St. Paul's Boy's Primary School

Celebration at St. Paul's Primary School in Kenema - 1969

taken in a classroom (English) at St. Paul's Primary School in Kenema. The school uniform was white shirt and khaki shorts. Taken in 1969. Teaching this class was John Koroma. 

Very near our house was the boy's primary school run by the Catholic Mission in Kenema. I knew many of the teachers and also the principal whose name was Teacher Goba.  I knew a number of the teachers including John Koroma, Teacher Amara. I was tutoring John Koroma in Math and in exchange he taught me Mende - or at least tried to.  St. Paul's Primary school was big with probably several hundred boys. The facility itself was adequate in those days - they had a big football field just outside - football being the most popular sport in those days.  (double click on images to enlarge them)

Eating Flying Ants

It may sound odd but ants taste good. Sometime during our first year local schoolboys Momo Vandy, his brother Mansaray Vandy, and Senesi Edward Lahai convinced me to allow them to collect flying ants that were attracted by an outside light that we had on the east side of our house. Kenema electricity was unrelaible in those days. However when the season was right, and the ants were flying, the boys came by at night and collected a few pails full of ants. Their method was simple. The light attracted the flying ants, a pail of water was placed underneath the light, and when ants were in abundance the boys came and dropped them (by hand) into the pail of water. When they had collected enough they then went off and "fried" the ants in a pan. Of course they wanted to see if I was interested in trying them (and I was). They tasted a bit like salted peanuts and weren't bad. I do not think that ants were a common source of nutrition in those days, but the boys seemed to have great fun in collecting them, and enjoyed their taste.

Above photo: Taken on the east side of our house - Senesi Edward Lahai (white shirt) along with his school chums Mansaray and Momo Vandy collect ants attracted by our outside light. Notice the pail at the base of the house. Filled with water, the ants were thrown into this, then brought into our kitchen where after frying them in a pan they were eaten. To me they tasted like salty peanuts.

Blama

view of Blama - December 1968

Peace Corps volunteer Lee Behnke (1967-69) with Blama neighbors - Dec. 1968

Blama was a town about 12 miles from Kenema. Here we knew two Peace Corps Volunteers named Lee and Michael Behnke. They were New Englanders - Lee had gone to the same University as Susan. They were in the Peace Corps group one year ahead of us. Over their last year when we overlapped with them we paid them several visits in Blama. The Behnkes also taught in a Catholic Mission School run by an animated and active priest named Father Inunugu - who was of the Ibo Ethnic Group of Nigeria. He was a little man but his energy was overwhelming and infectious. We spent a number of nights at dinner at his house when the Behnkes left for home. The above picture was taken on one of our trips to visit. The two boys in the picture are unknown - they just happened to be walking up this hill overlooking Blama when I took the picture. In the distance and on the horizon the hills of Kenema (where we lived) can be seen. They were known as the Kambuhii Hills. This picture was probably taken in December 1968. [you can double click on the picture to enlarge it]

The Tragic War

For the most part, when we lived in Sierra Leone, although there was certainly an undercurrent of dissatisfaction with the existing government (most of my area friends were supporters of the Sierra Leone People's Party or SLPP), 1968 - 70 was a relatively peaceful period.  The minor episodes of strife that we observed during this period involved simple weaponry and less anger and hatred. The undercurrent of grumbling that I heard from time to time was not much different than what I had seen at home.  However people tended to be more private about their politics as there was concern that opinions against the current regime might end you up on the "wrong side," and thus in jail.  I do not pretend to have an understanding of how the nearly 10 years of horror fell down upon what had been a happy people and a wonderful country.  Perhaps a combination of severely strained economics, and unhappy and disenchanted youth, and a long simmering political atmosphere were in part a cause.  What is clear is that forces established them selves both inside Sierra Leone and from Liberia that led the horror and charge in an attempt to gain power.  Led by men with some charisma but scary thinking and supported by the selling of diamonds, high end weaponry not before seen in Sierra Leone became commonplace. With the establishment of a War Crimes atmosphere of horror, child soldiers and rape and maiming became military policy and Sierra Leone began a nearly ten year circle of the drain. Those who could ran away from the conflict to refugee camps in nearby Liberia, or Guinea (or elsewhere).  A huge number of Sierra Leoneans came to the UK or to Canada or the US (or elsewhere) in this Diaspora of Sierra Leone's best and brightest leaving their motherland to establish roots and safety elsewhere. In 1968 there was no such population in the States. By the 1990's Sierra Leoneans were a substantial addition to America. At home those who could not leave,  or were not so lucky had to put up with the horrors driven by a megalomania and a policy that left many dead, others maimed forever, and still others scarred mentally for life. For these ten years terror roamed every niche - no one and no area was safe.  The sad hell that existed is incomprehensible for most of us but a nightmare for those who lived it. For ten years a generation had no school. For ten years a country stood on the brink of annihilation. This once "jewel of West Africa" sank to a level of despair and depravity that was unimaginable.  But somehow this chaos came to an end as support came from outside  and the mindset that had made Sierra Leone so bleak seemed to die. Now there is a well-established peace. Sierra Leone attempts to analyse what has happened and deal lawfully with the many War Crimes.  Recovery is on the horizon. Its many people permanently harmed by the War go on as Sierra Leonenans always have, with some hope in a future, and with a hope and prayer that the world will help with the support of this small country equipped with keen minds but lacking the money to go forward.   

