Before Akon Come Liberia

I still in prison waiting for trial, but let me think back some the important event what happen before I reach the place I at today. For instance 2006; the day I hear say Akon coming Liberia: come see me happy like hell running all up and down looking for another more job to buy ticket. But the thing that happen to me the time I was looking for job for Akon ticket business, eh yah! To find job in Liberia that small thing?

They say Liberian people lazy? That lie! This time Liberian people not lazy o! Soon morning people all on the road trying to catch car. Sometimes 5 o'clock self. To catch car in Monrovia today, that thing self that work. And if you bless you get car; that so-so traffic you coming sit down inside. Then everywhere you look, those pekin them selling. Those yamma yamma boys pack up to Red Light, to ELWA Junction, and all in town. To Broad Street o, Randell Street, Caray Street, Education, Waterside, Across the Bridge, Duala. You go interior self, just stop Ganta – so-so of them rushing to sell you any kind of thing. The thing that fall in their hand, that it they selling. Whole day they passing-passing. They not know which way to go to sell the thing what they carrying.

Market women the same thing. Pack up, pack up. And this time, people not for market. All those market places them that Nancy Doe built, they spoil in the war; the Old Ma rebuild it, but the people not want sit down there. Everybody want sell on the main road for customer business – but I not want talk that one today. Olden days, so-so Mandingo and Fula people selling. This time everybody want sell. You Loma o, you Mano, you Kpelle, you Kru self you selling. Congo people and all want sell, you must know. So I say, let me leave from behind this selling business. Let me look for correct job.

Thank God for Old Ma. At least this time, government job can pay you. No plenty waiting business. But the money can be too small. That time, 2006, one bag of butter rice that 28 dollar US in town, and the pusawar rice what the big-money people them can eat that 60 dollars US – but that one not for me. Then rentage. House money that small thing? Then on top of that they say the good Akon ticket that 100 dollar US. Then I want buy one good-good dokafleh to bluff. Then again, ever since, my ma in Nimba County say I must send her small something from in town. I put the money together I know government job can't make it. I thinking say let me look for one good NGO job.

I pass around, pass around, I see one fine NGO office to UN Drive. I say, let me go inside. I go inside – the place looking too clean. Just like in the American show. Soon I inside I see one black woman, but she talking clear Seree; I not know she from Zaire or what, so I go to her, I say I want job.

She say, "the posted job?"

I answer, "Any job." She looking at me.

She say, "Are you qualified?"

I say "yes."

She say, "How are you qualified?"

I say, "I looking for money."

She say, "No. I meant how many years of education have you had?"

I say, "12."

She say, "Oh! Do you have a high school diploma?"

I say, "No. That six years I spend in first grade, before that, I spend three years in A B C class the time I was in the interior, because they not get no good teacher. So everybody just learning A B C, A B C whole day. Then I now come in town now I getting small money, I able to dash the teacher, I get two double promotion! I finish to the sixth grade.

She looking at me some kind of way, so I thinking let me talk something quick yah. It looking like she too serious over the high school diploma business.

I say, "it leave small I almost finish high school with diploma, only thing I not woman, I man.

She say, "what do you mean?"

I say, "I smart. I know plenty book. I able plenty work. But you know how things are in Liberia. The condition not correct. I was coming be woman, I now finish high school long time self with diploma."

She say, "are you referring to what I think you are referring?"

I say, "I must explain the thing to you? You not see so-so of the woman them in college and university? Not to say all, but plenty of them, how they get there so?"

She say, "I'm thinking outside the box here. Maybe you are the right person for the job – to get through to the people. You understand the mind concept. God knows we need something. I'll have to discuss it with human resources, but first you have to fill out a job application and come for an interview."

I say, "what the job?" and she answer, "the job is as an instructor teaching safety awareness and sex education to indigenous people."

I hold my face straight, I not want laugh. I thinking say the job already for me, but these people real stupid for true. Thank God for that! The thing what every African person know and can do it, that it they want I must teach. How they think we manage to be plenty so? Yeah! Teaching job that good thing. Plenty chopping inside.

So she show me the way, I go look for human resource office. I passing looking, the place looking complete correct. Yeah, the people office fine o. I find the place. I go there I see one white woman. I tell her say, "I come for my job."

She say, "what job?"

I say, "the sex education job – I the instructor. The other black woman that can talk seree sent me, she say the job for me. I must just fill out application and come to interview, but what time I must come collect my money, she not talk that one."

The way this other woman looking at me I know she not want give me the job. She coming block me.

Her face looking too serious she say, "that you shall receive the position is not a foregone conclusion. There is a vetting process and many qualified persons have applied. In fact, we especially recommend qualified persons of the female gender to apply and several have already. However, if you feel that you are qualified, you're welcome to apply as well."

