THE GATES WERE CLOSING AT THE POLLING STATION SET UP AT WATERSIDE, BUT WE MANAGED TO SKILFULLY FIND OUR WAY IN. It was still light, but the sun was gently setting in Liberia. We took a few steps and came across two tables either side of a dirt track. The plastic urns, escorted by many…
ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF MONROVIA, LIBERIA. IN THE MIDDLE OF DEPRIVATION AND AN IMMORTAL ENERGY, we get out the Toyotas Prado and make our way to a crumbling school that was hosting several scattered polling stations. It seemed as if the whole neighbourhood had already voted at these tables because the rooms were practically empty;…
Ingrid still had not recovered and she was lying down, her body paralysed into a triangular shape and submerged in a deep dream or horrible nightmare. It was time for lunch and we had to leave the lush green of Bomi behind. We parked our vehicles near a ‘border’ post, i.e. one of those thin…
“THE SWEDES ARE WAITING FOR YOU IN THE PARKING LOT,” said an early morning voice to me in a firm tone. I quickly ran down the stairs and left the building, only to find the Swedish Ambassador to Liberia and his whole team waiting for me in a Toyota Prado. My nose made out a…
WHY AM I SAYING ON EDGE IF EVERYTHING IS CALM IN LIBERIA? IS EVERYTHING CALM IN LIBERIA? Ladies and gentlemen: the moment of truth has arrived. We find ourselves in the decisive final round, the moment many Liberians have been anxiously waiting for: the presidential elections. Everyone has been summoned, to decide the future of…
I HAVE HAD A FEW DRINKS TOO MANY, and shit, now I forgot what I was going to say. Eeerm, basically with today’s post I intend to talk about those who leave Liberia. About those people you meet in this country and that some day or another will disappear into thin air, swish swish. That’s…
AT FIRST I THOUGHT THAT THE BODY THAT LAY THERE MUST BE THAT WOMAN WHO LOVES THE GENERATOR. That woman who usually spends the whole day stuck to the powerful diesel engine that spurts out burnt smoke into her face. And warmth into her soul. Warmth. That woman who almost always ends up fast asleep…
CONSISTENT WITH THE IDEA THAT HUMAN BEINGS ARE ANIMALS who usually have dinner at night, I logically attended the collation at the Korean restaurant at Bushrod Island, Monrovia, in the evening. As you do. I walked up the entrance stairs and joined a group of twelve to fourteen people, speaking with their mouths, looking through their eyes,…
ONE DAY MORE In LIBERIA (ONE DAY LESS…) I am exhausted as I start to write. It’s been a hard day again and the last thing I fancy doing is tapping away at a cold keyboard. So. It’s time to evoke Stevenson and remind myself that not a day went by when the author of…
I GENTLY WALK INTO THE MINISTRY OF LAND, MINES AND ENERGY in Liberia, but nobody sees me. They are all there, but nobody sees me. They are asleep. The secretary, receptionist or whatever she is, is spread across the desk, her forehead against the surface and her arms stretched out, almost reaching out to the tiles…