Mama Mabinty

Mama Mabinty was a local artisan. Across the road from us and behind her house she crafted wax prints on the European imported cloth.  In this photo she is showing the process while a student of ours named Aminata Lahai is helping out.  Mama Mabinty was both Mende and Susu and was Aminata's aunt. Taken in 1969. In the back is also a Teacher's Training student of ours named Cecilia Jah. - double click on image to enlarge it - 

Cows on the Road

The above photos were taken on Dama Road near the turn off to the village of Foindu Nongowa and about 3 or 4 miles from where we lived. In it,  Fula herdsmen guide their cattle along the road on their way to Kenema. These cattle most likely belonged to Pa Maju Bah (I have referred to him in a number of prior postings).  The latterite roads were close in color to what is seen here. In our area it was the Fula who had and cared for cattle. I was never aware of the Mende taking care of cattle. In the north of Sierra Leone there were other groups that kept cattle. This photo was taken in 1969-70.  [double click on image to enlarge]

Kabala to Kurobonla Road - and an illegal Smuggling side tour to Guinea

In this Guinean village Skip Smith and I stayed over night  when we were illegally transported into Guinea and became indirectly involved in a smuggling operation. March 1969. (double click on photo to enlarge it)

There is an earlier post that I did in which I wrote about the physically challenging trip from Kabala to Kurobonla, a distance of 75 miles but on the most rutted, and dusty road imaginable. It was first in March of 1969 that fellow Peace Corps volunteer Skip Smith and I headed off on a hike of Mt. Bintumani in the Loma Mountains of the North.  I started in Kenema and met skip in Matotaka (near Magburaka) where he was stationed. Our next leg was from Makeni to Kabala on a reasonable road. We spent a night at a volunteers house there before heading east to Kurobonla.  This stretch, as I have previously described, took more than 24 hours and involved our big surprise - as night was on us the driver turned North onto an even narrower and nearly impassable road,  and crossed the border into Guinea - a country that was verboten for us to be in.  First off we did not have our passports. Second - in those days we were not allowed to go to Guinea as it was on the State Department list of countries that U.S. citizens were not allowed to go in.  Our border crossing was uneventful as the place we crossed at was far off the beaten path. Much to our additional surprise - our Lorry got to a point on the road, in Guinea, where due to the rain, we could go no farther since the truck could not get traction on the slippery road. We ended at a small and remote Guinean village. All of a sudden - the other passengers who had been in back with us began removing a false floor of the Lorry and began unloading smuggled goods. Here we were, illegally in Guinea, and now indirectly part of a smuggling ring.  Needless to say we both were apprehensive.  The driver found us a place to sleep, with him and the Lorry Boys as our roommates. The quarters were Spartan to say the least. The bed was made of slats, our house was typically mud and typical of the area, the room was crowded and musty, and of course dark since there was no electricity in the area. I remember sleeping poorly and wondering if somehow, the next morning, we would be discovered by Guinean authorities, and be hauled off to jail. Next morning came early. I got up and walked around in the just lifting early morning fog. It was a Kuranko village (the Kuranko were both in Sierra Leone and Guinea).  The driver sold off his smuggled goods - mostly clothing from Paris - and then apologized for the side trip - and off we started again on the final leg of our 75 miles to the base of Bintumani and Kurobonla. Crossing the border again was thankfully uneventful.

