Bono means business over global poverty

UPSTAIRS, downstairs divisions apply in all settings, it seems even at the launch of a report on global inequality.

GOAL boss John O'Shea was left looking skyward as Bono, the Taoiseach, Mary Robinson and other VIPs disappeared up to the higher chambers of Government Buildings along a fine staircase carpeted in richest red.

"Why is it some people get brought up the hill and others get pushed down it?" he pondered aloud as he joined the mere mortals ushered downwards into the bowels of the building.

It wasn't a bad day to be a mere mortal as, for once, members of the Oireachtas, non-governmental organisations, the press and the diplomatic corps were all grouped together in one big sea of equality until they got to the bottom

of the steps where the diplomats were discreetly siphoned off to one side.

Poor Bertie appeared and apologised meekly for his modest Government press centre and the fact it wasn't big enough for everyone, so that some had to watch the proceedings on telly from an overflow room.

Cue the satellite video link with Mozambique for the simultaneous African launch of the report where President Chissano was sitting at what looked like a spindly-legged school desk with a few ragged-edged posters of smiling children behind him to take the bare look off the walls.

President Chissano had gone to the bother of finding a miniature Irish tricolour to stick in a floral arrangement in front of him alongside his own national flag something conspicuously absent from the five-star Dublin setting.

As the satellite picture kaleidoscoped into focus and attempts were made to summon the African leader through the inevitable long distance delay, Bono spread his hands out seance-style and enquired in ghostly tone: "Are you with us?"

Everyone was with Bono including Bertie, Tom and Liz, as he referred to the Taoiseach, Minister Kitt and his predecessor Deputy O'Donnell. This was Bono's kind of audience and he was going to play them for all his worth.

Threatening to bang dustbin lids and give people in authority a big headache, he sounded more like the young whippersnapper who gave security men heart failure when he climbed up the scaffolding of a stage in the Phoenix Park many moons ago than the middle aged, grey-bearded father he is.

But he is getting on. While other musicians have supermodels and soap stars hanging off of them, Bono has reached a stage where he attracts nuns.

Referring to Ireland's long history of missionary involvement in developing countries, he revealed: "Wherever you go in Africa there are Irish nuns jumping out of the bushes. They jumped on me on more than a few occasions and had me back in their hospitals and their grass huts and it's a fright."

Even in the rock business, it seems, it's not a fair world.