I hope everyone had a very Merry Christmas this year. Mine was very 'different...'
On Christmas Eve, I had decided to spend the night atop Mena Hill, a decent size peak overlooking Makeni from the West. I did this with Kieran, who arrived only three weeks ago from London to work on a mental health project. I managed to find some pork early in the morning, and it was very fresh (read; still warm). This we took atop the mountain along with several beers, and sleeping bags. We dont have a tent and figured it wasn't needed anyway, its dry season! After a pretty exhausting climb, we watched the town as the light dwindled, then gathered some wood for our fire, which we lit with tinder and sparks (Ray Mears would be proud). We then cooked our pork, drank our beers and feel asleep under the stars.
So we awoke early on Christmas day as the light and heat of the sun intensified rapidly. I remember especially looking down over the whole town that has become my home, as the mist crept away. We made a pretty rapid descent, and headed to my place. One day's hike and one night's camping in Africa had left my sticky, filthy and tired. A cold bucket shower left me clean and woken up, then I was treated to a quite fantastic breakfast of hash browns and French toast courtesy of Natasha and Gearoid.
We then headed to the hospital. Natasha volunteers at the 'Therapeutic Feeding Centre,' which is where malnourished children are treated. It is pretty grim that kids are starving to death here. The land is fertile, food is not in short supply, yet here are many kids going without. I'll refrain from too much detail but some of them are in a very bad way. Natasha had arranged to work on Christmas day, to try to give the kids some kind of treat, and I decided, like many others, to join her.
I'd like to say that I was a great help but to be honest I was just carrying equipment that they needed and helping to eventually set up a big screen and projector so they could watch some Tom and Jerry cartoons. The kids seemed to appreciate the effort, I think many of them enjoyed watching all the white people carrying things more than the cartoons!
We then went to the doctor's house to prepare a Christmas Dinner. It seems that all the expats in Makeni showed up, there were eleven of us in total. My job was to prepare the chicken. Score! So I barbequed the Christmas poultry whilst others prepared Garlic Bread, plantains, salad, and curried rice. Gearoid made his awesome roast potatoes. It actually felt like Christmas once we all sat around the garden table to eat, with lights draped over trees.
Boxing Day meant an early rise; a 7am kick off for Megbente FC in a friendly. We beat the team from Freetown 5-0 and then wasted the day lying around reading books.
The next day was eventful. I was drawing water from the well when Gearoid told me to go and look outside of the wall. I saw a bunch of kids laughing and carrying on. Then I looked closer. I was absolutely horrified. There was a dog, with its hind legs tied together with rope. On the other side of the rope, a 12 year old boy was dragging the dog down the road. The other children were beating the dog, kicking him, throwing rocks at him and smashing a water barrel into his skull. I had a moment of hesitation (not my dog, not my culture...) but I decided I couldn't let this happen on my doorstep and do nothing.
I approached the kids and told them to stop. I asked them what was going on. They said that they were going to kill the dog. When I asked why, they just kept saying that he was a bad dog. I asked if he had bitten anyone. No. It seemed like two kids had started it and others had joined in. There were around 15 kids, some as young as 8. There seemed to be no justification but boredom. Adults passed us and didn't seem to care that a group of kids were beating a dog to death.
I told them I was taking the dog, and started to cut the rope on his leg. He tried to bite me, but thankfully, didn't break the skin. Gearoid helped me chase some of the kids away, then we put the dog on a towel and took him into our compound.
He was in a bad way. Unable to walk, bleeding from his nose and mouth, he had wet himself and was finding it hard to breathe. I was going to put him out of his misery. For whatever reason, I hesitated, and we sat with him, gave him some water, and decided to wait until morning.
We called the vet the next day, and spent a lot of money on injections and treatment. I held his mouth open whilst the vest injected some medicine down his throat. Never once after we saved him did the dog try to bite me. He vomited a few times in the day, and we realised that he was in trouble as he was not eating, and more importantly, not drinking. He was still bleeding from his nose.
Almost exactly 24 hours after we saved him, he died. We said very little to each other, and immediately buried him in our garden.
The whole incident was very upsetting. It made me feel helpless. I could not save the dog. I could not make the children realise why I intervened. I could not make them see that abusing an animal is a stepping stone towards abusing a person. There was an eleven year long civil war here and the building blocks of the conflict remain. I'll always remember them laughing, and beating the life out of an animal for no reason. Like child soldiers.
Wednesday, 31 December 2008
Tuesday, 16 December 2008
The Cup Final
Last Saturday I played for Megbente FC in the final of the MCH Cup. Here is the day as I remember it:
3pm: Gearoid and I join our team mates, who have set up a “Camp” at the nearby hospital. The Camp is a meeting place where we come together and prepare for the games. We listen to some Krio pop music and talk tactics. The atmosphere is relaxed.
3.30pm: We change into our shorts and socks, leaving our boots off for now. The camp is our outdoor changing room. The ceremony begins. We take turns to approach the village elder and have oil rubbed on our legs, hand, chest back and face. We then take a small amount of potent smelling liquid and rub that on our limbs.
3.45pm: We rub limes on our legs, and tuck a small piece of cassava leaf into our socks. This will protect us from injury.
4pm: The manager arrives, with new strips in hand. The boys are excited. He hands them out one by one, with a great deal of ceremony. In the absence of my usual number 7 shirt, I opt for the number 14. I am also presented with the captain's armband in the absence of our regular captain. I suspect that this honour is largely due to being one of the two token white men, but I accept it gladly.
4.15pm: We walk to the pitch and warm up. There are huge speakers blaring out crazy music. Children are dancing. A fast talking high pitched male voice occasionally interrupts the music to make announcements. There are around 200 people there to watch the game. We shake hands with the opposition, and prepare to kick off. I am nervous and it is even hotter than usual.
4.30pm: The game kicks off, it is fast paced and we look confident.
4.40pm: The ball spills loose on the edge of our box, I sprint out to clear it as an opponent lines up a shot. I narrowly get there first, but I go down hard on my left knee. I stand up, and feel the blood running down my leg. It is more than a trickle. I must have hit a rock and gashed it open. I try to run it off.
4.42pm: Adrenaline is a wonderful thing, and I start to feel comfortable running. I take advantage of a break in play to feel the wound. The bleeding is slowing. I wipe the blood on my face. The crowd love it, and start to chant my name.
4.50pm: Our star forward, Saio Conteh, scores a great header. The boys celebrate, I run to the sidelines to drink water.
5pm: I make a forward run, and slot Saio through alone with the keeper, he makes no mistake, and we are 2-0 up.
