Daystar Graduate Feature
THE LIBERIA EXPERIENCE
By
John ole Kisimir
It
takes a peculiar state of mind before a man deliberately and cold-bloodedly shoots
down another. It must either be the terror of the hunted or the unbalanced frenzy
of the criminal lunatic. That is the reason why Liberia, the beautiful but war
torn West African country will remain in my mind for a long time. As a Christian aid worker, I have been to several war torn countries in Africa, Liberia being one of them. This strangely beautiful country has been limping for years but plunged into the abyss last year when rebels took greater chunks of territory leaving President Charles Taylor’s government marooned in the capital city, Monrovia. By August, he fled to Nigeria, ushering in a transitional government. By then, everything had gone ballistic. The level of violence was unimaginable. Thousands of women and children were dying either by the bullet or starving. Dozens of aid agencies including United National responded
and landed in Monrovia to help the vulnerable. I left Somalia for Liberia in early
September to lead the World Vision International communications team in Liberia.
I found a dead city. Most good buildings and landmarks in the city have been shelled.
Rebels and ragtag government militias have drawn lines of control with snipers
at large from different vantage points. There was no enough accommodation for
all visitors. Only two hotels were functional and could have been saved by their
proximity to the United States Embassy. The US embassy is a fort, surrounded by
razor wire, enough to shred a regiment. With my colleagues, we slept on the floor and ate cold food in our temporary residence cum-office. We were much better off because over 200,000 displaced peopled were crowded into a dozen camps within the city, with limited access to water, food and dignified shelter. For this reason, every morning we woke up prayed and planned on how best to help them. There was some level of security in most parts of the city, but our work does not confine us in the city. Thousands of displaced people were holed up in rebel held territories. They needed food, shelter and medicine. My first assignment on arrival was to accompany a convoy
World Vision International relief experts into rebel controlled territory in the
west of the country. It was a challenge, venturing into unknown territory. No
aid workers have gone out of the city for months as the war escalated. We were
all anxious. Will the rebels allow us to go through? How many people are still
living in villages? What are they eating? What is the level of violence, rape,
killings of civilians? We left the city headed
west to the heart of LURD rebels controlled Grand Cape Mount
County towns of Madina, and Bo Waterside as well as some areas of Lofa and Montserado
Counties. We were tense and anxious as we went through checkpoints manned by West
African Peacekeepers in the city but nothing prepared us for the situation outside
Monrovia. Thousands of
terrified, hungry and tired civilians were trekking towards the city. Most of
them women carrying children and bundles on their heads. We estimated the figures
to about 20,000. This was a sign that fighting is still going on in the interior.
Many have walked for days to reach the only place which they think would be safe
– Monrovia. There were roadblocks
after every few kilometers manned by excited and drugged child soldiers. More
was still to come our way as we approached the city of Tubmanburg. The child soldiers
were becoming aggressive. They shot into the air as we approached and took long
to let us go through the checkpoints. Some demanded food, water and money in that
order. Like everybody else in this country, they were also hungry.
We drove off road towards the villages to find out if any people still
lived here. Some were empty while in others people ran into the forest as we approached.
It was raining and roads were almost impassable. It was frustrating. We stopped Wenal village in Montserado County, 37 north
of Monrovia. It was deserted but I saw
smoke from one of the huts. As in other places, they have fled, they can no longer
tell friend and enemy. I saw a shrub move at the
periphery of the dense forest, then a face and several eyes. Frightened faces
of people who have known terror for long. We waved and called out that we have
come to help. A woman advanced, only a step at a time, and then pausing to stare, searching
for a hint of danger, she gathered courage and came slowly towards us. Somebody whistled and people started coming out from
the forest. They came out dancing in the
rain crying “Thank you God. Thank you Jesus.” They went round the convoy of our vehicles. They touched
the vehicles and hugged each other. It
is a heart breaking experience. They hugged their children and clapped with excitement
and celebrated that hope at last is coming to an already devastated people. They
have not seen anyone else but rebels fighting the government for months.
Food is impossible to find, they have been surviving on
cassava and bush yam. We turned back to the main road only to get into a
checkpoint. The soldiers got excited and started shooting into the air. We stopped
and they came around, asking questions. Most could not tell aid agencies from
their enemy. Our flag on the vehicles meant nothing to them. There was a dead
body lying at the checkpoint, a definite signal that they are trigger-happy and
a warning to those who disobey them. A child came around our vehicle, holding
a grenade in his left hand and an AK automatic rifle dangling from his shoulder.
