Liberia will always be home
By Tewroh-Wehtoe Sungbeh
Vadro Kone’ is a friend, an Ivorian, who’s never shy to discuss his days in Liberia with me.
I thought I knew Liberia since it is my birth country, but when Kone’ opened his mouth to discuss his former adopted homeland, what he said reinforced my own sense of patriotism.
Like most people in search of good times and greener financial pastures, Kone’ left Cote d’Ivoire in the late ’70s to find work, spending five years in Liberia before that country fell violently.
Here’s the part of the story that is not so surprising.
Kone’ told me that his 5-year stay in Liberia were the better days of his life. “How can it be?” I asked. Because during the time he moved to Liberia, Cote d’Ivoire was the place to be because it was seen as developed and prosperous. Thanks to the heavy-handedness of the development-minded Felix Houphoet Boigny, the only President the people of that country ever knew long before its present-day problem.
“Liberians are nice and friendly, but are pompous,” Kone’ said. “While I was in Liberia, I worked hard and made U.S. dollars, learned English, joined the nite club scene and met few lovely Liberian ladies,” he also said.
Kone’ said again: “When I was in Liberia, I also heard Liberians say things like, I was born here, and I will die here. This is my country, I will not go nowhere. Now Liberians are all over the world.”
Vadro Kone’ is right about one thing. Before the civil war, Liberians always believed their country was the best thing that ever happened to them since the introduction of rice, the country’s staple to the population.
As I reflected on Kone’s comments, I also reflected on my dear Liberia, because as the Christians would say, “Liberia needs prayers for what she has gone through over the years.”
That’s because after the presidential election of 2005, many believed those dark days of corruption, poverty, neglect and inequality that partly agitated the civil war were behind them. Sadly, the nation has since returned to business as usual.
The late Liberian singer, Morris Dorley, said it well in his famous song that “no matter where you live, Liberia’s my home.”
That’s exactly what that country is to all of us, home. Infact some of our relatives, friends and loved ones are still living there. Though some perished senselessly during the 14-year civil war, others fled by sea, land and air to countries all over the world for safety, security and opportunities.
Though broken and destroyed, Liberia, I swear, will never be forgotten or be the same.
Just ask my friend, Vadro Kone’ and others including the Fulanis, Indians, Lebanese, Syrians, Africans, etc, etc, who made Liberia their home over the years. As Liberians hurrily got out of their country in droves because of economic and political reasons, non-Liberians are still moving in.
I miss Liberia, yah!
Who can dare forget those historical football rivalries between Mighty Barrolle and Invincible Eleven (IE)? Or a do-or-die football match between, let say, St. Joseph’s Warriors and Mighty Barrolle, IE or BAME?
In Liberia, we have our own handshake. Do you all remember that unique handshake? It is the handshake with the snapping of the fingers. A unique one that is as old as Liberia. And our own way of speaking the English language, completely different from most countries in the region. What’s about the historic ‘LU’ (University of Liberia) and Cuttington College. Two excellent institutions with great teaching traditions.
What can we say about Liberia without ever mentioning the historic Broad Street and Waterside? This article will be incomplete without mentioning historic neighborhoods such as West Point, Clara Town, New Kru Town, Logan Town, Gurley Street and Old Road Sinkor?
What about that old Liberian past-time, Club Beer? A cold Club Beer on a hot Liberian day can be reassuring. Or a not-so-cold cup of Palm Wine under Bong Mine Bridge, opposite PUA or LEC on Bushrod Island. Drinking Palm Wine out of those unsanitary cups with flies and bees flying around or dead in the pine wine was always an experience in itself.
In Liberia, we have streets and cities with Western (U.S.) names: Randall, Broad, Carey, Gurley, Benson, Newport, MacDonald, Mississippi, Maryland, Marshall, Lousiana, Lexington, Virginia, Arthington and many more, a clear reminder of our quasi-colonial past.
Our flag and Constitution? Well, look at the one in the United States and tell me whether you can tell the difference.
Anyway, why is it that policymakers never gave those streets and cities indigenous names reflective of the nation’s ethnic heritage? Or why our flag, our national symbol isn’t another color? Why is the Liberian flag copied after the American flag?
Perhaps an all black, red or orange flag with different colors springled around it, with a woman aptly named: Teahdee, TarNyonnoh, Musue, Bendu or Kamah as the proud designer, would have paid tribute to Liberian women. Instead, we have been told that the Liberian flag was designed by a “Susannah Lewis.” Again, that’s Liberia.
With its many problems and unlimited resources, Liberia can be a great country. Until it can be a great country, Liberia will always be home.
Category: Editorial
