NATIONAL CLEANING SATURDAYS; A GOOD IDEA GONE SOUR

Back in the Wide-eyed days of Valentine Strassers’ NPRC military rulership, the youth taking ownership of their communities began to dedicate themselves to beautifying and cleaning exercises. From painting murals in honour of the forefathers of modern Sierra Leonean history to planting trees and cleaning gutters; somewhere between the nostalgia of all this ownership came the National Cleaning Day Saturdays. It came into law that on the last Saturday of every month that Freetownians far and wide should pick up their brooms, curl their backs, and bend down low majestically stroking the earth to gather and dispose of their rubbish. The evolution of the National Cleaning Day was connected with the Citywide need of the young, old, and the disenfranchised of Pa Shekie and Momoh’s APC regimes to reclaim a piece of what was for so long denied them; civic participation.

The youth dedicated themselves many times without pay to changing the face of the city and I believe for the first time in a while we as the wider Freetown community began to take more pride in our environment. I even remember a recirculation of the Sierra Leone 50 Heroes Booklet…Or was it commissioned at that time, I’m not sure. For some odd reason Pato Banton’s Go Pato comes to mind as the song that captured the upbeat feeling in the city at the time, especially the line where he says “ to all the youth I stand and salute cause they stay in line with the reggae root”. I also recall that during this same period “One Love, Respect” was a popular manner in which people greeted each other. Yes, in the early days of the NPRC people where hopeful, eager for change, and willing to do the necessary to contribute to it.

But almost 15 years later, is the National Cleaning Saturday recently re-implemented by the new government as useful to the current post war, post overcrowded, post lack of sufficient dump trucks, post Youth Employment Scheme Freetown. I hear that the National Cleaning Saturday is in the hands of the Vice President’s Office and not Freetown City Council that is generally charged with cleaning the city. Conceptually, getting the people to stop everything they’re doing one Saturday a month to clean their surroundings is good but when the rubbish removed from the gutters ends up as mounds on major street roads then one has to wonder if this very good idea has not gone totally sour. Without adequate planning and resources the National Cleaning Saturday becomes not only counter productive but a waste of time and energy. The Cleaning Day needs to be accompanied with a City-Wide public education campaign spearheaded by the Ministry of Health, and an effective mechanism for disposing of the rubbish that people gather.

Right now in Banana Water, my very own neighbourhood; when people gather rubbish whether cleaning day or not, they dump it in the ocean. The rubbish stays exactly where they put it; on the banks. People have reclaimed what previously was sandy beach to turn into homes…there is a whole community leaving at Olohshoro on reclaimed land from the ocean. Many of them not only lack running water but also toilet facilities. Hence, the ocean is home to their doo doo and their dump. A friend recently pointed out to me the economic question of the National Cleaning Saturday…If no one is allowed to leave their homes until midday on an important business day as Saturday, imagine how much money is lost in revenue on that day alone to the businesses and the government who loses out on tax payer leones.

This is a new government and more importantly it is the people’s government even more so than the NPRC regime was: a democratically elected one. City dwellers that almost unanimously voted for this APC government will I’m sure be as willing to follow any well thought out and implemented cleaning system that is put in place. But let us not hold on to the relics of time, and hand me down solutions such as the National Cleaning Saturdays. Our new government should use this unique opportunity to find a lasting and maybe even revenue generating means to keeping the city clean. Personally, I would start by imposing a fine on any man who unzips his pants and pees onto a wall or a gutter….Nor Piss Na Ya. Freetown is being pissed on by the gallons everyday by men and boys who think that because it can be whipped out easily that they should. What if women started opening their wrappers and butuing to piss all over the country…An equal rights campaign to not be out pissed by the men. If we are going to piss on our country lets do it together, Di man dem piss na di right, di uman dem na di let. Amin

The Beckam Visits Sierra Leone

(photo Courtesy of timesofmalta.com)

When my friend told me that David Beckham was in town, I went Black Rob on him “Like Whoa”. He was surprised I didn’t know but then again I think he’s got more sources of local information that I do. Even before I asked him what the hunk himself was doing in Sierra Leone I knew it had to be an Angelina Jolie. Almost as if he read my mind, he said, “as a goodwill Ambassador”. “I hate when these stars use us as publicity stunts” me says “yeah but its good publicity for Sierra Leone” says he.

