buku had been in 1986, 10 years after the first Ebola epi­demic. Along with col­leagues from the US Cen­ters for Dis­ease Con­trol, we tested the blood samples we had col­lec­ted in 1976 for HIV anti­bod­ies and found that 0.8 per cent were infec­ted – five years before the first reports on Aids were pub­lished in the US. I had gone back to find out what had happened to the indi­vidu­als who were HIV pos­it­ive and also to explore whether that other virus in my life had spread fur­ther in the region. We found that three had died but also that two men and women had been liv­ing with HIV for at least a dec­ade and appeared fairly healthy. The level of HIV infec­tion in the pop­u­la­tion at large was still 0.8 per cent though it was as high as 11 per cent among pros­ti­tutes in the region. Around the same time, HIV pre­val­ence among adults in Kin­shasa was as high as 6 per cent (today HIV pre­val­ence in the cap­ital has declined to 3 per cent).

The four nuns killed in the initial oubreakThe four nuns killed in the ini­tial oubreak

Our research showed not only that people can live for at least 10 years with HIV but also that the virus had exis­ted at low levels for many years in cent­ral Africa. Together with later genetic stud­ies of HIV isol­ates from all over the world, and the dis­cov­ery that chim­pan­zees can be infec­ted with a virus very closely related to the human immun­ode­fi­ciency virus, these find­ings helped elu­cid­ate the ori­gins of HIV.… On our last day in Yam­buku, the film crew wants to inter­view me on the front porch of the con­vent. It is now bar­ri­caded for secur­ity reas­ons but when I was here dur­ing the out­break, this was my favour­ite place to work and reflect while I watched people strolling by. It is with mixed feel­ings that I have to leave this beau­ti­ful place and people. A dream I wrote about in my mem­oir has come true: I have come back to Yam­buku, to “Ebola ground zero”, a place and exper­i­ence which changed my life. But I am left with many unanswered ques­tions: how do people live, sur­vive and die here? And what are their aspir­a­tions for their chil­dren? It is upset­ting to see the deteri­or­a­tion in liv­ing con­di­tions and infra­struc­ture, redu­cing people to their most basic con­di­tion humaine.

The Ebola virus photographed in 1976The Ebola virus pho­to­graphed in 1976

As I sit next to Father Car­los on the return trip to Bumba, I ask what drives him. He says his real reli­gion is fight­ing poverty and injustice. Then sud­denly he turns to me and says: “You chal­lenged me in 1976: why did I not do more for the daily life of the people of Bumba, besides all the reli­gious activ­it­ies? That is when I decided to start a hos­pital. You really turned around my life.” It is stun­ning that I had had any influ­ence on a priest but it is also a pro­foundly happy moment. Two days later, back in Kin­shasa, we take our first real shower in a week before going to a con­cert by super­star Papa Wemba, together with more than 20 former col­leagues with whom I had worked on Aids in the 1980s and 1990s in Pro­jet Sida. As always, I find the rumba and soukous lib­er­at­ing. The vital­ity expressed in Con­golese music reflects the cre­ativ­ity and love for life of the Con­golese people. They deserve bet­ter than their daily struggle for sur­vival. New vir­uses will unavoid­ably con­tinue to emerge, par­tic­u­larly where people and anim­als live in prox­im­ity but war, greed and cor­rupt gov­ernance are man-made dis­asters, and they can be pre­ven­ted. Peter Piot is a micro­bi­o­lo­gist and phys­i­cian, and dir­ector of the Lon­don School of Hygiene & Trop­ical Medi­cine. His book, ‘No Time to Lose: A Life in Pur­suit of Deadly Vir­uses’, is pub­lished by Norton. To com­ment on this art­icle please post below, or email


Smile for David’ Show 7.30 Sat 29th Nov Sallis Benney Interview with the DTMs

LISTEN HERE to inter­view with the DTMs  James and friends, about this amaz­ing event, fun­draiser for NNAB, a char­ity that gives prac­tical sup­port to blind people, and a hil­ari­ous musical evening.