"My Lovely Elizabeth" - S. E. Rogers - Palm Wine Music

S. E. Rogers [Souliman Ernest Rogers] or "Rogie" as he was also known as was a popular, contemporary, and secular guitar player and singer in Sierra Leone. I suspect that he came from near Pujehun in the Southern Province (I judge this from his last name Rogers which was common to that area). I enjoyed his soft voice and his uncomplicated words and tunes. His songs were a mix of English, Krio, and Mende. In the 1960's he was quite popular. Eventually moving to the States he has since passed away. I did acquire several "45's" while in Sierra Leone, and a friend, Allieu B. Massaquoi did give me this song "My Lovely Elizabeth" when he visited long ago. Here it is for you to listen to. Enjoy!

http://www.truepanther.com/mp3s/se/07%20My%20Lovely%20Elizabeth.mp3

also see: http://www.serogie.com/         and

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/S._E._Rogie

More About the Rain Season - crossing the Moa River

Dugout Canoe ferry across the River Moa between Nongowa and Dama Chiefdoms. Friend Patrick Garlough in front and man from Vaama just behind him. This was at the height of the rain season when such crossings could be treacherous as the water current was quite fierce. This was taken in 1969.  [Double click to enlarge]

The rainy season in Kenema could be fierce. It was said that an average rainy season from May to October could bring as much as 200 inches of rain on average.  There were some days where the rain would last all day but there were many days when morning and evening rains would be the rule. Storms could vary from being quite fierce with frightening thunder and lightening seeming just above your head. The winds could also be fierce and damaging. Other more developed storms would just bring incessant drizzle which at times could be heavy.  The latterite red clay roads would get soggy, rutted, and from time to time impassable and treacherous (see previous posting about our one lorry crash resulting from this).  Most of the roads between towns in those days were latterite (not paved) and transportation between towns would get increasingly dangerous due to the latterite getting progressively saturated with rain, getting increasingly rutted and slippery.  On these roads car accidents would become increasingly commonplace as drivers left most of their outcomes to God ("i lef pan god") and thus usually drove much too fast for the conditions.  During the rains the hills of upland rice would be growing, everything turned a rich green color. The dampness was tolerable but impressive. Sheets on your bed were always moist, clothing on lines rarely dried (this required ironing anyway to escape being inflicted with the skin welts from the Tumbu Fly).  You always went out with your umbrella in hand because it rained at least a part if not all of everyday.  It could be cool during some days.  Although the humidity and dampness was always present there were some days when we might actually feel "cold."  Our Sierra Leonean friends found mornings uncomfortably cool (perhaps more so in the cool air of the morning during dry season).   If you did not have your umbrella handy then either you stayed near home or you got wet. We had purchased a number of multicolored and large umbrellas for our travels and always had one with us. They were also useful when the sun was out - as midday sun could be quite hot. An umbrella would be just enough to get by.  On free afternoons or days when I was not teaching and despite the rain, I would travel the local bush roads with friends. Always with my cameras in my red, travel bag I became a common site traveling frequently to local area villages to visit with folks I had met, or to travel to villages where friends had family still living. These villages were small - with some having only a hand full of houses. None of these small villages had modern conveniences (no clean water, no electricity).  The villages were many times at least 3 miles from a main road (sometimes farther).  In these villages there were the usual farmers with their farms within walking distance from their village houses.  Most of these villages were Mende - there was one village which was locally called Limba Corner - which was a Limba (ethnic group) village.  This village was close to where we lived and was perhaps more limited than others. The Limba here were farmers and grew rice in nearby farms. However most of the men were also palm wine sellers (in Mende mapalma). Known for this, they would climb the appropriate palm trees, tap them for the fermenting palm wine, put the wine in their gourds (called Bulies), then haul these heavy gourds into town where they would peddle what hadn't already been drunk by themselves. Palm Wine had a yeasty taste to it and for me it took some time to get used to.  However on a hot day, when you had been working and developed a thirst it could be quite thirst quenching.  In our area the Limba ethnic group was known for their palm wine gathering.  During the rains the farmers had little to do but make sure that the rice was growing. Harvesting of rice took place at the end of the Dry Season and since by this time rice stores might be low - food might be hard to come by if one didn't plan well.  The upland rice grown in Mendeline was very good tasting - it had a brown color to it - and for me a meaty taste.  For the most part farmers grew enough for their family. It was the rare entrepreneur who might grow enough to bring to the market in Kenema to sell. Farmers in our area did not like to grow swamp rice as the swamps were damp and cold and the swamps were often filled with disease.  With the heavy rains the local rivers would swell and become all but impassable. Since bridges were few and river crossings were often far apart, ferry transport by dugout canoe was often a way a young farmer might make a little money. Most in our area did not know how to swim. The fast flowing river water could be quite high and the current strong and treacherous.  The dugout canoes could be tippy. The one man I knew who ran a ferry between Vaama (in Nongowa Chiefdom) and Dama Chiefdom charged a very small fee to cross. His canoe could hold about 4 people. A crossing might take 20 minutes as the canoe would sway from side to side as he directed it across the rapidly flowing River Moa.  He never said much. Passengers would be anyone who showed up where he kept the canoe. He propelled the canoe with a makeshift paddle (wooden handle with wide metal end).  The alternative to this ferry was to walk about 6 miles in either direction before reaching a motor road.  