In the business of development (which for Sierra Leone’s purposes means developing a thriving private sector and attracting investors and not donors…No Amartya Sen “development as freedom”) is having headlines read that Goodwill Ambassador Beckham visits Sierra Leone useful for us as a country? When people come to your country on goodwill missions it means that the conditions in your country are deplorable as I guess they are here. But though this is the image that NGOs may want to portray of Sierra Leone because it gets more projects funded, I’m not sure that the government at this very crucial time in our nation’s history actually wants more donors than investment. Beckham is hot. Sierra Leonean boys and men like others much like them all over Africa who are fascinated by European and British football adore Beckham but that’s where it stops. Beckham coming to Sierra Leone is not really going to help us fight against infant mortality. What the government needs foremost is the will to take on infant and maternal death rates as an important if not the most crucial health issue in this country. Then the government needs to devise a plan to combat this problem and then finally the funds to implement the plan. I am aware of a World Bank Grant to Sierra Leone to the Ministry of Health to improve infant/maternal death rates that was approved last year but has still yet to have funds released therefore the project has not started.

A week before Beckam came my uncle sent me a link to a UNICEF report on infant mortality in Sierra Leone…as I have said before, they are the worst in the world; 270 out of 1000 children born in this country will die before they are 5 years old (But truly not the children of rich parents who can afford to send their wives to deliver overseas and understand the need for and can afford regular health check ups for their kids. As is the truth everywhere; Income inequality means unequal access). I guess what UNICEF hopes for is that the headlines will read Beckham visits Sierra Leone and someone checking out that link on google or wherever, would want to know why he visited and then maybe in the process learn about infant mortality rates in Sierra Leone and elsewhere and care about it enough to take action; which in this case would mean donating to UNICEF. I’m guessing that studies have shown that this is the most affective way to draw attention to these kinds of issues and that we’re not receiving bad press just so Beckham can be in the press.

On his blog Beckham writes:

I was also humbled by the people of Sierra Leone who despite the problems they face, keep smiling and are hopeful for the future. They made me feel extremely welcome in their country and I will never forget the experience. One in four children die in Sierra Leone before they reach the age of five and many of the diseases that children suffer can be prevented. I genuinely hope that by visiting the affected areas and spending time with some of the people there, it will draw the world’s attention towards the problems children face not only in Sierra Leone but similar situations across the world. If you want to make a donation to the fantastic work that UNICEF does then please click here.

Clearly he wasn’t talking about all the people in Sierra Leone, as he wasn’t lucky enough to meet me. But statements like his puts all the people of Sierra Leone in one basket “Sufferin and Smilin”…Ah Fela your wisdom is endless. I wonder what the youths dem would say cause they are not smiling at all in fact they’ve made it clear that they are disgruntled… “Man dem no gladi”. I guess no one would give money if he said, “I went to Sierra Leone and the people are so miserable and hopeless, they can’t even crack a smile.” If you’re going to be a poor African in need you have to smile :-)

One of the gossip blogs writing about Sierra Leone much like i feared reported that:

“Hollywood soccer hunk David Beckham has handed out free soccer lessons to star struck children in the poverty-stricken African nation of Sierra Leone. The LA Galaxy star has jetted to the tiny African state as part of his role as a United Nations Children's Fund goodwill ambassador.”

Who wants to be from or better yet visit the tiny poverty stricken African nation of Sierra Leone? I guess we should be thankful that potential investors to this country will not look to gossip blogs to collect information on the state of the nation. But regular everyday folks do read these kinds of blogs and for those of us who believe that bringing tourists to Sierra Leone could add a boost to the economy certain adjectives like “poverty-stricken” is like a jab to the ribs. Who knows maybe tourism revenues could change infant and maternal mortality rates in Sierra Leone? Actually, I think that might be a more sustainable solution than any amount of money one would donate to UNICEF on account of Beckham’s visit. So should we be more focused on the amount of people who are going to give to UNICEF because of this visit or those who have been turned away in fear of this tiny African state? On sait jamais!

