that we had to just leave so nobody got hurt! I am not sure she understood, but she went along. At least she was smart enough not to ask the “why,” “why,” “why” questions that children that age often ask.
So, on that April day in 1996, I grabbed what little I could: mainly food stuff and bits of changing clothes. “When the fighting stops, we will return home,” I reassured my family. We stepped out, and by this time, almost the entire community was heading toward the ELWA Red Light, a major intersection that leads either westward to the city center of Monrovia or eastward outside Paynesville toward Kakata, in Margibi County. We joined the crowd heading nowhere particular. There was no set place in mind to take my family. As we walked, I thought about all the possible places we could stop, to rest or stay at night. The names of close friends came to mind but I wasn’t sure if they would be home since we had not seen them in months. At this point, we just wanted to get out of the danger zone and into a safer area.
On my head was a half bag of rice (Liberia’s staple), and in my hands were two motley striped bags, which Liberians often refer to as 'refugee bags', stacked with clothes and other basic necessities. My wife had the 6-year-old on her back and the 11- year-old clung to her right arm.
“We approached the ‘Junction’ and joined the larger crowd heading west toward the Red Light area. It was apparent we could not go West toward the city, so we just kept going with the crowd”
We headed away from the sounds of the bullets toward the ELWA intersection often referred to simply as the “Junction.” ELWA - Eternal Love Winning Africa - had long become a community, from which an interdenominational Christian group had established a strong media presence, airing news and religious teachings. The idea of running under bullets time after time was becoming increasingly frustrating. As we approached the “Junction” we observed a much larger crowd heading Northeast toward the Red Light area. It was apparent we could not go West toward the city, so we just kept going with the crowd. The mass movement was a result of fear—fear of being caught between warring forces; fear of becoming casualties, as it often was the fate of the civilian population when fighting erupted in an area.
Experiences showed that it was not wise to remain in any area when fighting forces met, except you were a military person and had weapons for self-protection. It was still not safe to have your family and little children in those situations, even if you were a military person. And so, at the sound of excessive shootouts—no ordinary shooting—it made good sense to get away before it was too late. The word on the street was that it was Government forces—the Armed Forces of Liberia (AFL) — advancing from town in an attempt to stop the rebel forces from reaching the city center. This news was confusing to many of us, more so because no one could understand who AFL were referring to as “rebels” when in fact, all of the factional rebel forces were represented in government and within the city. But as with any rebel war, there is no time for reasoning; whatever the AFL meant was good enough for us to get away from the center of any gunfight.
Two hours on the journey and after several miles of walking, we encountered a friend of ours— Cedrick Reeves—with his family. The Reeves had also vacated their home and were looking for safety. It was a joy to see Cedrick. It had been a while since we met. We had known one another since high school, in the early 1980s. Our acquaintance was strengthened when we found ourselves part of the same church. Both of us loved to sing and were members of the church’s Junior Choir. Cedrick was a lead vocalist and sang first tenor. As for me, I sang second tenor and later bass. We grew up as young adults in the church, learning and participating in numerous church and church-related activities. Over time, we related to each other more like brothers than mere friends. Cedrick’s wife Nora was also a member of the choir, just as my wife was. We were just one big family!
Occasionally during the war, we would meet and share our experiences and challenges. Interestingly, we kept jobs—whatever there was—and we were thankful that God continued to sustain us. Sometimes we filled each other’s needs, such as food, money and basic necessities. On this day of seeking a place of safety, we walked and talked about our disappointments and the disruptions and the constant uprooting that the war was causing families; the unbearable mental and physical strain and stress that it brought on us.
We reflected on how it was easier to get around by oneself, but how extremely difficult it was when one had to look out for the welfare and safety of others. So was the situation with family men like Cedrick and myself and many others like us. Within the war, we fought a different kind of fight. Ours was not the bullets and gun types, but the type that challenged us to fetch for food, ensure protection of family from heartless men and women, and secure a safe place when night finally came and the family could rest from hurdles of the day.
As we continued the journey that day, Nora, Cedrick’s wife, informed us that she had a sister or cousin who lived near the Freeport. However, she was not sure whether the person was home or had traveled. They would stop by anyway, once they got to the Freeport. Nora asked if we would like to join them. Of course, you know what my answer was: a resounding “YES.” I said it so fast, we all laughed about it; but the truth was, I wanted to be the first to say “yes” before someone walking behind or beside us answered – thinking he/she was being spoken to. Funny enough, no one else was traveling that close to us. Anxiety has a way of creating needless suspicion. Anyway, hearing and feeling the eagerness in my voice, Nora couldn’t help laughing: “You are so crazy!” she said and we laughed the thought away.
Those who know me well, know that I can be very humorous sometimes. I make little jokes here and there regardless of the situation. It worked for me; it takes away some of the stress, ease the tension and keeps me going to the next mile. We started singing some choruses along the way; it seemed to have shortened the distance. A good song in trouble times can sure make a difference in how you receive and deal with the circumstance—particularly, when you internalize the message or words of the song in relation to your current situation. Think about such songs like “You are God/ You never change. / We bow to you, / We exalt your name”, or “Jesus Never Fail Me Yet”, or “God Has an Army Marching through the Land”, or “In Moments like These”, or “I Know the Lord Will Make a Way for Me.” As you can see, these songs bear so much promise and inspiration that just believing them as you sing can help strengthen your psyche. True gospel singing is preaching through music. It is a powerful way of reawakening your spirit and inspiring a zeal that increases your faith. And that was exactly what these choruses did to us. It calmed our fears and increased our faith in knowing that we would make it through and that God was walking with us.
For most of us who grew up in the church, and particularly in the choir, music has always been a source of comfort and relief in our down moments. When you feel all alone and weary; when you think your world is falling in on you; when friends, families and foes forsake you; and you have no one to turn to, just begin to sing and meditate on the words of a song—a gospel song or hymn. Soon, you will begin to see the problem from a whole different perspective. So, my family and Cedrick Reeves’ family walked and sang and laughed and talked, and looked out for the kids, as we journeyed on.
By the time of the April 6th outbreak of hostilities, it had been almost seven years since the war began and still there seemed to be no resolution in sight. Peace accords and attempts by the international community and other mediation groups to resolve the conflict had failed time after time. From the outset of the conflict, the African sub regional body, the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS), undertook several initiatives to bring about a peaceful settlement. Its efforts were supported by the United Nations. The efforts included establishing, in 1990, an ECOWAS observer force, the Economic Community Military Observer Group (ECOMOG). Ceasefires after ceasefires were broken over the years.
In 1992, a Special Representative was appointed by the Secretary General of