5.13pm: Just before half time, I hit a left foot volley from a corner, which is handballed off the line. Penalty. I am keen to take it. Saio needs one more goal for his hattrick and to be top scorer in the cup. I let him take it. 3-0
5.15pm: Half time. I drink half a litre of water, and stay on my feet, whilst the other boys sit in a circle on the side of the pitch. I wash out my knee with water. The cut is pretty deep, and it is full of dirt and sand. But it is not bleeding and I am running comfortably. I will continue.
5.30pm: The opposition kick off the second half. We win the ball straight from them, and I pass it to fellow midfielder, Tyson. He takes the ball half the length of the pitch, largely unchallenged, and passes the ball into the bottom corner. 4-0.
5.45pm: We give away a silly penalty. 4-1. The clean sheet is gone.
5.50pm: The manager uses his last substitution to replace me. I hand over the captain's armband, take a gentle jog from the pitch, as our supporters chant my name. This is unreal.
5.14pm: In the last minute of the game, the opposition deservedly score again, but it is too little too late. 4-2
5.15pm: The final whistle is blown. The crowd invade the pitch. The music blares out. I try to seek out opponents in the crowd to shake hands, but eventually give in to the high fives, handshakes and hugs that continually come my way from delighted villagers and children.
6.30pm: We take a break from the jubilations to shower and change. Blood stains my jeans within minutes. Suzie, a VSO nurse, cleans up my knee with iodine and dresses it. It hurts now!
7.30pm: We feast like heroes on goat meat and rice. The village can be heard from miles away. They have hired a generator and massive speakers. Krio pop bursts out and commands us to dance. People have set up on the floor wherever there is a space and are selling warm star beer and pega packs (imagine small ice pop packets filled with poor quality gin, or rum).
9pm: It is time for the presentation. The music stops. The village crowd around to see. People love ceremony here. We come forward one by one for our medals. They are very modest. The cup is brought forward, and, as captain, I am urged forward to accept it. I hold up the trophy like I have just won the world cup and the place erupts.
10.30pm: Someone brings me a glass of white wine – and its cold! It has been three months without such a luxury, and I enjoy it. When my cup is empty, it is filled once again with chilled wine; this time, it is red. Any cold drink is a blessing here, and I enjoy it. I begin to dance, and marvel at the clothes people are wearing. Many of the players have opted for white shirts. I have no idea how they manage to keep their clothes so clean, mine are always filthy here! The party is amazing. The moon is full, and spirits are high. Footballers from both teams dance together, old women in traditional dress dance with babies in their arms, children hold my hand everywhere I go, and old men smoke suspicious substances.
1pm: I party way too late, then walk along the highway back towards Makeni. After half an hour, a bike passes on the road and I manage to swing a ride back home. I fall asleep knowing that this day could only have happened to me here.
3pm: Gearoid and I join our team mates, who have set up a “Camp” at the nearby hospital. The Camp is a meeting place where we come together and prepare for the games. We listen to some Krio pop music and talk tactics. The atmosphere is relaxed.
3.30pm: We change into our shorts and socks, leaving our boots off for now. The camp is our outdoor changing room. The ceremony begins. We take turns to approach the village elder and have oil rubbed on our legs, hand, chest back and face. We then take a small amount of potent smelling liquid and rub that on our limbs.
3.45pm: We rub limes on our legs, and tuck a small piece of cassava leaf into our socks. This will protect us from injury.
4pm: The manager arrives, with new strips in hand. The boys are excited. He hands them out one by one, with a great deal of ceremony. In the absence of my usual number 7 shirt, I opt for the number 14. I am also presented with the captain's armband in the absence of our regular captain. I suspect that this honour is largely due to being one of the two token white men, but I accept it gladly.
4.15pm: We walk to the pitch and warm up. There are huge speakers blaring out crazy music. Children are dancing. A fast talking high pitched male voice occasionally interrupts the music to make announcements. There are around 200 people there to watch the game. We shake hands with the opposition, and prepare to kick off. I am nervous and it is even hotter than usual.
4.30pm: The game kicks off, it is fast paced and we look confident.
4.40pm: The ball spills loose on the edge of our box, I sprint out to clear it as an opponent lines up a shot. I narrowly get there first, but I go down hard on my left knee. I stand up, and feel the blood running down my leg. It is more than a trickle. I must have hit a rock and gashed it open. I try to run it off.
4.42pm: Adrenaline is a wonderful thing, and I start to feel comfortable running. I take advantage of a break in play to feel the wound. The bleeding is slowing. I wipe the blood on my face. The crowd love it, and start to chant my name.
4.50pm: Our star forward, Saio Conteh, scores a great header. The boys celebrate, I run to the sidelines to drink water.
5pm: I make a forward run, and slot Saio through alone with the keeper, he makes no mistake, and we are 2-0 up.
5.13pm: Just before half time, I hit a left foot volley from a corner, which is handballed off the line. Penalty. I am keen to take it. Saio needs one more goal for his hattrick and to be top scorer in the cup. I let him take it. 3-0
5.15pm: Half time. I drink half a litre of water, and stay on my feet, whilst the other boys sit in a circle on the side of the pitch. I wash out my knee with water. The cut is pretty deep, and it is full of dirt and sand. But it is not bleeding and I am running comfortably. I will continue.
5.30pm: The opposition kick off the second half. We win the ball straight from them, and I pass it to fellow midfielder, Tyson. He takes the ball half the length of the pitch, largely unchallenged, and passes the ball into the bottom corner. 4-0.
5.45pm: We give away a silly penalty. 4-1. The clean sheet is gone.
5.50pm: The manager uses his last substitution to replace me. I hand over the captain's armband, take a gentle jog from the pitch, as our supporters chant my name. This is unreal.
5.14pm: In the last minute of the game, the opposition deservedly score again, but it is too little too late. 4-2
5.15pm: The final whistle is blown. The crowd invade the pitch. The music blares out. I try to seek out opponents in the crowd to shake hands, but eventually give in to the high fives, handshakes and hugs that continually come my way from delighted villagers and children.
6.30pm: We take a break from the jubilations to shower and change. Blood stains my jeans within minutes. Suzie, a VSO nurse, cleans up my knee with iodine and dresses it. It hurts now!
7.30pm: We feast like heroes on goat meat and rice. The village can be heard from miles away. They have hired a generator and massive speakers. Krio pop bursts out and commands us to dance. People have set up on the floor wherever there is a space and are selling warm star beer and pega packs (imagine small ice pop packets filled with poor quality gin, or rum).