Nights to Remember

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photo taken on the Kabala Road (from Makeni) - here a women holds her husband's "slit drum" as we all waited for our transport - taken in March 1969

Mende men at the Kenema Agricultural Festival December 1969

Lokko Group at Kenema Trade Show (aka Agricultural Festival or Cacao Show) 1969

Most nights in Kenema were quiet. Sunsets came rapidly. Our area of Kenema, although predominantly Mende, was somewhat of a mix with some members of the Lokko Ethnic group living a few houses down toward Kenema, and with the Fula Section Chief compound about 1/4 mile from us - this was where Alhaji Pa Maju Bah and his many family members lived. Kenema was the seat of the Eastern Province and deep in the heart of Mende country. However it was the commerce there that attracted other groups - and because Kenema was also the major upcountry seat for the diamond industry - the town in those days was flourishing. Downtown, days would be busy. Night time was very quiet since in those days there was limited night time activities. There was a movie theater about 3 miles from us and on the eastern edge of town. At this place grade B movies were shown - including many Italian produced cowboy movies. The theater was owned and run by local Lebanese and the movies were many times preceded by Al Fatah training films - this was to say the least a bit disconcerting. Movies such as "Jango Strikes Back," were a popular showing - most people liked these movies however for us they tended to be a joke. Over our two years we may have gone to the movies 2 or 3 times - but going there was a bit trying since the walk was 6 miles roundtrip and the roads at night were not lit and quite dark. There were no restaurants in Kenema Town in those days. Thus - most of our nights would be spent at home or visiting our local neighbors. We did have - during our first year - a Peace Corps couple who lived nearby. Their names were Margaret and Mark Davis and they taught at the boy's secondary school on Blama Rd called Holy Trinity. Mark and Margaret came from New York City (I think Brooklyn) and were in the Peace Corps group preceeding us. The Sierra Leonenans thought Margaret and Susan were sisters. From time to time we would visit and eat with them. It was from Mark that in our second year I bought his enlarger and developing pans and made a dark room for my black and white pictures.

There were many nights that we sat at home, hoping that we would have electricity (which was quite erratic), either preparing for next day classes, or listening to the somewhat exotic music and stations that we picked up on our short wave radio. I especially enjoyed the music of Radio Guinea and Radio Mali. Of course we listened from time to time to USIS/Voice of America News in "Special English," and often to the BBC. On an occasion the Sisters (Sisters of the Holy Rosary) would invite us to dinner at the Convent. This might be for one of their religious holidays, one time they kindly invited us to celebrate our Thanksgiving, and for the big holidays such as Christmas or Easter. Dinners were rather formal, prepared by their cook, Pa Joseph Simbo, who had been in the West African Expeditionary Forces during WW II where he had learned to cook. The sisters meals were very European - meat and potatoes or similar type foods. Once when they celebrated Susan's birthday they even had a birthday cake. For me the cake looked beautiful. However the beautiful white frosting was as hard as rock, and the cake was fruit cake, something that I just did not like.

There were several nights that in those days we also ate meals with then Father Ganda. He was the very first Sierra Leonean Catholic Priest and lived nearby. From time to time he would invite us to lively dinners at his house. Discussion could be very political as he was often unafraid to speak out about political and other happenings in the area. I liked Father Ganda and our students did also. People were proud that the Church had finally selected an African to lead.

I also remember a number of wonderful nights when our neighbors would call for us and let us know that we should come and listen to their singing. Our neighbor, named Bonya (I never knew her last name) was a wonderful singer. So we would come to our neighbors house, sit on their veranda and listen to the women sing secular songs (in Mende). The music and singing was haunting. The give and take between the lead singer (Bonya) and the group of other women, was eery and beautiful. From time to time I would bring my tape recorder and record what they called their, "Mende sing." I remember one night especially when both Bonya and Mama Hokey sang. It was pitch black out - there was a light rain providing back ground noise, thunder and lightening off in the distance, as the women sang their wonderful songs (Ey Bondu Nyamungo) while I listened dreamily to it all. As I have said before, I found the harmony unusually beautiful. There was something very peaceful about it. And all the women sang so well.