In an article CHILD MORTALITY HIGHEST IN SIERRA LEONE, Associated Press Writer Eliane Engeler writes:

Sierra Leone, where a civil war raged from 1991 to 2002, is unable to offer sufficient health services to its citizens, like many war-torn countries such as Angola and Afghanistan, the report said.
Steven Ngaujah, a nurse at Brookfields Community Hospital in Sierra Leone's capital, Freetown, said many parents in his community are too poor to bring children in for checkups.
Annie Brima, also a nurse in the capital, said, "When these children fall ill, instead of the mothers taking them to the nearest hospital immediately, they prefer to 'pepper doctor'" — treat them at home.

SAVE THE CHILDREN, SAVE THE COUNTRY
A good informative read would be Medecins Sans Frontier Report on Health in Sierra Leone from 2006

Claiming Ishmael Beah And Standing By Him

Last weekend an article was written in the Australian claiming that Ishmael Beah may have gotten the dates and length of the time spent as a child soldier wrong. Supposedly, the attack that separated Ishmael from his family happened in 1995 and not in ’93 and he may have spent 2months fighting in the army instead of 2 years. It also means that he was 15years old and not 13 during the period in question. Someone posted a comment on my blog calling Ishmael a ‘fraud’ and several other individuals have made similar comments on the Global Voices Online discussion of A Long Way Gone.

Do I think he’s a fraud? Does it matter that it was 2months instead of 2 years? Would my perception of the book be different if I had read the story as having happened to a 15 year old boy in 1995 for 2months?

Ishmael Beah’s “A Long Way Gone” will now and always serve as a testimony of children caught the world over in civil conflicts; victims and perpetrators of violence. Ishmael will always be a hero for surviving his ordeal and living and learning to write about it. There are those who may feel as though they’ve been duped by Ishmael, his mother, and his publishers. But the question remains to be answered as to whether he intentionally misled his readers or if he simply got it all mixed up in the effort to remember and forget his past. I have met Ishmael, listened to him, talked to him and laughed with him and I believe every word of his story and I do not think that he would lie or mislead anyone intentionally

I wonder if Africans who have read the book (especially Sierra Leoneans) will feel as troubled by the question of dates as by others. Culturally, our relationship to time is different from western notions of time. This unique relationship to time affects the way we tell stories and the way we remember things. While Westerners are likely to refer to the year something happened and then the event, for us the focus is usually on the event itself. Time alone is not important….Events make time important. I am not saying that Ishmael or Africans for that matter do not understand or subscribe to established standards of time rather, that the focus for me is more so on what happened to Ishmael and how it happened.

Clearly, his publishers could have done more research to make sure that the dates in A Long Way Gone were in sync with public records of events in Sierra Leone. That information is easy to be culled as proven by the contributors/writers of the article in the Australian. Granted we do not know for certain if their sources are legitimate, and if they are enough to disprove Ishmael’s memory of the dates. Personally, I think that who ever and for what ever reason, some people do not want to believe that Ishmael Beah is capable of writing his book, being so articulate, after having experienced such an ordeal. The truth however, is that Ishmael is capable.

Why did the publishers not go through the trouble of finding out???....Maybe they thought, “another African memoir of war…Oh well, get it out soon as possible.”

Regardless of what you might think of this time controversy, the book is still amazingly brilliant. Ishmael Beah is a survivor and a great writer!

A part of me wishes his ordeal was just for two months….But then again “2 months” can also seem like two years when everyday is filled with brutality, isolation, loss, and violence.

ISHMAEL DEFENDS HIMSELF AGAINST RUMORS & ACCUSATIONS

The Value of Friendship, For Yeanoh Kohbo Foot

When I was a kid I had two homes, my father’s single family unit at Aberdeen Police Barracks and my maternal grandparents’ home at Banana Wata. My dad’s house was like a prison, and I was always inside of it watching kids who I wasn’t allowed to play with have what seemed like, the time of their lives. I hated it. No running wild and free, no play cook, no accra, no noise, and certainly no fun…there was so little play time outside that my clothes were always sparkling clean.