9pm: It is time for the presentation. The music stops. The village crowd around to see. People love ceremony here. We come forward one by one for our medals. They are very modest. The cup is brought forward, and, as captain, I am urged forward to accept it. I hold up the trophy like I have just won the world cup and the place erupts.
10.30pm: Someone brings me a glass of white wine – and its cold! It has been three months without such a luxury, and I enjoy it. When my cup is empty, it is filled once again with chilled wine; this time, it is red. Any cold drink is a blessing here, and I enjoy it. I begin to dance, and marvel at the clothes people are wearing. Many of the players have opted for white shirts. I have no idea how they manage to keep their clothes so clean, mine are always filthy here! The party is amazing. The moon is full, and spirits are high. Footballers from both teams dance together, old women in traditional dress dance with babies in their arms, children hold my hand everywhere I go, and old men smoke suspicious substances.
1pm: I party way too late, then walk along the highway back towards Makeni. After half an hour, a bike passes on the road and I manage to swing a ride back home. I fall asleep knowing that this day could only have happened to me here.
Friday, 12 December 2008
Know your Rights
Things often happen here that leave me confused as to whether I should laugh or cry. In a recent survey that Gearoid conducted for as local NGO, he asked a number of school children the question, “Do you know your rights as a child?” One answer will stick with me forever. It was, “Yes, I have the right to sweep, and the right to be punished.”
I seriously considered going home early, and cutting my losses, but things like that remind me of why I came here and renew my motivation to get things done. There is a reminder of some sort every day, so here I will remain and focus on making an impact.
After hefty delay and much ado, I was able to sit around a table with my VSO programme manager and the Deputy Mayor this week. I was expecting to have a heated argument, but the council seemed to be genuinely accepting of my reasons for leaving, and they appealed to me at length to change my mind, promising to take action to rectify the issues. This would involve firing a number of staff. After several hours of persuasion, I have agreed to wait another couple of weeks so that I can meet with the Mayor when he returns from Europe. When that happens (sometime between Christmas and New Year) we will discuss a way forward for the council, and a possible return to work for me. It seems I have more power than I had first realised.
Meanwhile, I am working for the college and finding myself with more free time than I would really like. My mind has wondered with several ideas of how to help people on an individual level. I know some very decent, intelligent, hard working people, who are stifled by lack of opportunity and intense poverty. People who I consider friends, and who I want to help because they never ask for it. I am going to start putting these ideas into action, so stay tuned.
I seriously considered going home early, and cutting my losses, but things like that remind me of why I came here and renew my motivation to get things done. There is a reminder of some sort every day, so here I will remain and focus on making an impact.
After hefty delay and much ado, I was able to sit around a table with my VSO programme manager and the Deputy Mayor this week. I was expecting to have a heated argument, but the council seemed to be genuinely accepting of my reasons for leaving, and they appealed to me at length to change my mind, promising to take action to rectify the issues. This would involve firing a number of staff. After several hours of persuasion, I have agreed to wait another couple of weeks so that I can meet with the Mayor when he returns from Europe. When that happens (sometime between Christmas and New Year) we will discuss a way forward for the council, and a possible return to work for me. It seems I have more power than I had first realised.
Meanwhile, I am working for the college and finding myself with more free time than I would really like. My mind has wondered with several ideas of how to help people on an individual level. I know some very decent, intelligent, hard working people, who are stifled by lack of opportunity and intense poverty. People who I consider friends, and who I want to help because they never ask for it. I am going to start putting these ideas into action, so stay tuned.
Monday, 1 December 2008
Big News
So, I quit my job.
I promised myself when I came here that I would stand by my principles and Makeni City Council has left me little option. I don't want to say much about why – this country has had more than its fair share of bad publicity in recent years, and I still want to be a part of its (hopefully positive) future.
So I find myself without a job in Sierra Leone. I don't plan on coming home just yet. VSO are not happy. They are coming to Makeni for a crisis meeting on Monday 8th. But I have a plan.
Father Joe has offered me a role as Project and Development Officer at Fatima. I have arranged to spend this week at the Fatima Institute, working voluntarily on some funding proposals and small scale projects. If that works out then I will be talking to VSO to try to transfer my placement. I have a good feeling, the projects look realistic and interesting, and I would be working under a very able and supportive boss. I would even have electricity at work (between 9am and 1pm at least)!
So that is the state of play. I am hopeful that VSO will transfer the placement, when they hear me out next Monday I'm sure they'll understand why I quit, and they have had volunteers working at Fatima in the past.
So I have a week of waiting. I will be playing in two league matches this week for Megbente, and I'll probably continue the prolific amount of reading and writing I have been doing lately whilst I wait for the resolution of my future here in West Africa. Watch this space!
I promised myself when I came here that I would stand by my principles and Makeni City Council has left me little option. I don't want to say much about why – this country has had more than its fair share of bad publicity in recent years, and I still want to be a part of its (hopefully positive) future.
So I find myself without a job in Sierra Leone. I don't plan on coming home just yet. VSO are not happy. They are coming to Makeni for a crisis meeting on Monday 8th. But I have a plan.
Father Joe has offered me a role as Project and Development Officer at Fatima. I have arranged to spend this week at the Fatima Institute, working voluntarily on some funding proposals and small scale projects. If that works out then I will be talking to VSO to try to transfer my placement. I have a good feeling, the projects look realistic and interesting, and I would be working under a very able and supportive boss. I would even have electricity at work (between 9am and 1pm at least)!
So that is the state of play. I am hopeful that VSO will transfer the placement, when they hear me out next Monday I'm sure they'll understand why I quit, and they have had volunteers working at Fatima in the past.
So I have a week of waiting. I will be playing in two league matches this week for Megbente, and I'll probably continue the prolific amount of reading and writing I have been doing lately whilst I wait for the resolution of my future here in West Africa. Watch this space!
Wednesday, 19 November 2008
Bunce Island
So life continues here in Makeni along with all of its joys and pains, jubilations and frustrations. I have been soldiering on as per usual, finding life easy and work difficult. I have an additional housemate, as Gearoid's girlfriend Natasha has made the long journey from the states to be with him this year.
I managed to take an escape from the town last week to go on a day trip. Father Joe from the Fatima Institute has been very kind to me, and he heaped yet more generosity in my direction through providing a vehicle and driver for myself, Gearoid and Natasha to go to Bunce Island.