One other time - I am not sure what the celebration was for (it may have been during Ramadan) on a moon lit night the Lokkos, who lived nearby, were having a celebration. We heard it begin from our house, and decided to go and see what we could. Although the moon helped to light our way - it was still dark. However their drumming was strong, and as you got closer to where the men were playing the drum beating became all encompassing. I remember almost getting dizzy by the unbelievable drum playing of these men. I think that night there was some dancing (mostly acrobatics) being done as well. Earlier, such celebrations had been discouraged by the government, as the government was leery of the Kenema area, a hot bed of Mende politics. However, peace had finally come to our area and folks felt comfortable about dancing and singing again. The Lokkos were "cousins" of the Mende - their language had similarities and by history they had probably been split off from the Mende several centuries before. This night I remember returning to our house feeling almost dizzy from the very impressive drum work. The drumming was so loud, and so very impressive as I stood by and watched and listened, that I remember at one point feeling as if the drum beat was coming from inside my chest as I listened on. I think it was that night that I began to realize that there was always an undercurrent of cadence to life in Kenema. I became aware of this undercurrent of daily rhythm and cadence that provided background to daily life. I found this all very comforting.

Bindi

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Bindi lived across Dama Rd from us. Although he eventually got used to me, for a long time he was afraid. Here he is pictured on the veranda at #55 Dama Rd. in Kenema.  To his left is schoolboy Momo Vandy. Taken in 1969. 

Hokey "Kpokpoi"

Hokey was about 6 years old.  A very responsible and hard working child, she helped her aunt with the school market, and fetched water, sometimes fetched wood for the kitchen fire, and generally was expected to do other chores.  She never complained. It was her guardian, Mama Hokey, who gave her the nickname of "Kpokpoi" due to her prominent chin. My neighbors thought that because of this she looked like me and also called her my little sister. Here she is pictured in white dress during what was an early Bundu initiation ceremony. She is pictured here nearby her house at #55 Dama Rd. Taken in 1970.

Fatmata

Fatmata was about 8 years old. She was raised by her aunt. Her mother lived elsewhere and came to Kenema only rarely. Fatmata was a very hard worker - seemingly she had little time to play. She was quiet, almost sad at times. 

"Baby" Elizabeth Garlough

Alfred Porter (?) and Baby Elizabeth

Baby Elizabeth in our kitchen

"Baby" Elizabeth Garlough was about 8 years old. She was, like so many children, a happy and friendly little girl. She lived with Sabina Garlough and her husband across the road from us. A very hard working little girl, she was quite efficient at getting her chores done and in helping around in her house. She would often visit Susan who taught her some cooking skills.  Known as "Baby" by her family (and by us), we ended up paying her school fees so that she could attend the primary school nearby.   (double click photo to enlarge)

Across the Moa

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The woman in this picture was very upset with me. Here we were, in the middle of the rain season, all in a very tippy dugout canoe ferry heading from the south bank of the Moa River to the north bank near Vaama in Nongowa Chiefdom.  Our ferryman ran a business ferrying folks across this treacherous stretch. During the rain season, when several inches might fall in a day, and where 200 inches of rain fell in a season (May to October) the River Moa had a strong current and was dangerous.  In this area the nearest bridge crossing was probably 6 miles.  Villages on both sides were small - maybe 15 houses at most - but there were no roads to these villages (there were bush paths) - and markets were far.  From villages situated on the south side (behind the ferryman) it was a 3 mile walk once you crossed the river to the road (Dama Rd). From here it was another several miles to Kenema and the big market there.  Although many of these villages were self sufficient - as rain season progressed the rice stores would become low - and if your planning was not good - you might have to get to Kenema to purchase more rice at the market.  Anyway - here I was, sharing this ferry with this woman and her daughter, and with my friend Patrick (Garlough).  I had my camera - as I always did - and turned around to take this photo op.  The canoe shook as I did this, and she grimmaced (she probably did not swim; she was brave enough to be crossing by canoe ferry; she did not need my gyrations).  I took a number of photos then turned back, kneeling, as we finished our journey to the other side (and to Vaama).  Once we got to the shore, she yelled at me in Mende. She was not rude - she was angry - and she had been correct. I apologized in my best Mende and she accepted my apology allowing me to take her and her daughter's picture. I sent them a copy. 