Banana Wata was totally different…one word to describe it…HEAVEN. It had all the ingredients for child’s play: more children than I could count, lots of dirt, bushes, wide open spaces, and porous non existent fences that linked me to “temne compound”.
The cool neighbourhood kids who could be counted in my posse included “yamba bozin” , “mummy for ya namina” “adama lengi lengi lek peppeh bod” “ zainabu” “ol’ men” “mama yo” “malado” “yeanoh kobo foot” and yours truly “Vickie eng mot”
The “eng mot” was a reference to my comparatively large bottom lip (now totally in vogue) then a taunting that could bring me to tears.

I was obsessed with playing and since I didn’t have any chores at home I usually took it upon myself to round the troops. Sometimes I’d be so eager to play that I’d go to my friends’ homes and voluntarily sweep a compound or wash dishes. The quicker my friends’ chores were done the more time we’d have to play
Many times I was turned away from homes
“aunty good afternoon, yeanoh day”
“yes in day wok, wetin apin”
“A cam call am fo go play”
“go wait na os, in go cam way in done”
Sometimes they would come, many times they wouldn’t

I had two best friends from ‘temne compound’: “Mummy fo ya namina” and “ yeanoh kohbo foot”. They were both at least three or four years older than me but in the world of not enough to eat at home and sometimes heavy chores; puberty was delayed and made it possible for us too look the same age….well atleast I thought we did
Actually, I never thought of their age. The only thing that ever bothered me was “oostem u day done so we go go play?”

Back then I didn’t know they were poor, that we were from different social classes. When my friend “Adama lengi lengi lek peppeh bod” died she wasn’t a statistic of infant mortality rather a victim of witchcraft. We knew this because an old lady that died within weeks of her death was said to have “proved” or confessed to being a witch and responsible for Adama’s death. Weeks after her death, the old witch was behind many of my nightmares. When bats came to the plum tree by our bedroom window, neighbours from temne compound would come out past midnight with their pots and pans to sing and curse the bats…everything between “u mami im bombo” to “basta pekin”. Supposedly, the bats were witches in their supernatural state, hence why they only came out at night.

Many nights I slept half in fear of those bats and half infuriated by the noise of the anti bat crusaders preventing me from fully entering into my bat nightmares. The plum trees have since been chopped down.

Today my grandmother had a meeting with the women from the local mosque, being the oldest, she’s head of the women’s group. One of the members of the group is my friend Yeanoh’s mother. I don’t remember her name but when I say “aunty”, luckily it need not be followed by a name.
“ aunty appi nyu iya, na so fo get pikin?”
“Vickie ow di bodi”
“fine”
“aunty i don tay way ah see u oh”
“na Yeanoh, na im bin wan die na mi an”
When I came to town 6 months ago Yeanoh was pregnant. I went to visit her but she wasn’t home and somewhere between my everyday hustle and shuffle I didn’t go back.
“Oona noh bin ker am go ospitul?”
“Na Marie Stopes, na day-in noh ivin ‘ol di pikin”
“She lost the baby?” (I say in english to delay the familiarity of what I’d just heard)
“Aunty ah go cam na os tiday”
“Okay Vickie”

As she walks away I feel like the air is closing in on me. I walk into the house several times but each time I forget what I’m searching for. The thought that Yeanoh Kobo foot carried her baby for nine months and she almost dies giving birth and she never gets to hold her baby breaks my heart. As I process the thoughts and feel guilty and sad for not having known earlier, I remember the statistics of infant mortality and maternal death rate in Sierra Leone; they are the worst in the world. Getting pregnant here is like playing Russian roulette.

Yeanoh and I were inseparable as kids. But 13 years of time and difference, our friendship is frozen in the past. All we know how to do together is play. There is no room for sharing secrets, pains, and frustrations. As much empathy as I could feel for her, I could never understand what’s she’s gone through or what life has been for her over the past couple years, and I’m afraid some of my problems may seem trivial compared to hers.

When I visit her what am I going to say? I’ve developed this nasty habit of using jokes as a protective mechanism for feeling..but I doubt I’ll find the right thing to say to get a smile out of Yeanoh. I am anxious about my impending visit to Yeanoh’s house. On the one hand I feel that its my fault that we are no longer friends, it was I who left so I should’ve reached out to her when I moved back. I am also asking myself, how can I help Yeanoh…Will she even want my help? Would it be insulting to offer her money, even though I know that though money wont change anything, that’ll reduce some of her present worries.….I don’t know what to do, but we’ll see.