Radio Free Brighton: Davy Jones’ Politics Show: Interviewing Davy Jones

Who is Davy Jones? Davy Jones, Green Party Par­lia­ment­ary Can­did­ate for Brighton Kemp­town, and reg­u­lar host of the Polit­ics Show, answers ques­tions posed by Jackie Chase of Radio Free Brighton and other volun­teers from the radio sta­tion                   . LISTEN HERE

Pre­vi­ous Shows:

Salt­dean Coun­tryside Alli­ance  LISTEN HERE

This week Davy Jones talks to Lisa For­rest from the Salt­dean Coun­tryside Alli­ance. A Plan­ning applic­a­tion has been received by Brighton and Hove City Coun­cil for 36 houses on the edge of the downs in Rot­ting­dean, at the north­ern end of West­me­ston Avenue, to the rear of Bish­op­stone Drive and Falmer Avenue, Salt­dean and can be clearly seen from Dean Court Road. To find out more and raise objec­tions go to

City of Sanc­tu­ary                 LISTEN HERE

This week Davy Jones meets Jenny Lans­dell from City of Sanctuary.City of Sanc­tu­ary is a national net­work, a move­ment of local groups made up by busi­nesses, com­munity organ­isa­tions and indi­vidu­als, all with one thing in com­mon; their belief that sanc­tu­ary seekers should be wel­comed, and that their con­tri­bu­tion to soci­ety should be cel­eb­rated.
City of Sanc­tu­ary Brighton…

Dis­cus­sion of the Drugs Issue     LISTEN HERE

This week Davy and Steve Peake dis­cuss the issue of drugs and effect­ive ways to approach the sub­ject through our com­munity and gov­ern­ment policy and altern­at­ive approaches being taken in other countries



Brighton & Hove City Council win prestigious conservation award

City Coun­cil win pres­ti­gi­ous con­ser­va­tion award

Work to cre­ate 15 new but­ter­fly havens in Brighton & Hove has been recog­nised with a national award.

Brighton & Hove City Coun­cil has won the pres­ti­gi­ous ‘Pro­mo­tion of Lepid­op­tera Con­ser­va­tion Award’.  The award recog­nises an out­stand­ing, unpre­ced­en­ted or major con­tri­bu­tion to the con­ser­va­tion of but­ter­flies and moths.  The award was presen­ted by Peter Tit­ley, Trustee of the Marsh Chris­tian Trust, the char­ity that sup­ports organ­isa­tions across the fields of con­ser­va­tion and edu­ca­tion, at the recent Annual Gen­eral Meet­ing of But­ter­fly Conservation.

Over the past seven years, council staff and con­ser­va­tion­ists have been work­ing to cre­ate new But­ter­fly Havens, across the city from East Brighton Park and Carden Avenue to Hove Lagoon, Green­leas and Mile Oak recre­ation ground.

”These havens have effect­ively brought the delights of the chalk downs within the reach of city dwellers,” said Dr Dan Dana­har, Hab­itat Res­tor­a­tion Officer for But­ter­fly Conservation’s Sus­sex Branch. ”They have allowed pre­cious down­land wild­life to flour­ish on poor qual­ity grass­land sites. Careful graz­ing in a plan designed to bene­fit wild­life has fur­ther enhancedthis green net­work of biod­iversity hubs and corridors.”

The city’s first But­ter­fly Haven was cre­ated at Dorothy Stringer School in 2007. Work involved land­scap­ing a chalk slope, sow­ing a care­fully selec­ted wild­flower seed mix and plant­ing 5,500 loc­ally sourced wild­flower plugs. Since then, 27 dif­fer­ent but­ter­flies have been seen on this site, a stag­ger­ing three quar­ters of all the dif­fer­ent spe­cies found in the city!

Inspired by this suc­cess Brighton & Hove City Coun­cil sub­mit­ted an applic­a­tion in con­junc­tion with the South Downs National Park in 2012 to become part of a Nature Improve­ment Area.  The applic­a­tion was suc­cess­ful and the Coun­cil secured £91,000 fund­ing for its part of the “South Downs Way Ahead” project.

John Gap­per, who works at the council’s Stan­mer Nurs­ery, worked with staff at the Royal Botanic Gar­dens Kew, who provided advice on how to col­lect single spe­cies of seeds.  These were planted and grown into small plant plugs by volun­teers. Dur­ing the winter, coun­cil rangers worked with more volun­teers to plant 200,000 wild­flower plugs.

This work has already benefited many but­ter­fly spe­cies, includ­ing the Dingy & Grizzled Skip­pers, Small and Chalkhill Blues and, in one case, bring­ing a colony of the spec­tac­u­larly beau­ti­ful Adonis Blue dir­ectly into the city centre.

Coun­cil­lor Pete West, Chair of the council’s Envir­on­ment, Sus­tain­ab­il­ity and Trans­port Com­mit­tee said: “I’m extremely proud that we have been able to cre­ate these mag­ni­fi­cent havens which are already attract­ing many but­ter­fly spe­cies back to the city.

All credit must go to John and Mark Gap­per and their hard­work­ing team of volun­teers whose know­ledge, inspir­a­tion and expert­ise has made this pro­ject such a huge success.”