The Bondo at Foindu Nongowa

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Mama Hokey, the head of the area Bondo Society (known as Sowei in Mende) is standing in the back in the blue dotted top. This was taken at her village called Foindu in 1969. The girls in the picture are young - I was never really sure as to why they were being "initiated" however my sense was that schools, especially religious schools, looked down on what the Bondo was doing, and as a result the local societies did some ceremonies earlier before the girls became influenced by the schools. I am not sure I am correct in this regard. Some of the elders of the scoiety at Foindu are seen sitting in white on this veranda. On the window shutter there can be seen a political advertisement for the well-known late B.S. Massaquoi who was a minister of parliament (MP) in those days. During the war, he and other "big men" from Kenema were murdered by the rebels. Also in the picture is Susan. Sitting next to the elders and carrying something is our friend Elizabeth Garlough. In the orange headress on the right is Moiyatu. In the back on the right is also Bonya who was a wonderful Mende singer. These were our Kenema neighbors. Foindu was a 3 or 4 mile walk from our house. Being at such events was part of the rhythm of village life in upcountry Sierra Leone in those days. And we were lucky enough to be included. Folks knew of my interest in Mende-life. And folks were proud of their culture. I felt honored to be let in to what little was acceptable for a white man to be part of - to this day I cherish these many events and their allowing me to come by and have a look. I think people wanted to make me a part of the events - they liked that I loved their music and was fascinated by these spirits that were a part of their secret societies. Many times I would be called to go see what was about to take place at a nearby village - and each time I would grab my camera and runoff to see if I could "capture" some portion on film. In my mind today I have such wonderfully vivid memories of how I felt watching a Bondo Devil in action, or listening to the beautiful harmony of a Mende song, or watching women celebrate what it meant to be a woman in upland Mende country. My participation was peripheral, but in some way folks felt a need to let me be a part. The major issue was that they knew how very much I cherished even my peripheral participation. I now look back on these photos of so long ago and with each photo I have wonderful memories of those times in Sierra Leone.

The Bondo Society

I am not sure what exactly drew me to concentrating many of my images on the Bondo Society - it was perhaps its historical and cultural impact, along with its wonderfully charming and beautiful spirit. I was lucky in that in our area lived the leader of the local Bondo - as mentioned in previous postings, her name was Mama Hokey. Although this society was a secret one, they did allow us to observe their "public" activities, which were many. They also allowed me to take pictures of these public events some of which I have placed here today---;

Bondo Spirit at Mama Hokey's village of Foindu in the Nongowa Chiefdom/Kenema District - 1969

Below - a series of pictures taken at Bitema in the Nongowa Chiefdom of the Bondu Spirit attending to a Bondo Girl. Although posted previously these images are among my favorites. 1969-70

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Dama Road Bondo - Kenema

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Bondo Leader (in Mende Sowei) Mama Hokey (on right) with Bondo Devil. Mama Hawa is on left. Moiyatu is behind and partially obscured by Mama Hokey. This photo was taken in the back of #55 Dama Road in 1970.

heading in front of Mrs. Porter's house on Dama Road these women joyously celebrate. Photo taken in 1970.

HRSS student Sabina Tucker

Sabina Tucker in the school garden at HRSS Kenema

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Where are you now Sabina and what are you doing?  Did you finish secondary school?  Did you go on to college?   What are you doing now?   Do you have a family?  Although I could ask these same questions about all of our students in those days - today I came across this picture of Sabina working in our school garden - I have a few memories of her.  I do not remember where Sabina came from although I remember her being of the Mende ethnic group. She was a good student - she worked hard as studies did not come easy for her. But she was a wonderful person. Even when things might not be going well for her she was always pleasant, always with a smile on her face, and always very attentive and respectful of others.  She volunteered for everything - she was always so positive.  Both Susan and I got along very well with her. Sabina was such a very good person. Sometime after the dry season I began a school garden and asked for volunteers. She was the first to volunteer and the hardest of workers. So very responsible she attended to the garden almost daily with weeding, care of the plants, and enjoying every bit of it.  Sabina had started with us in our first year at HRSS (she was a first former then).  She was a serious person - my impression was that she came from a strong and close family.  As with all our students from that era - I wonder (with some concern) who and whether she/they survived the horrible ten year war. Hopefully she and the others managed to escape the horror of that period.  If any follow this blog and can direct it to HRSS students I would appreciate it. 