My friend Kari made a video of her trip to Bunce, you can see Father Joe Turay here at Bunce Island only a week earlier:
http://www.jhr.ca/fieldnotes/view.php?aid=1448
It is a place that was used to house slaves before they were shipped to the new world in America. A World Heritage Site, despite its utter neglect and inaccessibility (if we did not have our own vehicle it is unlikely we would ever have got there), it is a harrowing and interesting place. The old fort is in ruins, though still intact are signs of that once was: a deep well, an oven that was used to heat pokers to brand the slaves, a prison-like sleeping quarters, and a graveyard for the “masters” who died. We hired guides from the nearest inhabited village, and they proved to be very knowledgeable, and their tree climbing antics and good humour took the edge off the experience.
We have now also officially joined a football team. After training with a number of teams, we took the decision to play for Megbente village. It is a poor village on the outskirts of town, who play on a downhill overgrown pitch bordered by the hills, with felled-tree goalposts. It is a dangerous yet beautiful pitch. We had our full debuts this week, playing against rival village Mathinka, and coming out narrow 3-2 victors.
It is hard to do justice to how amazing it is to play in this environment. There is singing and dancing before the game. There are huge speakers on the side of the pitch which blare out Krio-pop every time there is a goal and at half time. There are hundreds of spectators who all somehow know my name and go crazy when a goal is scored. There is a pitch invasion at full time. Its is a real privilege to be part of the team, and I am already looking forward to next weekend's game in far away Magbroka.
I managed to take an escape from the town last week to go on a day trip. Father Joe from the Fatima Institute has been very kind to me, and he heaped yet more generosity in my direction through providing a vehicle and driver for myself, Gearoid and Natasha to go to Bunce Island.
My friend Kari made a video of her trip to Bunce, you can see Father Joe Turay here at Bunce Island only a week earlier:
http://www.jhr.ca/fieldnotes/view.php?aid=1448
It is a place that was used to house slaves before they were shipped to the new world in America. A World Heritage Site, despite its utter neglect and inaccessibility (if we did not have our own vehicle it is unlikely we would ever have got there), it is a harrowing and interesting place. The old fort is in ruins, though still intact are signs of that once was: a deep well, an oven that was used to heat pokers to brand the slaves, a prison-like sleeping quarters, and a graveyard for the “masters” who died. We hired guides from the nearest inhabited village, and they proved to be very knowledgeable, and their tree climbing antics and good humour took the edge off the experience.
We have now also officially joined a football team. After training with a number of teams, we took the decision to play for Megbente village. It is a poor village on the outskirts of town, who play on a downhill overgrown pitch bordered by the hills, with felled-tree goalposts. It is a dangerous yet beautiful pitch. We had our full debuts this week, playing against rival village Mathinka, and coming out narrow 3-2 victors.
It is hard to do justice to how amazing it is to play in this environment. There is singing and dancing before the game. There are huge speakers on the side of the pitch which blare out Krio-pop every time there is a goal and at half time. There are hundreds of spectators who all somehow know my name and go crazy when a goal is scored. There is a pitch invasion at full time. Its is a real privilege to be part of the team, and I am already looking forward to next weekend's game in far away Magbroka.
Saturday, 8 November 2008
Obama Obama!
What a week!
Lets start with my trip to Freetown. I got up before sunrise, threw on some clothes and left the house. I got lucky and managed to flag down an okada (motorbike taxi) at that early hour, which saved me the half hour walk to the highway. Once there, I bargained with a driver for passage to Freetown (we settled on 12,000 Leones, or £2.50 for the three hour journey). I travelled down in a “poda-poda” which is essentially an old minibus crammed full with as many people as possible. A hot and sweaty experience, but not so bad in the grand scheme of things.
I had a pretty productive meeting with the solar energy NGO, and it looks like I will be able to pull a proposal together, but it will be really expensive (I suspect that we will be courting some European donors). I then headed out to meet the friends I made in Freetown, and eat some varied food, which was a godsend after the monotony of available meals in Makeni. We then hit the town, where a few expats had made the effort for Halloween, and I mad the most of the nightlife, getting no sleep whatsoever.
I had been invited down to Lakka the previous day by Chris, a VSO volunteer who lives there. It is a beautiful beach about 40 minutes South of Freetown. I managed to get there for free hitching in the back of a pickup truck, and I had a great time just relaxing, swimming, and eating freshly caught Barracuda. Chris has an amazing place on the beach, complete with running water and electricity. I think he got lucky with his placement! I got very lucky in Lakka – I ran into someone I know from Makeni, and they were heading back that day, so I managed to get a ride all the way back, which saved me from the poda-poda.
Back in Makeni, I had a regular Monday before heading to the Apex hotel to watch the Newcastle v Villa game (which was great!) and whilst at the hotel, I recognised a large bearded man as Mick Foley, a WWE wrestling legend. I introduced myself to Mick, and learned that he was in Sierra Leone as he was funding a school near Makeni. He was a really nice guy, and he invited me back to the hotel to watch the US election coverage the following night.
The hotel was full of local people, who were Obama crazy. People had T-shirts and badges, I cannot do justice to how excited people in Africa are about a black President in the USA. We settled in by the pool bar with a few beers and watched people leave as the early hours arrived.
When Obama was announced as the winner, the celebrations were great. Looking back, there was nothing strange at the time of staying up until 5.30am in Sierra Leone watching CNN, high fiving a pro-wrester whilst a security guard waved his machine gun with glee, a reporter held a dictaphone to the TV to record the speech, and the barman chanted “Obama! Obama!” over and over.
The next night, I had arranged to take Mick Foley and his entourage out for local food, as they had so far only eaten in the hotel (where I have never eaten as it is way out of my price range). He kindly picked up the whole bill, which cost less than £15 for 11 people, much to his surprise. He is a really nice guy. He seemed humbled that we were spending a year here trying to help, whereas he only spent 6 days in country. I have to disagree. This country needs investment. He has made more of a difference in those 6 days than I can ever hope to make in a whole year.
Lets start with my trip to Freetown. I got up before sunrise, threw on some clothes and left the house. I got lucky and managed to flag down an okada (motorbike taxi) at that early hour, which saved me the half hour walk to the highway. Once there, I bargained with a driver for passage to Freetown (we settled on 12,000 Leones, or £2.50 for the three hour journey). I travelled down in a “poda-poda” which is essentially an old minibus crammed full with as many people as possible. A hot and sweaty experience, but not so bad in the grand scheme of things.
I had a pretty productive meeting with the solar energy NGO, and it looks like I will be able to pull a proposal together, but it will be really expensive (I suspect that we will be courting some European donors). I then headed out to meet the friends I made in Freetown, and eat some varied food, which was a godsend after the monotony of available meals in Makeni. We then hit the town, where a few expats had made the effort for Halloween, and I mad the most of the nightlife, getting no sleep whatsoever.