He peeped through the window and asked for water. Another shot went into the air
and the checkpoint was opened for us. We drove to Tubmanburg city, the headquarters of the
LURD rebels to negotiate with rebel commanders modalities for distribution of
food to the starving population in the villages. The city was a busy place reeking
with the loot from Monrovia – rebels commandeered many four-wheel vehicles belonging
to government, UN and aid agencies when they stormed Monrovia. The commanders
were excited because hungry population is dangerous and they want the people on
their side. For the days that followed, we braved the tough weather
and insurmountable workloads. We distributed food to thousands of people. Thousands
more flocked medical clinics set up by World Vision in different camps. But the
fighting in the interior of the country continued to hurt civilians, forcing them
to flee to all directions. Aid agencies and governments pressured the UN Security
Council to send peacekeepers to the country to protect civilians and enforce a
ceasefire signed by warring parties. The situation was very fluid with militias
driving up and down on looted vehicles, sometimes shooting and robbing civilians. With time, life continued to improve. Food was reaching
to more displaced people but the security situation made the population very restless.
The good news finally came when the UN Security approved to send 11,500 peacekeepers
to Liberia, making it the largest peace keeping mission in the world. The 3,500
West African troops who were already on the ground would join the UN troops making
the number to 15,000. Excitement hit the streets of Liberian cities and displacement
camps. People celebrated and waited anxiously. On October 1, the West African peacekeepers swapped
to blue UN helmets in an elaborate ceremony thus becoming the first UN troops
in the country. The ceremony was to be attended by representatives of the warring
factions and government. It was a bright day. Officially, it was World Vision’s
prayer day. Most of us except those doing food distribution and critical medical
staff converged to pray. Of course, I was restless because I knew a lot of things
were going to happen. There was a possibility of the country to accept the peacekeepers
or some mad man shooting and taking the great stride made to nothing. As the leading
journalist for the organization, I did not want to sit but keep my eye open. The
whole partnership of over 100 countries was keenly following happenings in Liberia.
I had created that appetite, by filing great situation reports. I spend
late hours everyday writing news, features, editing digital pictures and doing
media interviews on the state of the country and our programs. I left the prayer room and drove to town. On reaching
the great bridge that separates LURD and government territory, I met a stampede.
People were running towards the city center. Vehicles were hooting and then crack
of automatic gunfire cracked and filled the air. A taxi braked just before us shouting that they will
take our vehicle. The rebels are coming. I picked my camera gear, alighted and
told the driver to return to base. What’s happening? No one knows. In Liberia, when you
hear gunfire, you run away as far as possible. Whoever is shooting or being shot
at is not your concern. “Run run. Don’t go there. They are coming!” the crowds
kept shouting. A UN armoured tank approached heading to the front
line, a TV van was closely in pursuit. I ran to the van, raising my cameras. It
stopped and I jumped in. What’s the news? Gunmen
have shot at LURD rebel leader Sekou Conneh. Mr. Conneh was on his way to see
interim President Moses Blah thus triggering an exchange of fire between rebels
and government troops. Several agencies lost vehicles to looters in the confusion
that ensued. Seven people were killed. I called my colleagues who were distributing food in
that area where the fighting started. The team leader, Tamba Macaulay advised
me not to go towards their direction. Suddenly the UN tank stopped and turned
to block the rock. Several vehicles carrying rebel soldiers approached. Two other UN tanks arrived with soldier’s arms
at ready and ordered the rebels to stop. The rebels were headed to the city center,
a situation that could lead to a full-scale war. I called Tamba again. His phone was off. I called the
office. Alex Slewion, our Security Officer ordered me back to base. Rebels have
taken 25 of our staff hostage. The staff, all from Commodities Department got
caught up on their return to the city from a food distribution exercises at a
displaced people’s camp about 23 km from Monrovia. The information hit us badly. We assembled and prayed
for their safety and kept calling the UN peacekeepers for any information. By
8.00 pm we were informed that peacekeeper have traced our vehicles and rescued
all our staff. But there is no safe passage to the city any more. Gunfire is cracking
everywhere. Rebels and government troops are looting everything and anything that
came their way. My colleagues spend a night at a peacekeepers checkpoint and were
driven back to the office in the morning. By
evening UN troops had contained the skirmishes. Tension was very high in the city.
Civilians continued to be harassed by gunmen in the northern counties of Lofa,
Nimba and Bong. As the situation stabilized in Monrovia, civilians reacted
with joy. They danced in the streets and in overcrowded
camps and cheered as UN troops passed by their homes. They clung on to hope for
a better future. I
woke up to the day of my departure. Just as the day I arrived, it was oppressively
hot, with the threat of a rainstorm looming up out of the east. The first lightning
bolt struck with a crackling electric explosion that seemed to singe the air about
me. The thunderbolt seemed to shake the sky and rock the earth’s very foundations.
The rain came in buckets. It drummed, roared and deafened. I
left another devastated African country but still shared Murie Lester’s view that:
"War is as outmoded as cannibalism, chattel slavery, blood-feuds,
and
dueling, an insult to God and humanity...a daily crucifixion of Christ.” John ole Kisimir is a journalist working for World Vision International, Somalia. He graduated from Daystar University in 2001 with a degree in Communications. He was editor of Involvement in 1999/2000. |