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In this issue

A Burning Issue 2
Festival Reborn? 4
Martin Rowson 5
Good Neighbours 5
News in Brief 6
The Hasidim 8
Straight to the Point 11
Fluid Federation 12
George Alagiah 13
Girls Go Shopping 14
Old Kids 16
Christmas Treats 17
Council Sketch 20
Stokey, My Stokey 20
Gourmet Guide 22
Festive Gigging 24
Christmas Quiz 27
Auld Shillelagh 28
Pretty Ironic 29
Scrooge 29
Surfing N16 30
Winter Herbs 33
Bublicious 35
Garden Presents 36
North Bank 37
Crossword 38

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George Alagiah

Sue Heal

p13

copyright Robin Matthews

Stokey has the odd smattering of famous faces, most along the lines of 'do I know him/her?' or 'were they in the background on The Bill last week?'. But Sri Lankan-born broadcaster and journalist George Alagiah is your copper-bottomed 'Blimey it's George Alagiah in the flower shop' variety. We met for a quick cappuccino in The Blue Legume one morning surrounded by mothers with prams who were all pretending that they'd not noticed George Alagiah.

George, 47, his wife Frances who works for The Fairtrade Foundation (George is a patron) and their two adolescent sons have lived in Stokey since 1988 and unlike many rising stars have not decamped to tidier climes. 'I like the community feel and mix of people'. he says. ' There was a moment a while back when several things had gone wrong, my car had been broken into etc... but that evening some Muslim neighbours came round, it was the end of Ramadan, to give us some sweetmeats. We looked at each other and knew we weren't going anywhere.'

Despite his impeccable liberal credentials, Alagiah, a polite, thoughtful yet obviously highly motivated man has no truck with knee-jerk political correctness. His sons attended a local primary but are now at a much sought after selective secondary outside the borough. 'I get angry that my children can't have a decent enough education near their home'. he says. 'They are commuters. But I'm not ashamed of what we've done. I'm very proud of them. I think political correctness per se is just non-thinking, like those old farts we used to point out when we were young who always thought the same way about everything.'

'I've had to train myself to be dispassionate, to be a reporter'

Alagiah is one of the most famous faces on the BBC, moving from award-winning Africa correspondent, where he first gripped the nation's attention for his seminal reports on the Iraqi Kurds, Burundi and Rwanda, to news presenting. From January he will be the face of the flagship BBC 6 O'clock bulletin. Alagiah won the Royal Television Society's Journalist of The Year award in 1994 and it is his reporting from South Africa which 'earned me my spurs' and gave him clout to push other, more long term reports, within the BBC. 'I passionately believe that the developed world has to be become more involved in the larger economic questions about our attitudes to places like Africa.

For instance, I did a report on traditional herbal medicines; who owns them ­ the big companies who come in to take them or the people who've handed them down over generations? I had to push to do that one', he says. Alagiah becomes animated when talking of his beloved Africa. His Tamil family moved to Ghana when he was six to avoid persecution, and he writes of the vast continent with great vibrancy and concern in his recent book A Passage To Africa (published by Time Warner). ' I love the passion and if anything befalls Africa it hits me in the guts'. he says. 'I've had to train myself to be dispassionate, to be a reporter.' During the end of his sojourn as a foreign correspondent Alagiah hints that the necessary dispassion was becoming increasingly difficult. ' I would go to do a report and want to help, pitch in. I found I couldn't just walk away and regard my job as a cathartic process in itself. That's when you know it's best to try something new', he says. The something new was presenting the news instead of reporting on it. 'But I don't regard that as a lesser job, quite the reverse. It brings a huge sense of responsibility, especially as I'm not a traditional white news presenter. It's a very real way of demonstrating that we're not all muggers', he smiles.

Alagiah is in many ways a curious mixture. Bright, forthcoming, someone the Beeb is obviously keen to promote further up the firmament ('but it did take three goes to get in') and yet seemingly not afraid to publicly state his own views. How does he regard himself, British or an immigrant? 'Both', he says quickly and unequivocally. 'I was a migrant from the age of six. I believe strongly that we should look closely at our immigration laws in this country. By that I don't mean "come one come all". And I say this as someone whose family fled to find a "better life". We can no more be so-called politically correct about that as anything else. It's about what can people give and contribute?'

Alagiah is incredibly close to his extended family, they live in Finchley, and obviously regards family as the bedrock of his life. 'This is all me, me, me', he says, 'but my most contented times haven't been "in the field" but here on a rainy Sunday afternoon on with my kids watching a black and white movie.' But does he miss the reporter's field ? What was it like to come back to the rain and the bin bags? 'Fantastic', he says with obvious relish. 'I walked straight into my local Stokey newsagent to place my order again and it was "hello, George". Great. I was concerned that the boys might find it difficult. By necessity, they had led privileged lives in South Africa, going everywhere in cars with drivers for instance. But there was no problem. I like to think we slotted right back in.'

And with that he was off round the corner to buy some winter bulbs.

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