Here I was thinking say the job already for me I know this other woman coming block me. So I say to myself, let me beg her.

I coming talk to her, I say, "you woman I hold foot, I need this job bad way for Akon ticket business. And my ma self, she not get enough food. I not send her mattress. Long time I not send her soap money. She way to Nimba County. Small thing self I not send it. She vex with me like hell. This job that the correct job for me. And I know sex good-good. Ask plenty women in town and all in the bush. Small-small girl them, big-big woman o, all I now pass there."

The woman tie her face and dress back, so I grab her foot to beg her. The woman yell, "Leave my leg that's sexual harassment."

I say, "I just want beg you. That our African way."

The woman hollering, "Security!"

Myself get scare and run away. This time, rape business that not small thing in Monrovia. Soon the Old Ma hear that thing, it true o, it not true o – that the main thing can make her vex. I say let me move from these people before for job business they come put me in jail. Thank God self I not fill out job application, before the people come know what-place to come look for me they send policeman. Let me go find job different place.

How This Blog Began

After writing a short social-romantic story set in a Liberian village my fingers were still inching, so I decided to write another short piece inspired by a real life event that took place in Monrovia, and write it in the style of an amusing satirical resume I had once read on facebook. The short piece that I now considered a short story in its own right only took about an hour write, but the more I reread it, the more I found allegory and morals had seeped into it subconsciously. So I pasted it on my facebook notes and tagged a few family relatives and friends to find out what they thought. The results were quite astounding. A number of people I hadn't tagged commented immediately to my immense satisfaction, but some of the more interesting comments came later in my private inbox. Some people had found the story absolutely hilarious, but at least one person claimed to have been brought to real tears by some emotion it had triggered.

Personally, the short piece generated a complex combination of feelings in me; and I had left the ending of the story open intentionally, with no intention of continuing it. Again to my surprise a large majority of comments from the readers requested a definite ending. I had no clear idea of an ending at the time, and certainly no outline of how it should continue, but I figured what the hell — I'll just use the same character and use him to explore different national events from his perspective and write one story at a time till I had enough to combine in an anthology.

By the time I completed the second story I knew I didn't want to revisit some of the more haunted events of Liberian history, but I did want to explore some of the less savory idiosyncrasies of Liberian culture, and some of the positive ones as well. Contrary to my usually solitary nature, I also knew that I now craved response. Response I was no longer getting on facebook. The reason for this? Your guess is as good as mine, but I have a feeling the reasons are at least threefold: (1) I have never cultivated a broad readership, (2) a longer story would not be quite as interesting — most Liberians are not avid readers, and the colloquial language style made it difficult for non-Liberians — and who want to read a lot of small print of it in facebook? (3) Maybe I was being read but nobody wanted to respond publicly using their real name. Then again, maybe I was just plain annoying.

Whatever the case may be, I decided to continue writing the story as a public blog, and eventually edit and print some of the results in book form. A vague outline emerged in my mind, but I never wrote it down or fleshed it out on paper. Leaving open possibilities for the story to develop helped me to explore both the reality and the fictional material with fresh insight each time I sat down to write.

I decided to evolve the story into an interactive blog. Therefore your opinion counts! I am open to the idea of revising each new posted chapter according to public opinion. By voting on character decisions, you can determine in which direction the next story flows. I don't claim to be bound by democracy, but public pressure counts for something. Everybody is welcome to comment. My only request is to please try to be courteous — at least to one another. If I draw fire, I figure I deserve it, so please feel free to blast at me to your hearts content. None of the stereotypes I reflect are written in stone, and yes, even I make mistakes… sometimes.

The subject matter is not necessarily pleasant and the opinions and stereotypes I present are not necessarily my own; although I have to admit, some of the peculiarities of my thoughts do come out in the various characters voices, including that of Mr. J.d. Kato himself. I do exaggerate a lot. Unfortunately, concerning some issues, the reality on the ground is even more gruesome than the fiction. If you have been in Liberia anytime recently, or even in the past, you can probably often tell the difference. Although, it never fails to amaze me that many people, and surprisingly, even many Liberian people simply can't.

This is probably not a fault. I have had the benefit of studying psychology, sociology and anthropology and have been professionally trained to rapidly assess sub-cultural values for the purpose of analyzing and effecting population control in times of natural disasters and emergencies. Among other things, I am a population officer in what can questionably be considered a humanitarian relief organization. Don't ask.

I hope you enjoy reading my posts at least half as much as I enjoy writing them. It has helped me explore some of my own views. My hope and challenge is that it will help you explore some of your own as well.