Diamonds

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a raw diamond in Koindu

illicit diamond diggers in Koindu

looking for diamonds in Koindu

Early on volunteers were warned to stay away from diamonds, diamond dealers, and the industry in general.  There was unfortunately many a school boy who went off to the diamond areas to find his fortune - few ever did. There diamond areas were somewhat lawless - men left their villages, and in doing so their civic responsibilities in order to become rich. The Diamond Corporation was puzzlingly run by  foreigners or at least partially so. The market was in Europe or in America. The diamond mining was in alluvial surface mines and was in an area to our east and north. Kenema was the seat of the Diamond trade however.  Most of the diamond mining that I saw was illicit diamond diggers. The areas where they concentrated tended to resemble wild west towns of the gold rush in America. These towns were not safe.  Not all diggers were illicit - there were licensed diggers.  It was not unusual for a man to try and sell you a diamond but being the straight arrow that I was in those days I avoided any sellers. They tended to carry the diamonds in their mouth and might walk by you, stick out their tongues with a diamond there, and try to sell it to you.    Even in those days you could see how this industry was playing havoc with family life, with civility, and with the rural social structure. 

"You'll Never see a poisonous snake." Peace Corps Doctor - July 5, 1968

A Green Mamba - a bad actor

It was true that one might not see a snake if you lived briefly in Sierra Leone, but the irony of the above statement which was given to us in an introductory lecture while up at Fourah Bay College, was that while the Peace Corps doctor was reassuring us that we would never encounter a poisonous snake, out side there was a commotion as men were killing a black spitting cobra with a cutlass. That was the only snake that we came across in Freetown. I remember seeing a gigantic  boa while we continued our training at Njala - its head was the size of a large alligator's.  And soon after we arrived at our post in Kenema I started to see a number of spitting cobras that were nesting near our house.  It was too risky for us to tolerate these as nights could be quite dark - and one step on these could be deathly. We even had a snake around our outdoor toilet.  I was not fond of these confrontations - but was spat on by one of these cobras and remember getting an irritating red rash on a forearm - no more sick than that. I do remember hearing that a volunteer elsewhere was struck in the eyes by a spitting cobra while going into his latrine one night. He ended up with a two week horrible eye irritation. My back yard cobras - I used my cutlass and a long stick to deal with. There were many.  The Teachers Training Students who lived on the compound were also bothered by cobras and several times would come to me for help in eliminating the snakes.  Night time was also risky for the Gaboon Viper - a fat, slowmoving snake that you might confront on a road while walking home at night. The snake was very slow unlike to Mambas or Cobras - but if you stepped on them unknowingly their bite could also be deadly. There were two mambas that I remember coming across. One was on a bush road heading to the River (Moa) when one fell from a tree and brushed my shoulder as it scattered into the bush. I was lucky. I think the other I came across again on our school compound when I was called to the TTC quarters because a snake was trying to get inside.  The Mamba (green Mamba) was a very scarey snake - fast moving - and if it bit you you did not survive.  There were non-poisonous snakes also but most Sierra Leoneans considered all snakes to be poisonous. The statement by the Peace Corps doctor was one of a number of inaccurate medical advice statements made to us on that 1st day. 

Birthdays

(double click to enlarge)

I was 22 when we arrived (Susan was 21) in Sierra Leone (July 5, 1968) and 24 when we left. We celebrated birthdays quietly in our little house on Dama Road with Susan usually improvising birthday cakes. These were quiet events as in those days these events were not grounds for much in the way of celebration locally. Our Birthday cakes were usually simple - frosting was homemade as was the cake, and our simple birthday recognitions were together at our kitchen table (see photo above).   I do not remember any of our neighbors celebrating such events - birthdays were just another day for Sierra Leoneans. The cake would be made in our kitchen where I remember us having some sort of oven (supplied by a small canister of gas).   Most of the materials could be obtained in Kenema at one of the Indian Stores (Chellaram's or Chanrai's). I remember little in the way of presents that we bought for each other but I am sure we did get each other presents. Of course packages did arrive from home although sometimes several months late. This included a wax sealed birthday cake made once by Susan's sister which arrived after the 3 month transit sealed, but when opened it was covered by a fine, green velvety covering of mold. The thought was appreciated however we did not eat the cake. 

