I was once afraid of darkness. But many many things in my life have happened in the dark of night that I have grown to embrace—the dark. I am no longer afraid of the dark. I know how to navigate darkness quite well. After the wars ended, many many were—and are still—unemployed in Liberia—and all those evil-looking people that were once upon a time in power and in-charge because they had evil-looking sticks in their hand that makes a certain loud noise when they touch and hold these sticks a certain way. Some will even wear a shining belt around these sticks, some will cross the belts over their chests and bodies and it will be looking just like they are wearing a jumpsuit suspender that is crisscross, making the belt look bumpy like a washing board crisscrossed on them. Way-way back. Some people tell me that the pointy end of one of these shiny crisscross suspenders looking belts are what make people fall down on the ground—dying just like flies. And just like mosquitoes, when the pointy end come out the mouth of these sticks, making loud noises and hitting people or anything standing in front of it. I asked. Why will a stick have a month? And make a noise?. Sticks do not eat or talk to have a mouth. But. I saw many many people with these sticks. In their hands.

One day, some of these people were no longer wearing these belts and no longer had sticks—that makes noises. Very loud noises and—putting them in-charge. You know what they say right? You are “in-charge” by making really really loud noises. And. You have to make a really really loud noise so that you can be heard. Is this the real real reason why plenty people yell when they talk? To be in charge? 

You see, I have been around many many loud noises and I have seen a lot—so people who make really really loud noises when they talk in hope to scare me or get my attention, do not scare me at all. Anymore. I just look at them and say, I will still hear you and your point will still enter my eardrum and my hay even—if you talk a little less—loudly. And. It will take a lot more out of you for you to scare me. Try again.

Loud noises do not scare me anymore. Darkness does not scare me anymore. Change—most definitely does not scare me. I know all of them—very well. They became my friends—by force. And. We are good friends now. I will tell you a secret, but promise you will not tell it to anyone else—publicly. Or share it on the internet. This is a secret just between you and me. Swear? Okay, I will tell you. I learn and I study best at the dark of night or morning. When everyone is asleep. I will wake up at 1am, 2am, 3am and study for big big tests and big big exams. Like the CPA exams. College exams. High school exams, and more. I have taken control of the darkness. Plus. It is very very quiet at night or morning, and when everyone is sleeping, there are less distractions. I think, imagine, and visualize—best at night—just like an owl. The owl that sits in The Cotton Tree, that is in the middle of the town of Foequelleh. The town where I was born. I see clearly during the night. I also find order in messes and chaos. There are orders and patterns in them all, you see. It is a complicated and scattered puzzle of life. But I learned a trick. A trick I started way back in Liberia. Alright, you got me. Navigating difficult situations comes naturally to me but some of my upbringing and surrounding events around me play a role also—way back in Liberia, when we became displaced—many many times—there were a lot of us sleeping in one bedroom—when there was a bed or a room to make a bedroom. And there were so many things happening all at once. But papa always kept me in school. No matter where we were or no matter how long it took to find a school for me to attend. Let me tell you this fact. You can not joke with papa’s school business. Education is papa’s best of friends. Pal-lee. So education became my pal-lee too, because papa and I are best of friends. I know papa more than I know mama. But I am getting to know mama a little more. Way back in Liberia, I will wake up and study at night, when things was a little quiet. I will get a bucket of water and put my feet in it to keep me awake, as I studied using candle light. Because I know what happens when you fall asleep with the candle light still on. My big brother Kerkula learned this lesson way-back at our home in Jarhpanmue Community. You see, I was the youngest for very very long time, so I observed and I learned from all of them. Papa always told me this. Pay attention and learn. “Don’t allow someone to sway you from your goal. Keep to your lovely smile and good moral conducts to all big or small, young or old, always take courage” Good-good things happened at nights back when we lived in Jarhpanmue Community, in our own house.