In 2014, Brighton & Lewes Downs Bio­sphere was inter­na­tion­ally recog­nised by UNESCO as a new World Bio­sphere area. This was the first com­pletely new Bio­sphere site in the UK estab­lished for almost forty years.

Pic­ture shows (left to right) Peter Tit­ley of Marsh Chris­tian Trust, John Gap­per and his son Mark Gap­per of Brighton & Hove City Coun­cil, Dr Dan Dana­har of the Sus­sex Branch of But­ter­fly Con­ser­va­tion at the award presentation.



For fur­ther inform­a­tion contact:


Dr Dan Danahar



Tele­phone: 0779 111 3918 / 01273 621042


But­ter­fly Con­ser­va­tion is the UK char­ity ded­ic­ated to halt­ing the rapid decline of but­ter­flies and moths and pro­tect­ing our envir­on­ment. We run con­ser­va­tion pro­grammes for more than 100 threatened spe­cies and man­age over 30 nature reserves.



Claire Cooper

Press officer

01273 291087


BUAV criticises University of Sussex for deliberately hiding details of their animal experiments



Every Uni­ver­sity car­ry­ing out animal exper­i­ments in the UK is leg­ally obliged to provide the Home Office with fig­ures each year of the num­bers of anim­als they have used in their laboratories.

How­ever, the Uni­ver­sity of Sus­sex has today been cri­ti­cised heav­ily by the BUAV for being delib­er­ately obstruct­ive and pre­vent­ing this inform­a­tion being in the pub­lic domain.

Under the Free­dom of Inform­a­tion Act (FOIA) the BUAV has reques­ted the Uni­ver­sity provide details of the num­bers of anim­als used in 2013, the spe­cies and for what purpose.

Although the insti­tu­tion is obliged to provide this inform­a­tion, and has con­firmed it does indeed pos­sess it, it is refus­ing to do so. The Uni­ver­sity has claimed the reason for refus­ing the inform­a­tion is that, under Sec­tion 38 of the FOIA, it has con­cerns over the health and safety of the staff and stu­dents on its campus.

The BUAV has respon­ded that Sec­tion 38 FOIA can­not con­ceiv­ably apply to the inform­a­tion reques­ted. The sec­tion provides that inform­a­tion is exempt if its dis­clos­ure under the Act would, or would be likely to, endanger the phys­ical or men­tal health of any indi­vidual, or endanger the safety of any indi­vidual. There has to be a caus­at­ive link between release of the inform­a­tion in ques­tion and the cre­ation of, or increase to, a risk to safety. None is pos­sible here.

The dis­clos­ure of the num­ber, type of spe­cies and pur­pose of research could not pos­sibly endanger the safety of the university’s staff and/or stu­dents. By dis­clos­ing this basic inform­a­tion, appro­pri­ately anonymised, there is simply no risk which can jus­tify university’s reli­ance on sec­tion 38.


Michelle Thew, CEO of the BUAV said: “There is wide­spread con­cern over the use of anim­als in research but an informed debate can­not take place under a veil of secrecy. The research industry has made claims of late over its com­mit­ment to trans­par­ency and open­ness and yet we have encountered closed doors at Sus­sex Uni­ver­sity under a clause which simply does not stand up. The pub­lic has a right to know what anim­als are being used in research and why.”


Out of the 73 other uni­ver­sit­ies approached by the BUAV under the FOIA, only the Uni­ver­sity of Sus­sex has refused under Sec­tion 38 stat­ing health and safety concerns.

For fur­ther inform­a­tion, please con­tact Sarah Dickin­son on 020 7619 6978 / 07850 510 955 or


(1)    In Septem­ber 2014, a Gov­ern­ment announce­ment showed a con­tinu­ing decline in sup­port for animal exper­i­ments shown by two polls con­duc­ted by IPSOS-MORI for the Depart­ment of Busi­ness, Innov­a­tion and Skills[1]. High­lights:

·         The most com­mon descrip­tion of animal research organ­isa­tions is “secret­ive”, at 44%, whereas only 22% think of them as “well-regulated”

·         Only 8% of respond­ents sup­port con­tinu­ing to allow animal test­ing for clean­ing products

·         Research on cats for pos­sible bene­fit to humans is endorsed by only 15%, with only 14% sup­port­ing the use of dogs.

·         There has been a 7-point drop in sup­port since 2010 for animal exper­i­ment­a­tion gen­er­ally, and this is now a minor­ity view, at 47%.

For over 100 years the BUAV has been cam­paign­ing to cre­ate a world where nobody wants or believes we need to exper­i­ment on animals.