The Upcountry Women of Sierra Leone

As is probably true of all cultures women in Sierra Leone seemed to provide the base for families and especially for children. And as in most cultures men seemed to have it somewhat on the easy side. Women worked hard in Sierra Leone. They bore children, raised them, watched over them closely as they grew up, saw to it that they were provided with the basics (this might even include school fees), and were the foundation for family life. It was the women who might have her baby in the morning - this after a 9 month period in which, despite being pregnant, she would still be working hard to get the food ready or do the many chores that she felt responsible for - but it was not unusual to see that very women who had delivered a baby in the morning to be out helping with a rice planting/or wood gathering/or other physical labor that very afternoon. I was always so very impressed - the newly delivered baby on the mother's back - being carried out to the farm that very day. No break at all. This was perhaps more true of the upcountry women. In Freetown - with less rural influences perhaps women did things differently. But up in Mendeline (as they called it) women had few expectations of being pampered - and thus after the big event - a new baby - they would be right out there and at it almost as if it was no big deal. I certainly was aware that the infant mortality rate in Sierra Leone was high - but I marveled at how the women in our neighborhood seemed to do well. I remember about 5 new babies in our neighborhood in our two years. All of the children seemed to thrive. The babies were delivered at home (no one went to the Government Hospitals for deliveries in those days), and I think that babies were delivered by women from the Bondo society - although I am not sure of this. I do remember one baby from a nearby village who was brought to me as a newborn (I am not sure why I was involved) and I remember that this newborn appeared very distressed - and was taken immediately to the Kenema Government Hospital. I was told later that the baby died of tetanus. So if you look at my statistics 1 baby in 6 died in our general area (16%). It was the women who made the homes - who provided the clothing for the kids for the most part, who saw to it that there was food, and who provided in all ways for the children. In most settings the father was at times away trying to earn money to help out. When home men seemed to play a distant role in the raising of kids. That is not to belittle what men did - it was just what was. The women seemed to provide the foundation for daily life. Young girls closely watched their mothers and mimicked them. Young boys had a slightly separate role - early on they might hang on their mother's "lappas" but by their teenage years many would "feel their oats" and act out. Boys might want to become lorry boys, or head to Freetown for the high life and this might be acceptable. For a young women to do the same - this might be looked upon as very daring and unacceptable. Boys did have their chores and this might include helping on the farm, or many times going to school. During our time - more and more women were being educated. Sierra Leone had always had a rich tradition of education even though school fees were very expensive. With the establishment of Holy Rosary Secondary School (for girls) - this provided for education beyond the primary level. The University of Sierra Leone (Fourah Bay) was perhaps the ultimate goal - this being the oldest established and well-known university in West Africa. Our school girls at HRSS and also at the Kenema TTC were examples of potential leaders for the future as well as examples for younger women all over the country. They would become well-educated and then give back to their own. Sure pay for teachers was much too low - and rural education had its pitfalls - but as more and more women from the hinterland were being educated this was providing women with some options not readily available to them earlier. Secondary education was not universal - since the fees were high and only a small percentage could afford. Fees might run nearly a years earnings for an individual. Those women who survived the ability to pay their fees, and did not get pregnant, and managed to finish their schooling could go on to higher education. We were proud to be a small part of this potential. In those days women did have "outlets" - maybe this was during the Bondo training. This traditionally portion of women's lives was - as I saw it as an outsider - a time for unification - a special time in which women were made more whole - by being taught by experienced elder members. Much of the training was positive. There may have been some that was not. But women who provided for this tradition seemed to enjoy what they were doing - and this did - for them - provide a respit from the daily rhythms of life. It was women - with women teaching young girls the ropes. There seemed to be joy in doing this - at least as I observed from afar. There was a unity that resulted that was independent from men - and the singing, the smiles, the at times near ecstasy that they showed made this a special time. Again, my view of the Bondo was as a foreigner - and clearly I was a very outsider in the happenings of the Bondo - but I did glean from this that this time was special for the elders, and for the newly initiated - and did stand seperate form the mundane and routine of the rest of life. Rumors of negative aspects of the society were only rumors for me - there was little that I found out about this - but much that I found fascinating from my remote perch. Were women happy? yes - I never came across a depressed women. There must have been some but despite the many hardships I was never made aware of unhappiness. Women were proud to be good at what was expected of them, were proud to be good providers and good mothers, were proud to do good parenting, enjoyed what they did this despite the physically demanding nature of what their daily chores were. They also received a certain respect for all of this that when they became older provided them with a stature and position. I do not mean to idealize the plight of women in Sierra Leone because there was certainly a downside to their lives, but I became impressed in this my first venture outside of America, with how it was women who responsibly provided the very foundation and sole of upcountry living.