Banana Islands, December 2007

Islands to remember...

In the court yard of Kent Village’s flamboyant beach front bar, Push Garden, JCs, Home base, Returnees, and Tourists relax after the first leg of the VSL 2007 Banana Island Trip. Small talk gradually turned into sustained laughs among the group against the sounds of waves breaking ashore on the Kent Beach. Push Garden’s round, low-thatched hut in the center of this sandy Rastafarian compound provided cover from the midday sun for the young lovers among us. The tourist from Austin standing in the shade of the proverbial sycamore tree remarked on the beauty all around him – the cool faces and breath-taking smiles from the largely female group in front of him, the lush green mountains in the background, and the view of the Atlantic beach front. The conversations were about the sights and sounds of urban, peri-urban, and rural sceneries that the group enjoyed from their air-conditioned mini-buses as we made our trip to Kent from Freetown.

The trip to Banana Island was planned to begin promptly at 8:30am from M&G Enterprises at Congo Cross. Jiwoh single-handedly extended the departure time by an hour. However, when he finally arrived he came with a bag of toffee as a peace offering, which he distributed like rice at a political rally. The group boarded two air-conditioned mini-buses and one Land Rover and made its way to Kent through the mountain villages of Regent, Charlotte, and Bathurst and Grafton. The bumpy ride through the hillside was followed by a smooth ride to Kent on the newly built peninsula road.

The boarding call

Bimbola, tour organizer and founder of VSL, interrupted the “Rastaman” vibes at Kent Beach to announce that the boat was ready for boarding. The first group made its way through the relics of old seawalls and down a rock laden path to a cove where the canopy-top canoe colorfully labeled “Banana Island Guest-House” waited. On the way down, the group was treated to the sight and smell of fresh fish being carried up. The final call to board meant removing your shoes to wade through the knee-high water and climbing into the canoe. Safety first and all passengers were required to don an orange life jacket. Under the expertise of our able crew, the canopied canoe cruised out of the cove and into the deep blue sea with the outline of Banana Islands in the horizon.

While waiting for the canoe to return, the second group hurdled in the round hut and more Sweet Salone small talk ensued. The conversation flowed from experiences with Ghana Airways (perhaps we were all hoping that the canoe trip across to Banana Islands will top the services of Ghana Airways) to tales aptly dubbed ‘Only in Salone.’ Only in Salone can you see a bride mounted on the back of an Okada (motorcycle taxis) leaving the limo trapped in traffic. Only in Salone can the honk from a car be interpreted by a pedestrian as a call to move into the street.

Soon, it was time for the second group to board the canoe. The canoe ride was the experience of a lifetime for many in the group. Almost everyone was apprehensive about being so close to the water – some covered their anxiety with loud jokes while others were silent as the canoe cut through the gentle waves of the Atlantic. During the 20 min canoe ride, the captain at the stern pointed out Cape Shilling Island, Mr. Wolf –the submerged rock face and its victim a Chinese trawler, uninhabited big Allen Island. Banana Islands stood reassuringly ahead at all time and encouraged more moco talk as we approached it shores.

On the approach into Dublin, Banana Islands, the guest house’s round chalets with patios could be scene against the backdrop of rich foliage of trees. We were welcomed ashore by the aroma and sights of barbequing grouper and ‘country fowl’. The familiar sounds from the first group added to the welcome of the disembarking second group. We were all happy to be back together again as one big VSL group.

The Repas

On our arrival, a round of cold drinks was served, including fresh jelly water lightly chilled. Lunch included rice, barbecued chicken, barbecued fish, couscous, garlic sauce, stew, and greens. The highlight of the meal was dessert, which was a salad of coconut jelly, paw-paw, and banana in coconut juice with a touch of lime – served in individual coconut shells. On seeing the dessert presentation, the group bursts into spontaneous chants of “VSL VSL!”