I had been invited down to Lakka the previous day by Chris, a VSO volunteer who lives there. It is a beautiful beach about 40 minutes South of Freetown. I managed to get there for free hitching in the back of a pickup truck, and I had a great time just relaxing, swimming, and eating freshly caught Barracuda. Chris has an amazing place on the beach, complete with running water and electricity. I think he got lucky with his placement! I got very lucky in Lakka – I ran into someone I know from Makeni, and they were heading back that day, so I managed to get a ride all the way back, which saved me from the poda-poda.
Back in Makeni, I had a regular Monday before heading to the Apex hotel to watch the Newcastle v Villa game (which was great!) and whilst at the hotel, I recognised a large bearded man as Mick Foley, a WWE wrestling legend. I introduced myself to Mick, and learned that he was in Sierra Leone as he was funding a school near Makeni. He was a really nice guy, and he invited me back to the hotel to watch the US election coverage the following night.
The hotel was full of local people, who were Obama crazy. People had T-shirts and badges, I cannot do justice to how excited people in Africa are about a black President in the USA. We settled in by the pool bar with a few beers and watched people leave as the early hours arrived.
When Obama was announced as the winner, the celebrations were great. Looking back, there was nothing strange at the time of staying up until 5.30am in Sierra Leone watching CNN, high fiving a pro-wrester whilst a security guard waved his machine gun with glee, a reporter held a dictaphone to the TV to record the speech, and the barman chanted “Obama! Obama!” over and over.
The next night, I had arranged to take Mick Foley and his entourage out for local food, as they had so far only eaten in the hotel (where I have never eaten as it is way out of my price range). He kindly picked up the whole bill, which cost less than £15 for 11 people, much to his surprise. He is a really nice guy. He seemed humbled that we were spending a year here trying to help, whereas he only spent 6 days in country. I have to disagree. This country needs investment. He has made more of a difference in those 6 days than I can ever hope to make in a whole year.
Thursday, 30 October 2008
In the news this week...
Things have been getting steadily better at work, I wrote two funding proposals to try and bring in money for IT equipment for the council (lets hope they get a generator up and running) and to buy 300 motorbike helmets to give to the Okada (motorbike taxi) drivers. The Mayor seemed to be impressed, which means that I may have more time to work on these kind of projects, which is the reason I came here.
I am off to Freetown tomorrow to meet with an energy company to start a proposal for solar street lighting in Makeni. It will be ambitious, and very expensive, I wont know until after the meeting if it is worth producing a full proposal.
In other news this week I found a pretty damn big spider in my room, which I despatched with bug spray and a hiking boot (sorry nature lovers, it was him or me). I found out something really bad about a guy at work (cant say too much here). I sincerely hope that he gets his comeuppance. I was invited to Sunday lunch with two nuns who also lecture at the Fatima Institute, and it was lovely. They have an oven, so went all out and even baked a cake. They were really interesting people too, they have been in West Africa for about 30 years, and were in Sierra Leone during the conflict. They told me their story of fleeing across the border to Guinea hiding underneath tarp in a canoe. Scary stuff.
Thanks for the comments as ever guys. Mr Crake; it was my pleasure, sorry I couldn't be there in person. To answer Mr Lindsay, I suppose people react in different ways to this environment; some people will turn to religion, others (like me) will view it as further evidence that there can be no God. Its interesting to say that to anyone here though. Most people are Muslim or Christian, are very tolerant of each other, but have no concept of atheism. They find me very strange! Although I have the Christians to thank for my house, the lecturing job, my internet access and last week's Sunday lunch, so they may well be on to something...
I am off to Freetown tomorrow to meet with an energy company to start a proposal for solar street lighting in Makeni. It will be ambitious, and very expensive, I wont know until after the meeting if it is worth producing a full proposal.
In other news this week I found a pretty damn big spider in my room, which I despatched with bug spray and a hiking boot (sorry nature lovers, it was him or me). I found out something really bad about a guy at work (cant say too much here). I sincerely hope that he gets his comeuppance. I was invited to Sunday lunch with two nuns who also lecture at the Fatima Institute, and it was lovely. They have an oven, so went all out and even baked a cake. They were really interesting people too, they have been in West Africa for about 30 years, and were in Sierra Leone during the conflict. They told me their story of fleeing across the border to Guinea hiding underneath tarp in a canoe. Scary stuff.
Thanks for the comments as ever guys. Mr Crake; it was my pleasure, sorry I couldn't be there in person. To answer Mr Lindsay, I suppose people react in different ways to this environment; some people will turn to religion, others (like me) will view it as further evidence that there can be no God. Its interesting to say that to anyone here though. Most people are Muslim or Christian, are very tolerant of each other, but have no concept of atheism. They find me very strange! Although I have the Christians to thank for my house, the lecturing job, my internet access and last week's Sunday lunch, so they may well be on to something...
Wednesday, 22 October 2008
Football, pets and corruption
Its strange how people settle into a routine; life here is quickly becoming like Groundhog Day. Every weekday morning I rise at around 6.30, and go for a run or game of football. I then head to the Fatima Institute, as I can charge my laptop there and they occasionally have internet. I work from there, before heading to Checkpoint, one of the very few restaurants here, and eat one of the three dishes on the menu (Groundnut Soup with rice, Cassava Leaves with rice, or jolof rice).
I then head into the office for the afternoon. I work in the Town Hall, which is a strange building with a turbulent recent history. It was occupied by the rebels during the war, and was the venue of the Truth and Reconciliation hearings after the war. I don't like the place, but soon we will be moving – we might even have a generator so we can make use of the luxury of electricity!
After work I head home, feed the kitten (she is only about five weeks old, we look after her in hope that she will kill rats/cockroaches/snakes etc when she grows up). I then light the coalpot, Gearoid and I cook, eat, wash up, collect water from the well, and read until bedtime (which is usually pretty early)
Lately we have managed to get involved in some serious football, we played in a training match for the Sierra Leone Army against the Wuzum Stars, which was awesome. We played the first half only, and I was glad because those lads are super fit and the heat was killing me!
So life is good, but there are always things that bring you down here. I knew that working in Sierra Leone was always going to be frustrating and challenging, but there are times here when I just want to scream. In the last week alone I turned up to give a lecture but no students showed up, someone offered me a bribe, and my friend Rabia had her house burgled whilst she was at my place eating dinner. I suspect that dealing with such issues over the course of the year will define how much I get out of this whole experience.
