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A week which saw a family from Hull pick up pounds 20 million on the National Lottery certainly puts the pounds 40 million raised by Live Aid in 1985 into some sort of perspective. As a nation we now out-donate Live Aid each Saturday, and instead of The Who, Paul McCartney and famine relief, we're happy to be entertained by Anthea Turner and 49 ping-pong balls.

Details of Live Aid 10th Anniversary (Sat BBC2) - the original concerts in London and Philadelphia reduced to five-and-a-half hours of mid-Eighties rock - can be found in the listings. As it happens, the question of rock- star relief is raised in another programme in BBC2's African Summer season. This is The New Map of Africa (Sun BBC2), a Hypotheticals-style debate chaired by Geoffrey Robertson QC in a tent somewhere in a Zimbabwean game reserve. The assembled experts (an ex-President, an exiled rebel army officer, an aid worker, a former US ambassador, etc) are asked to imagine a situation in which a tribal minority, whose homeland lies aspread the border of two African countries, is being butchered by a tyrant ruling one of those countries. Roberston asks the experts what they would think if some comedians or rock stars in the West were to raise money for trucks and grain for the war's refugees. At first silence. And then: "we are suffering from a heart attack and they're planning to cure our headache".

A Clive James or a Chris Tarrant would whip up cheap laughs from some of the material in the channel-hopping TV Afrika (Sun BBC2). You'd have to be irredeemably PC not to chortle at the Ghanaian drama in which a woman kills her unfaithful husband with a cap gun, or the the Ugandan soap where a mother seeks reassurance from a witch doctor - or at Sierra Leone's shoestring nine o'clock news, during which you can hear doors being slammed. But Namibian TV journalist Hilda Basson is not only far better looking than Chris Tarrant, she also knows that everything has a context without which it may seem ridiculous.

If the smell of institutional disinfectant, or morning-after cigar smoke, or newly-mown grass can transport you on an impromptu Proustian reverie, then you'll be within the natural constituency for Mystery of the Senses (Sun C4), which starts with our noses. Sadly it's a disappointing opener, getting lost, like the hero of Patrick Suskind's novel Perfume, along the highways and byways of the perfumier's art. It does however offer the incidental pleasure of witnessing grown men whose job it is to sniff around lavatory pans in search of revolutionary new odours for toilet cleaners. One of our men is looking for something less piney and more spicy. "Hope it doesn't have too much of a food-like connotation," he says, suddenly struck by a thought.

In their Vintage Thames season, C4 shows the first episode of the 1973 sitcom Man About the House (Sat C4), wherein Robin is introduced to Chrissy and Jo when he falls asleep in their bath after a party. I expected a good laugh at all the wrong things - the monster flares, the tank tops - and a maunder about how far we've come with its 1990s equivalent, Men Behaving Badly. In fact this is astonishingly confident - fast, spontaneous and remarkably undated. They should revive a few more.