The Walk

After a sumptuous lunch, the group set out on a walk across the island with our tour guide, ‘K Plus.’ We saw old colonial lookouts where cannons hide amongst over-grown grass, the Banana Island Museum founded by the Carleton Carew Foundation, the Slave Grave Pit (where apparently the buried alive slaves who were deemed not strong enough to work in plantations), remains of the St Luke’s Church, Zion Methodist Church, the cemetery, and more. We were heralded with stories about the island and islanders (including the dead who direct the course of their journey to the grade – ask K-plus about this story.)

The Return

Enlightened, exhausted, and expectations exceeded, the group returned to the guest house cove and assembled for the return trip across to Kent. Evening tides had already set in and so the waves were higher than we had experienced earlier in the day. Apart from the sound of the waves rocking against the boat the return was a much quieter trip – whether it was because fellow journeyers were tired from their busy day or just anxious to return to dry land only they can say. In contrast to the scenic journey through the mountain hills our return was through the city of Freetown on a Friday evening. We were welcomed by throngs of people, cars, and “okadas” who, like us, were making their way home after a busy day.

In all, Banana Islands was a great experience. We will definitely go back. Next time perhaps we’ll spend the night at one of the lovely chalets. Thanks VisitSierraLeone.org and Abimbola for showing us another part of our beautiful country. Next stop, Tiwai Islands?

Adrian & Bidemi.

More pictures on the VSL Facebook Group

Presidential get together for JCs, BC, JCs from Kalangbai and Returnees

When the invitation from His Excellency the President and the First Lady was dropped off for me I was quite impressed. "Wow.. the President requests the pleasure of my company?!" but then I heard the event was advertised on Radio 98.1, and I fell straight back down to earth, it wasn't an exclusive affair. The event was the "End of year Holiday Makers get-together". Interesting. Anyhow, I turned up armed with my camera and was promptly told by a security guard that I shouldn't cross this imaginary line here. Same dude, who later said that the government will soon sell off Celtel along with some other 20 odd parastatals up for privatisation. That provided some light relief, and was also probably the first time  I laughed heartily without a sound... for fear of being told I'd crossed that line and kicked out.

Anyway, the event itself was quite a spectacle and the turnout was massive. I got there a bit late and the President had done his rounds going round for some chit chat and shaking hands. There were about 6 speakers before the President himself had the final say. The ministers for the regions all had their say in addition to the ministers of Finance and Employment. I enjoyed listening to the Minister for the North. He sold the North quite well and I had to agree that the North is one of the most beautiful areas in the country with very promising tourism potential. It is unfortunate that the past APC regime, in power for 27 years had neglected this region even though they are perceived to be a Northern party. Maybe this administration will do different.

All speakers reiterated the role of the Diaspora in aiding the economic development of Sierra Leone and according to the Finance Minister's calculations the Diaspora currently send back just under a billion dollars a year, through remittances. Another common theme was that they'd delivered on their electricity promise.

When the President spoke, he didn't disappoint. He is a good speaker and a charismatic individual at that. The ladies in particular seem to love the man. He speech was concise and to the point. My only pet-hate is that Presidents of this country never seem to stand up when they give their speeches. I had watched Kabbah and Berewa do the same thing during the investment forum. I had also seen Koroma do it on December 20. I dislike it. Firstly, you are less visible to most of the people you are addressing and secondly there is no opportunity for non-verbal communication. You should be up there showing folks you are energetic and up for the challenge.. hell, some people will even feed off the energy you emit. Like I said, it's a pet hate.

He spoke about the challenges facing the country and reaffirmed his commitment to the cause.

The response from the Diaspora came from Akie Deen who among other things talked about the airline industry and called for a national airline. Interestingly this prompted Alpha Kanu then declared that the National Airline (SNA) will be reinstated by Easter. Why no one had mentioned this earlier is still a puzzle to me. I also doubt the amount of thought put into that statement before it was made as the SNA saga is an entirely different can of worms.

At the end the President again went round shaking hands with folks and this time I got lucky. I told him I was happy with his plans for tourism in Sierra Leone but I doubt he heard me. There was noise, mostly from women, all clamouring for the hand of the special one.

 

Note: JCs = Just Cam (Sierra Leonean holiday maker, just arrived)
BCs = Blant Cam (Frequent Sierra Leonean holiday maker)
JCs from Kalangbai = (slang, came from a song, I think it refers to wanna be JCs)
Returnees = Members of the Diaspora who have returned home