ORE Project Site

I am attempting to write this blog post from the backseat of a Toyota 4runner as we bounce (I couldn’t possibly even describe this as drive) over the worst roads I’ve seen in all of Africa. Not that I am an African road expert, but since January of this year – I’ve seen a few miles of it.

As my laptop charges in the cigarette lighter and the cord reaches up over the front seat to my spot in the back– I certainly don’t have to remind myself that this wee bit of power is a luxury. When we met with the CEO of Liberia Electricity Corporation the other day he proudly announced the upcoming plans for a 1360 km power line (that will deliver 240 mega watts of power). The power will come from Cote d’Ivoire, run through Liberia and finish in Guinea with the first bit of power becoming available mid-2016. This statement made me question him “how many people in Liberia currently have access to electricity”? “Not many but our plan in the next 10-15 years is to get 30% of the population access” he answered. If that is their long-term goal – I had to ask what their current state was. Looking for a more specific answer I asked him “exactly how many Liberians currently have access”? When he answered, “we are just nearing the 5% mark”, you could hear the gasps around the room. Ninety-five percent of Liberians have no power – literally.

We left Monrovia yesterday morning at 4am with Bong County as our destination for this trip. One of the two organizations I am traveling with is ORE (Outreach For Rural Education). ORE is a Liberian based NGO with board members in both Liberia and Norway. Around one year ago ORE set a goal to build a school in the incredibly remote village of Gbaith in Bong County. Their reason for selecting this specific village to receive a school was the current length of the walk for the young children. The closest school to this village is a 1 hour and 45 minute walk – one-way. We visited the current school on our way to the village and not only is the school quite a distance away but the desks are all broken or non-existent leaving most children sitting on boards on the floor when they attend classes.

I have to give you a bit of history on this village and its attempt to get a closer school for their children. This story is what made this day even more meaningful for me. The village of Gbaith had been promised a school for its children three times before. Politicians come out to rural areas prior to elections and make false promises of roads and schools – two items that pull at the heartstrings of all Africans. Roads because they lead to access- for resources to get to their villages, for products they make and grow to get to the markets and to close the gap between urban and rural living standards. And schools because they lead to a better future for the next generation. Unfortunately as with politicians all over the world, with Africa being infamous for having the worst lot of them, these promises fail when the last ballot has been counted.

This village has started to build bricks for the school three times. When we were there you could see three unfinished piles sitting in the field where the school will be built. Seeing the spirit and smiles of the people and then turning to see the piles of unused bricks was tough. It makes me wonder how they trust the next organization and the next promise of a school. But if there is anything I have learned about Africans and even more specifically Liberians it is that their sense of hope is perhaps greater than anywhere else on earth.

As we drove over the bumpiest part of the road nearing Gbaith Village, I could hear what sounded like small children singing. The only word of the song I could make out was the word ‘welcome’. By the time I had the chance to fish my camera out of the back seat – I looked up to see hundreds of children, dressed in their school uniforms, lining both sides of the road.

Our three-vehicle convoy came to a sudden stop in the middle of the road. Looking up I saw that the school children were not alone, they were accompanied by a drumming band, dancers and hundreds of locals smiling, waving and throwing rice (a sign of prosperity) on us as we exited the vehicles.

I have never witnessed a greeting so warm and filled with so much energy. Side note: since this village welcoming I’ve had time to reflect on how I greet people that come to my home in Calgary for the first time. It would be a rare occurrence for me to even offer to hang your jacket. There is no marching band, there are no dancers – there’s no one throwing rice. In fact – I would be shocked if there was a bit of food in the house at all. Given the choice, I would never visit me again. After being led hand in hand with the children, the dancers and the drummers into this village – we were guided into a covered pavilion and given the chairs at the front as the locals jostled to find space on the few benches and crates with the rest settling on the dirt floor.

Between the energy of the arrival and the heat of the mid-day sun – I had worked up quite a sweat. As soon as our delegation was seated, women dressed in beautiful African fabrics stood behind each one of us – fanning with a piece of fabric for the remainder of the 2.5-hour ceremony. As much as I could not have been happier for the human fan, I didn’t want the special treatment. I just wanted to join the locals sitting on the floor and take in the day through their eyes.

Through the afternoon speeches were made, cheers were heard, ground was broken with shovels, friendships were made and food was cooked and enjoyed.

The next morning I woke up to a full bucket in the shower (shower of course equals small mud hut, bucket of water, cloth hanging from piece of wood making the door and a hole dug in the floor for the water to run away), a delightful breakfast and the sound of people already hard at work. With my small posse of children that followed me from dawn until dusk we followed the sounds toward the people working.

Every man in the village had an axe, a shovel or a wheel barrel and was already hard at work clearing the grounds the school will be built on. We delivered 80 bags of cement to get them started on making bricks as well shovels and picks. A meeting had been held that morning and they decided to divide the village into two teams. On day one the first team would work on the school site as the other team would attend to the chores around the village. And the next day vice versa until the school is complete.

At the end of our stay in Gbaith, so many locals asked me if I would be back. “For sure” I answered – and then that feeling you get in your gut when you are lying hit me. I wonder if I will get back here? It is such a special place, but yet so remote and so difficult to get to. Had I just in fact made a promise to these people that I could not keep? Ugh!!! Their lives are simple in the way that if they made a promise to you, there is no doubt in my mind they would do whatever possible to keep that promise.

I would love to get back to this village. Better yet, I would love to be able to share my experience, their way of life, their energy and their hospitality. I almost feel I have to apologize for these photos – they can never do the beauty and uniqueness of this village justice. You will just have to visit them and experience their energy for yourself.