The BUAV is widely respec­ted as an author­ity on animal test­ing issues and is fre­quently called upon by gov­ern­ments, media, cor­por­a­tions and offi­cial bod­ies for its advice or expert opinion.

We work to build rela­tion­ships with MPs, MEPs, busi­ness lead­ers and other decision-makers. We also ana­lyse legis­la­tion and sit on decision-making pan­els around the globe to act as the voice for anim­als in laboratories.

Our ded­ic­ated London-based team coordin­ates an inter­na­tional net­work of sci­ent­ists, law­yers, cam­paign­ers, invest­ig­at­ors, research­ers, polit­ical lob­by­ists and sup­port­ers.

Sarah Dickin­sonMedia and Celebrity Liaison Officer
Brit­ish Union for the Abol­i­tion of Vivi­sec­tion (BUAV)
16a Crane Grove
Lon­don N7 8NN
Dir­ect: +44 (0) 20 7619 6978
Phone: +44 (0) 20 7700 4888
Fax: +44 (0) 20 7700
 The BUAV Vis­ion is: To cre­ate a world where nobody wants or believes we need to exper­i­ment on anim­als.Half the battle to bring an end to animal suf­fer­ing is fun­ded by gifts in our sup­port­ers’ wills.
If the time is right for you to put a good cause in your will please remem­ber ours.

South Downs Dark Skies Pledge

Take the South Downs Dark Skies pledge

Light pol­lu­tion is a big issue. It not only wastes energy, costs money and impacts on wild­life, it can even affect our health – for example by dis­rupt­ing sleep. It also stops people from enjoy­ing the night skies. The South Downs National Park Author­ity is call­ing for people to show their sup­port for tack­ling this prob­lem by tak­ing a Dark Skies Pledge.

The SDNPA are put­ting together a bid to make the South Downs an Inter­na­tional Dark Skies reserve. The first step is to map where the dark skies are, the next is to work with com­munit­ies to find where light pol­lu­tion is com­ing from and where light­ing can be improved to make our dark skies even better.

But to make this hap­pen the SDNPA also needs to show that people liv­ing in and around the South Downs sup­port the application.

Dan Oakley, dark skies ranger for the South Downs National Park Author­ity, said:

The South Downs National Park sits bang in the middle of the most crowded part of the coun­try but sur­pris­ingly we still have pre­cious places where the night skies are still dark enough to reveal an aston­ish­ing starscape.

Please show you back the bid by tak­ing the Dark Skies Pledge at

One of the best ways to exper­i­ence the night skies is at a star party run by your local astro­nomy group. Find them at


Joanna Glyde, Senior Media Officer

South Downs National Park Authority

Tel: 01730 819252 | Mobile: 07557 853277 | Email:

South Downs Centre, North Street, Midhurst, West Sus­sex, GU29 9DH


The Quaker Open House for Palestine and Israel Presents: Two Sided-Story

In this film Emmy award dir­ector, Tor Ben Mayor fol­lows a group of 27 Palestinian and Israelis who meet under the frame of a unique pro­ject called “‘His­tory through the Human Eye” led by Par­ents Circle — Fam­il­ies Forum — bereaved Palestinian and Israelis for Peace and Recon­cili­ation. The project’s goal is to acknow­ledge the nar­rat­ive of the other through encoun­ters between bereaved fam­il­ies, both Palestinian and Israeli in their homes and neighbourhoods.

Will their dif­fer­ences remain irre­con­cil­able, or will they, can they, begin to accept the real­ity that their col­leagues express?

The event is at Friends Meet­ing House, Ship Street, Brighton on Thursday, Decem­ber 4 at 7.30 p.m.

The Quaker Open House for Palestine and Israel

The Open House pro­ject has been launched by local Quakers to find prac­tical ways of respect­ing the com­mon human­ity in all people, whatever their reli­gious or non-religious back­grounds. We wish to offer a place of encounter for those of good will in our com­munity who see no worth­while future in the polit­ics of viol­ence and retaliation.

This is the first of what we hope will be a series of thought-provoking events on Israel and Palestine. Entrance is free. There will be a col­lec­tion at the end.

For fur­ther information, (Har­vey Gill­man) (away Novem­ber 23 – Decem­ber 1st) (Patri­cia Cockrell)


Justice for Bhopal 30 Years on: Petition and Events

On Decem­ber 3, 1984, nearly 30 years ago, Rampyari Bai’s daughter-in-law was seven months pregnant.

Neither her grand­child nor her daughter-in-law would sur­vive the labor.