I then head into the office for the afternoon. I work in the Town Hall, which is a strange building with a turbulent recent history. It was occupied by the rebels during the war, and was the venue of the Truth and Reconciliation hearings after the war. I don't like the place, but soon we will be moving – we might even have a generator so we can make use of the luxury of electricity!
After work I head home, feed the kitten (she is only about five weeks old, we look after her in hope that she will kill rats/cockroaches/snakes etc when she grows up). I then light the coalpot, Gearoid and I cook, eat, wash up, collect water from the well, and read until bedtime (which is usually pretty early)
Lately we have managed to get involved in some serious football, we played in a training match for the Sierra Leone Army against the Wuzum Stars, which was awesome. We played the first half only, and I was glad because those lads are super fit and the heat was killing me!
So life is good, but there are always things that bring you down here. I knew that working in Sierra Leone was always going to be frustrating and challenging, but there are times here when I just want to scream. In the last week alone I turned up to give a lecture but no students showed up, someone offered me a bribe, and my friend Rabia had her house burgled whilst she was at my place eating dinner. I suspect that dealing with such issues over the course of the year will define how much I get out of this whole experience.
Monday, 13 October 2008
Taking the Initiative
After a few days of despair and longing to be back in Freetown, I decided to try to make things happen for myself. I had met a few people during my first weekend in town, including Gearoid, an Irishman who has lived in the USA for half his life and is in Sierra Leone to gather evidence for his PhD. It turned out that he had a spare room and was happy to share the house with yours truly, so I set about arranging to rent the room. The house is owned by the Fatima Institute, a college run by the Catholic Church. Another friend arranged for me to meet with Father Joe, the charismatic African priest who is in charge of Fatima. We eventually agreed that I could live in the house with Gearoid until January, although I had to bargain. The house is only for people with an association to Fatima, so, to cut a long story short, I am now a lecturer at the Fatima Institute!
I will do two lectures a week on communication skills, focusing on public speaking, and writing. I am very nervous about it all (I start this week!) but I am assured that I am educated to a higher standard than most people in this country and they are confident that I can do it. At least the kids really seem to want to learn; the few who are lucky enough to be educated to college level take it very seriously.
Anyway, the house is amazing! We have a compound with a guard so its safe. We have our own well for water (a little bit creepy, like in The Ring) and an outdoor kitchen. My room is a decent size and the house is clean and cosy. It is near the only good standard hotel in town, Apex, which had a swimming pool, nightclub (nothing too exciting) and even an internet café. Even better is the full size football pitch right behind the house, which happens to be where the Wuzum Stars train. They are Makeni's professional team, and we went down to watch them on my first night in the house, before joining a game with some other local boys. I managed to score the only goal of the game and I have never had a goal celebrated with such vigour! I hope to spend a lot of time down there this year.
My friend Jen came to stay for the weekend and on Saturday we got up early to avoid the heat so we could climb the biggest hill in the area. Wuzum Hill towers over Makeni like a smaller, green version of Table Mountain. We found some local boys at the base who were willing to help guide us up the hill for the small price of 2000 Leones (about 40p) and this proved a wise investment as it is not an easy climb in parts. The view from the top was outstanding, we could see the whole town and the surrounding countryside and it was well worth the climb.
Then on Saturday night Gearoid and I invited people over to enjoy our baked potatoes that we cooked in our “bush oven” (hole in the ground with burning embers, thanks Ray Mears!) with a chilli. It really made me feel at home to be able to have friends around and cook. We then hit the aforementioned Apex nightclub which had a distinct wedding party feel to it for some Star beers and dancing. Most of the music is West African, often in Krio, and it is growing on me fast (perhaps owing to my “adapt or die” mentality).
The job at the council is still proving to be difficult, but I am just trying to settle in by getting to know people, work on my Krio and avoid jumping in too fast (apart from the fact that I have agreed to work two jobs!)
I will do two lectures a week on communication skills, focusing on public speaking, and writing. I am very nervous about it all (I start this week!) but I am assured that I am educated to a higher standard than most people in this country and they are confident that I can do it. At least the kids really seem to want to learn; the few who are lucky enough to be educated to college level take it very seriously.
Anyway, the house is amazing! We have a compound with a guard so its safe. We have our own well for water (a little bit creepy, like in The Ring) and an outdoor kitchen. My room is a decent size and the house is clean and cosy. It is near the only good standard hotel in town, Apex, which had a swimming pool, nightclub (nothing too exciting) and even an internet café. Even better is the full size football pitch right behind the house, which happens to be where the Wuzum Stars train. They are Makeni's professional team, and we went down to watch them on my first night in the house, before joining a game with some other local boys. I managed to score the only goal of the game and I have never had a goal celebrated with such vigour! I hope to spend a lot of time down there this year.
My friend Jen came to stay for the weekend and on Saturday we got up early to avoid the heat so we could climb the biggest hill in the area. Wuzum Hill towers over Makeni like a smaller, green version of Table Mountain. We found some local boys at the base who were willing to help guide us up the hill for the small price of 2000 Leones (about 40p) and this proved a wise investment as it is not an easy climb in parts. The view from the top was outstanding, we could see the whole town and the surrounding countryside and it was well worth the climb.
Then on Saturday night Gearoid and I invited people over to enjoy our baked potatoes that we cooked in our “bush oven” (hole in the ground with burning embers, thanks Ray Mears!) with a chilli. It really made me feel at home to be able to have friends around and cook. We then hit the aforementioned Apex nightclub which had a distinct wedding party feel to it for some Star beers and dancing. Most of the music is West African, often in Krio, and it is growing on me fast (perhaps owing to my “adapt or die” mentality).
The job at the council is still proving to be difficult, but I am just trying to settle in by getting to know people, work on my Krio and avoid jumping in too fast (apart from the fact that I have agreed to work two jobs!)
Tuesday, 7 October 2008
Well, it couldnt all be easy could it?
I thouroughly enjoyed the rest of my time in Freetown and was a little sad to leave all told, after making some great friends and getting to know the city pretty well. I was more excited about seeing Makeni, and getting into my new house... which isn't there!
So it turns out the council have not organised a house for me, which was a condition of the placement. So i have been living in a strange hotel for the past five days. It is a nice enough room, but the hotel itself is always full of rowdy men drinking on the porch, then sleeping in the common areas and corridors by night. I am very disappointed, as the other VSO guys in Makeni have pretty decent digs (some even have generators and running water!)
