Kaysone Phomvihane is by no means the only well-kept secret in Laos. There are also the bombs.

There are just a few photographs - some of them appear many times so as to fill up the space - and a display of the respected leader's comb, electric razor and favoured ping-pong bat.

But the crowning glory stands outside, where there's a new 30 foot, cast-iron, statue.

The sculptor hasn't gone for any flamboyant or flippant interpretation of his subject - his creation shows a middle-aged pot-bellied gentleman in a rather tight-fitting suit.

Laos's aging politburo - in matching suits - all turned up for the unveiling ceremony.

But as for the Lao, they didn't seem too interested and anyway they weren't invited. This was a private party - for the great leader's family friends and heirs.

Forgotten leader

For all that, I wanted to find out more. The official Vientiane Times has recently been canvassing opinion about the man.

Laos, one traffic policeman told the paper, has become known on the world's stage because of Kaysone Phomvihane.

I went to the Vientiane Times office and said: "I read your stories. What more can you tell me?"

It was lunchtime. "Sorry," they replied with winning smiles. "We're busy."

My next stop was Vientiane's only English language book shop. "Got anything on Kaysone Phomvihane?" I asked. "Ah," they said. "No, nothing at all."

A last resort then. The government itself - the foreign ministry press department. "Kaysone Phomvihane," I said. "What can you tell me?"

The official did at least agree that it was as fair a question as could be asked. Nodding vigorously he said: "I'll make some calls and get back to you." He never did.

Mystery violence

Kaysone Phomvihane is by no means the only well-kept secret in Laos. There are also the bombs.

There have been a whole series this year, but no one knows who is planting them.

The most recent certainly seemed to confuse the government. At first the foreign minister refused to talk about it. When pressed he said it was a piece of unexploded ordnance left over from the Vietnam War.

Aware that that sounded rather lame, some other officials tried an alternative explanation. Someone had lit a bonfire, they said.

True patriots, they wanted to celebrate the 25th anniversary of national day, the 45th anniversary of the Lao People's revolutionary Party and of course the 80th anniversary of Kaysone Phomvihane's birthday.

But sadly their fire was right by a disused aerosol can that blew up.

If the government was struggling, then so too was everyone else. Theories range from disaffected royalists to rebellious tribesmen.

But for my money the best explanation for the bombing campaign came from one of the few Western diplomats in Vientiane.

I know who's planting them, he said.

"It's the septuagenarians on the politburo. They are trying to get rid of the octogenarians."