That night, a toxic gas wrought with deadly chem­ic­als leaked from a Union Carbide pesti­cide plant in Bho­pal, India. It was one of the world’s most dev­ast­at­ing indus­trial disasters.

Demand that Dow Chem­ical ensures that their sub­si­di­ary, Union Carbide, responds to out­stand­ing crim­inal charges linked to the leak.

Rampyari Bai’s daughter-in-law went into sud­den labor. She and her baby died in the hos­pital soon after­wards. Between 7,000 and 10,000 people died within three days of the leak.

Though it’s been almost 30 years, this remains a press­ing issue. To date, more than 20,000 people are estim­ated to have died as a res­ult of the leak; hun­dreds of thou­sands suf­fer from ongo­ing health prob­lems. Rampyari her­self has struggled with cancer.

Demand justice for sur­viv­ors of this disaster.

Sur­viv­ors of the gas leak have never received adequate com­pens­a­tion to cover the full extent of their injuries.

Many have been driven deeper into poverty, yet the com­pan­ies involved have never been held fully account­able. Together, we can work to change this.

Tell Dow Chem­ical to ensure that Union Carbide respect India’s justice sys­tem and com­ply with crim­inal sum­mons to appear in court.

Let’s force an end to the suf­fer­ing and seek justice in Bhopal.

30 years is too long.


13 Novem­ber 2014

Book Launch at Pho­to­fu­sion, Brix­ton, 18:30 – 20:30, with an artists talk at 19:30.


17 Novem­ber 2014

Exhib­i­tion Launch at Amnesty Inter­na­tional UK, New Inn Yard, Shored­itch, 18:30 – 21:00, with a short talk at 19:30 (Fur­ther inform­a­tion com­ing soon)

19 Novem­ber 2014

Talk at Hous­mans Book­shop, Kings Cross, joined by Colin Too­good, Cam­paigns Man­ager of the Bho­pal Med­ical Appeal, 19:00. See:

21 Novem­ber 2014

Pub­lic exhib­i­tion opens at City Hall, 21 – 28 November, located on the Second Floor Cham­ber Lobby.(Further inform­a­tion com­ing soon)

28 Novem­ber 2014

Talk at Tet­ley Gal­lery, Leeds, as part of the Post Colo­nial Dis­aster Conference. See:


Conversation Piece – A Personal History of Fishing in Brighton with Alan Hayes 17th November 2:30–4:00pm


Con­ver­sa­tion Piece – A Per­sonal His­tory of Fish­ing in Brighton with Alan Hayes 17th Novem­ber 2:30–4:00pm Refresh­ments Provided
A relaxed heritage-focussed dis­cus­sion group, led by Lorenza Ippolito.Topics for con­ver­sa­tion focus on local his­tory and debate, and draw on themes in the cur­rent exhib­i­tion. Each event wel­comes a local speaker with spe­cial­ist know­ledge on the theme of choice.Seas and oceans are, in fact, vast eco­sys­tems all on the brink of loos­ing the del­ic­ate bal­ance which allows them to exist. They are also a source of food for us, fish­er­men have been work­ing off the South Coast of Bri­tain for cen­tur­ies, often in dan­ger­ous waters, bring­ing back food.
But now with dwind­ling fish stocks and pol­luted oceans, do fish­er­men recog­nise the need for reg­u­la­tion?
Join Lorenza Ippolito and Alan Hayes, to take a look back at how fish­ing has changed in Brighton from the last cen­tury to now.


Radio Free Brighton: Davy Jones Kemptown Startup Campaign 6.11.2014


A record­ing of Dave Jones Brighton, Kemp­town Elec­tion Cam­paign, held at The Sidewinder Pub on 6th Novem­ber 2014.


TTIP Films on line now from 6 billion ways plus reach 1million signatures

Thanks a lot to every­one who made it to TTIP: Cap­it­al­ism on Ster­oids at Rich Mix last week.All the films are now up our site - feel free to use or adapt them for your own events, or sug­gest oth­ers we’ve missed in the comments.

Next steps

We also prom­ised some next steps on TTIP organ­ising. Here are three for starters:
  1. Make sure you’ve signed and shared the European Cit­izens Ini­ti­at­ive on TTIP to help get it to 1 mil­lion sig­na­tures: Over 700,000 have signed so far.
  2. Get some cop­ies of the TTIP Times to give our in your area — email the World Devel­op­ment Move­mentWar on Want or Friends of the Earth for cop­ies or view online.
  3. Organ­ise a TTIP event loc­ally — you can sub­mit it to be lis­ted on the #noT­TIP web­site here:

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