And plenty plenty other bad-bad things happened at night after we were forced to leave. Some of those people who no longer had the sticks, shiny belts and power because they had been disarmed during the ceasefire and disarmament process and were given $150 USD, bags of rice, and pots and pans in exchanged for their sticks and belts—as if these things will fix the traumas and ugly-looking things in their heads. You know what? It did not fix it. Would you like to know how I know this? I lived right near a disarmament camp before coming to Vermont and after we left Jarhpanmue Community with few other stops during the trip. It was not a straight journey. It was bend-bend. I saw plenty plenty people that had sticks and belts and were in-charge days before the disarmament camps were set up, and after these disarmament camps were set up, I woke up one day and saw that some of these people had no sticks and no belts and no power. They retired with—nothing. Even in their dreams and in broad daylight. They are hunted. You can tell by the way they walk around. Some of these retired people still had—and have—sticks in their hands—secretly—and they put their hands into armed robbery business at nighttime. So, many many things started happening at night after—the war ended and the disarmament camps that were put up—came back down. A different kind of war started at nighttime, you see. Then, it started happening during the daytime—too. 

When some of these robbers saw you coming with a bag toward them—they say—you will hear them singing this song to each other —“can you see your blessings coming?” and the others will sing back “I see it coming. Let’s lift—him—up higher. Lift him up—higher…” then these robbers will lift up their blessings—robbing them, bad-way. And if their blessings decide to run—away, they will stop their blessings from leaving. Sometimes their blessings stayed there forever—dead. Sometimes their blessings escape from their hands and before their eyes. 

You know the interesting part? The song that these robbers are singing is a Christian song that is sung in church, you see. In the Church, the person that is bringing the blessings is God and God is being lifted up—in this song. But. To those who put their hands in the robbery business—their blessings—are anyone with anything that they do not have—so people with their blessings—are lifted up. Higher. And are worshiped. Bad-way.

Although the civil war ended in 2003 in Liberia, and the ceasefire and the disarmament—thingy happened—where ex combatants were given rice, pots and pans, and less than $200 U.S dollars, and sent away. The proper process of treating and caring for many that had and have traumas from wars was never implemented. With the high unemployment rates and difficulties of life and the growing youth population—A new type of war started and this new war of crimes and robberies is getting worse as the years goes by. Many other things are happening during the day—good things. But crimes rates are on the rise in Liberia and mostly during the nights. And day. I have been watching during my time in Liberia, and from a distance. Mama, and my sisters and my brothers through papa will write me and tell me about these events. and Now I am writing.

August 2015—when I first visited Liberia after leaving for the U.S in 2008. I took my nephews out during the day to get ice cream and I was tagged as a “blessing”—it was during the day. The day I took the above pictures. The person who tagged me had been watching me, and my nephews from a distance. I did not know this. After my nephews were done eating their ice creams, I said to them, it is time to go back. Let’s get back before the sun goes down. And we got up and started to walk down the stairs of the ice cream shop. That was when the “blessings receiver” walked up to me and said, “Ma, I beg you please help me with small-thing. I just need something to eat. I have been watching you and your children, I could have jumped you but I do not want to do this to you, so I am asking you please, help me with small-thing. I just want to eat” I thanked this person and told them that I do not have much left because I have to pay-my-way, along with all the children and I gave this person what I had left minus my transportation fare but what I gave this person was nothing to get them through the rest of the day because I did not have much, then I crossed the road and got into a taxi with my nephews and left—looking back at this person as the taxi drove away, and knowing that they will be looking again for their next blessings and the next person or blessings might not be as lucky as me. And to them. The blessing could be beaten badly and left for-dead or even killed. And the blessing receiver could be beaten badly and left for-dead or even killed. I saw so much potential for the courage it took this person to look the other way and to ask me—directly. But I had nothing and no means to help—for this person to continue looking the other way—until looking the way becomes a habit that this person grows to like and do naturally. I turned my back, got in the taxi, and I left.

These are the stories of all those—now labeled as “Zo-goes” in Liberia and more. Many of these “Zogoes” want to look the other way and not be called or labeled as “Zogoes”. They want to be call by their given names. Some seek and are eager to look the other way, like the person I met from August 2015. But the struggle is not easy. For them. Men, Women, Boys, Girls, and Children. So, each time I sing the song—“Can you see your blessings coming? I see it coming” I think about the meanings of—blessings. 

What is the meaning of blessing for you? Are you someone else’s blessing? Is someone else your blessing?

Thank you for reading.

Lawuo, Yemah-Gbokwoh, Zorkleene, Aalafayiah, Dolokolliemah, Cummings and Naimah