Well, at least it was going to be exciting to start work... or not. On my first day no-one was there to greet me and I spent the afternoon being driven around town on the back of a motorbike by a man who I suspect was drunk. I have at least met "His Worship, the Major Moses Sesay" who I will be working under, who earlier presented me to a full meeting of the council with great ceremony and adieu. This was a little over the top for my tastes. but people love formalities here, and I had to sit through the four hour meeting to learn that the hard way.
So the job is leading the development planning. This is going to be difficult as I have half a desk and no equipment whatsoever. The council does not even own a map of the town. There is so much to do but I have no idea where to start. They also want me to do a lot of fundraising. I am going to sit back and build some informal bridges before I make everyone else look bad by being too pro-active. The main focus of my work this week is finding myself a place to live, as they have not done it.
So, rant over.
The town itself is really nice. Surrounded by beautiful green hills, always hot, and home to some very friendly people. Everywhere I go, children shout "OPPORTO!" (The Temne word for "White Man"), but it is done in a very affectionate and friendly manner. The only way to get around town is by motorbike. Soon, I will probably have my own bike, but until then, all I have to do is go outside and shout "BIKE" and a bike taxi will coem out of nowhere to pick me up. There are a few other VSOs and NGO workers in town and I have settled nicely into the social circle.
So, I think once I have settled more into the job and have a place to live, I will be happy here. Until then, I am off to one of the three eateries in town for some cassava leaves with rice washed down with a Star beer.
So it turns out the council have not organised a house for me, which was a condition of the placement. So i have been living in a strange hotel for the past five days. It is a nice enough room, but the hotel itself is always full of rowdy men drinking on the porch, then sleeping in the common areas and corridors by night. I am very disappointed, as the other VSO guys in Makeni have pretty decent digs (some even have generators and running water!)
Well, at least it was going to be exciting to start work... or not. On my first day no-one was there to greet me and I spent the afternoon being driven around town on the back of a motorbike by a man who I suspect was drunk. I have at least met "His Worship, the Major Moses Sesay" who I will be working under, who earlier presented me to a full meeting of the council with great ceremony and adieu. This was a little over the top for my tastes. but people love formalities here, and I had to sit through the four hour meeting to learn that the hard way.
So the job is leading the development planning. This is going to be difficult as I have half a desk and no equipment whatsoever. The council does not even own a map of the town. There is so much to do but I have no idea where to start. They also want me to do a lot of fundraising. I am going to sit back and build some informal bridges before I make everyone else look bad by being too pro-active. The main focus of my work this week is finding myself a place to live, as they have not done it.
So, rant over.
The town itself is really nice. Surrounded by beautiful green hills, always hot, and home to some very friendly people. Everywhere I go, children shout "OPPORTO!" (The Temne word for "White Man"), but it is done in a very affectionate and friendly manner. The only way to get around town is by motorbike. Soon, I will probably have my own bike, but until then, all I have to do is go outside and shout "BIKE" and a bike taxi will coem out of nowhere to pick me up. There are a few other VSOs and NGO workers in town and I have settled nicely into the social circle.
So, I think once I have settled more into the job and have a place to live, I will be happy here. Until then, I am off to one of the three eateries in town for some cassava leaves with rice washed down with a Star beer.
Monday, 29 September 2008
Timing is Everything
I am quickly adapting the the slow pace of life here. In Africa you never arrive late, you arrive later. A local guy explained this phenomenon better than I could: “In the UK you are on GMT, here you are on BMT (Black Man Time).”
So the training continues to go well, if a little long. The language classes are good and hopefully useful, though there are not many of them. It gets insanely hot at lunch time and I sometimes find it hard to concentrate on anything other than drinking water.
Freetown is going to be a little hard to leave behind when I go to Makeni. I have made some good friends here already; with other volunteers, some expats and most importantly, local people. The neighbours around the house I am living in are great, I spend ten minutes greeting them everytime I leave or enter the house, and the kids are inquisitive and affectionate. There is a small lad named Ibrahim (4 years old at a guess) who sprints towards me on sight so I can pick him up and carry him. Most of them are very poor and living in makeshift shacks. The good news is I can stay in this house everytime I come to the Capitol which will be often.
One of the lads had his 19th birthday on Saturday night, and they invited Laura and I to a “lollipop party.” Neither of us had an idea of what this entailed, but we were told to buy lots of lollipops and be ready for them to pick us up at about 10pm. Everytime we asked someone what it was all about they just laughed and thought it was hilarious that we didn't know. When the time came we were sitting in the house and we heard the sounds of whistles in the distance looming closer. We went outside to find about twenty young men all blowing on lollipop whistles. They took our hands (people here love physical contact, and its common for two guys to walk around holding hands) and we departed into the night. For the next hour we joined them in walking around the slum areas, blowing our whistles and shouting “LOLLIPOP!” as loud as we could. People would come rushing out of their shacks and we would give them a lollipop each. It was like Halloween in reverse; walking around town giving out sweets. I really enjoyed it, if only for the chance to walk around an area I would never have went near at night, safe in the knowledge that I was the token whiteboy in a Salonean posse.
Life without electricity is proving ok, I struggle more without the running water. It gets a real chore carrying large buckets about and it makes me appreciate how much water we actually use at home. It pays to conserve here, a “bucket shower” can be reused to flush a toilet for example.
I messed up my foot a little bit walking home at night; the combination of no street lights and terrible roads led me my taking a small chunk out of my big toe. I have learned the hard way to take my time!
Which brings us back to time. In some ways I am very settled and I feel like I have been here for ages. I haven't even seen Makeni yet, but I have met a few people who are going home soon and they all pass on the same message; this year is going to fly by!
So the training continues to go well, if a little long. The language classes are good and hopefully useful, though there are not many of them. It gets insanely hot at lunch time and I sometimes find it hard to concentrate on anything other than drinking water.
Freetown is going to be a little hard to leave behind when I go to Makeni. I have made some good friends here already; with other volunteers, some expats and most importantly, local people. The neighbours around the house I am living in are great, I spend ten minutes greeting them everytime I leave or enter the house, and the kids are inquisitive and affectionate. There is a small lad named Ibrahim (4 years old at a guess) who sprints towards me on sight so I can pick him up and carry him. Most of them are very poor and living in makeshift shacks. The good news is I can stay in this house everytime I come to the Capitol which will be often.
One of the lads had his 19th birthday on Saturday night, and they invited Laura and I to a “lollipop party.” Neither of us had an idea of what this entailed, but we were told to buy lots of lollipops and be ready for them to pick us up at about 10pm. Everytime we asked someone what it was all about they just laughed and thought it was hilarious that we didn't know. When the time came we were sitting in the house and we heard the sounds of whistles in the distance looming closer. We went outside to find about twenty young men all blowing on lollipop whistles. They took our hands (people here love physical contact, and its common for two guys to walk around holding hands) and we departed into the night. For the next hour we joined them in walking around the slum areas, blowing our whistles and shouting “LOLLIPOP!” as loud as we could. People would come rushing out of their shacks and we would give them a lollipop each. It was like Halloween in reverse; walking around town giving out sweets. I really enjoyed it, if only for the chance to walk around an area I would never have went near at night, safe in the knowledge that I was the token whiteboy in a Salonean posse.
Life without electricity is proving ok, I struggle more without the running water. It gets a real chore carrying large buckets about and it makes me appreciate how much water we actually use at home. It pays to conserve here, a “bucket shower” can be reused to flush a toilet for example.
I messed up my foot a little bit walking home at night; the combination of no street lights and terrible roads led me my taking a small chunk out of my big toe. I have learned the hard way to take my time!
Which brings us back to time. In some ways I am very settled and I feel like I have been here for ages. I haven't even seen Makeni yet, but I have met a few people who are going home soon and they all pass on the same message; this year is going to fly by!
Monday, 22 September 2008
I have arrived!
Some people say that its not where you are going that counts, but how you get there. If the journey from Newcastle to Freetown is indicative of my time here, its going to be an interesting year. After a standard flight to Heathrow, the African experience began on the flight from there to Sierra Leone. The flight was full of Africans jostling for space for vast amounts of hand luggage, and the flight eventually left an hour late with me in whatever seat I could find (no hope of sitting in my booked seat!).
Then came the pandemonium of Lungi Airport. The six VSO volunteers (two dropped out at the last minute) were met by two very friendly police officers who seemed keen to rush us through customs. Our passports went missing so I went to see what was happening and was taken to a stern looking guy in full African regalia, who I can only presume was a tribal chief. He asked me in a booming voice, “What is your mission?” I answered this and several similar questions with a mixture of VSO propaganda and whatever I could think to add. It seemed to work; he smiled briefly and returned our passports.
We were then supposed to get a ferry or hovercraft across to Freetown, but both were not running. That meant a choice of staying overnight in the airport or getting a helicopter to the city – an easy choice! The ride was great, although the view was not as there are very few lights in the city so it was hard to see what was below. We were then picked up in 4x4s and taken to our temporary accommodation in Freetown.
I find myself living in the house of a volunteer who has already been here for a year, which has been a great help. Laura speaks fluent Krio and has shown us the ropes of getting around the city. Ailsing is another newbie who will be living with Laura permanently, so I am the de facto man of the house. The place itself is great, despite the lack of electricity and running water. My room is clean, welcoming and had a king size bed – much better than expected!
So we have pretty much had two days off, so we have explored the city a little, and checked out the beaches, which are stunning. On Saturday night, we went out for a meal and a few beers, which ended in us leaving Paddy's nightclub at 4.30am after some highly energetic dancing. On Sunday we managed to find a little shack with two TVs packed full of rowdy young men watching Manchester United battle out a 1-1 draw with Chelsea. A quality match day experience. I must admit, I am pleasantly surprised by Freetown. Although it is very hot, some of the roads are poor and it is pretty dirty, the people are so friendly and there is a great vibe. I feel really safe and I have already made some good friends with local people and other volunteers.
So all is well, I think I will be happy here during my training, although I will have to wait ten days before I see my new home in Makeni.
I am having trouble uploading photos so I'll try again next time!
Saturday, 16 August 2008
Ready to go...
Yes, its true, I have been accepted on a one year overseas placement in Sierra Leone with VSO (http://www.vso.org.uk/)! I will hopefully keep this blog updated with adventures over the next year as I find my feet in a new culture and a new job!
I'll start by explaining a little more about the job and the country.
I'll start by explaining a little more about the job and the country.
My role will be working for the Town Council in Makeni. The town is home to over 100,000 people, and like the rest of the country it is still feeling the effects of the civil war that ended in 2001. I will be living with no running water or electricity, so I expect daily life to be a challenge in itself.
The role I am undertaking is Project Planner and Designer, and the main emphasis on the role is leading the development planning for the council through participatory work with the people of the town. (So not much then!) It is a fantastic career move for me and I cant wait to get stuck in.
The role I am undertaking is Project Planner and Designer, and the main emphasis on the role is leading the development planning for the council through participatory work with the people of the town. (So not much then!) It is a fantastic career move for me and I cant wait to get stuck in.
Sierra Leone
So what better place than Sierra Leone? The country is ranked rock bottom of the human development index compiled by the UN (http://hdr.undp.org/en/statistics/). It is starting to show signs of recovery, and with the war long over, I am confident that I can stay safe and healthy whilst I am there.
I recently met another VSO volunteer, Rabia, who will be working in Makeni with me, and she sent me an email about Sierra Leone, which really makes me question my motives! Here it is:
The poorest country (in the world) is Sierra Leone, a west
African nation about half the size of Illinois that has been marred by violent civil wars, sexual slavery, torture including disfigurement and amputation, conscripting child soldiers - and even cannibalism.
The United Nations names Sierra Leone as the world's “least livable” country, based on its poverty and the poor quality of life that its citizens must endure.
In 2004, Sierra Leone's trade deficit totalled some $350 million, with $185 million of exports (diamonds, rutile, cocoa, coffee, fish) easily surpassed by $531 million that Sierra Leone paid for imports (foodstuffs, machinery and equipment, fuels and lubricants, chemicals).
So Sierra Leone assumes the dubious honour of world's most miserable country to live in.
I recently met another VSO volunteer, Rabia, who will be working in Makeni with me, and she sent me an email about Sierra Leone, which really makes me question my motives! Here it is:
The poorest country (in the world) is Sierra Leone, a west
African nation about half the size of Illinois that has been marred by violent civil wars, sexual slavery, torture including disfigurement and amputation, conscripting child soldiers - and even cannibalism.
The United Nations names Sierra Leone as the world's “least livable” country, based on its poverty and the poor quality of life that its citizens must endure.
In 2004, Sierra Leone's trade deficit totalled some $350 million, with $185 million of exports (diamonds, rutile, cocoa, coffee, fish) easily surpassed by $531 million that Sierra Leone paid for imports (foodstuffs, machinery and equipment, fuels and lubricants, chemicals).
So Sierra Leone assumes the dubious honour of world's most miserable country to live in.
Bring it on! I am looking forward to swapping Newcastle for Makeni, and really hope that I make a difference, in however small a way.
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