I am Not Mandela; I am not Fanon; I am not Che, Castro, Nkrumah or Gandhi

I have read and continue to read and study Jesus of Nazareth, Mandela, Fanon, Che, Castro, Nkrumah, Gandhi, Marx, Engels, Machiavelli and many other individuals who influenced our one world in a specific way.

My reading and studying of these great men, helped to shape my life. But little did I know I would come face-to-face with similar but rather dramatically different things that these great men came across during their day.

Only one thing in the scheme of things that has kept me afloat and going on my own journey to freedom; and that’s the concept of “objective Reality.”

I will not delve too much into “objective reality” so that we do not lose sight of the issue at hand.

If anyone thinks I can be like Jesus, Mandela, Castro, Fanon, Nkrumah, Mao, Che, Marx or Gandhi, he or she must think again. For I am not on the level of any of these great men.

And this is where “objective reality” creeps in. During the day of these great men, there was no Internet. I’m sure if they had the Internet, they would have sent in their daily experiences. Because of the lack thereof, other people had to tell their stories and experiences, whether or not the accountings are correct.

In my day, because of the Internet, I am telling my experiences on a daily basis as they happen. Those experiences may sound “ridiculous” and “unbelievable” but that’s that truth. I’m sure if those great men mentioned above were doing the same as I am doing, others or their detractors would have had the same attitude as it is with mine. In any case, they probably went through similar criticism. But not up to our knowledge.

In essence, the day of those great men is dramatically different from mine. I could list a platitude of examples, but for the lack of time and space, I will remain this far.

Jesus, also referred to as Jesus of Nazareth, is the central figure of Christianity, whom the teachings of most Christian denominations hold to be the Son of God. Christians believe Jesus to be the awaited Messiah of the Old Testament and refer to him as Jesus Christ, a name that is also used by non-Christians. The Bible tells us He walked on water. I could never be like Him.

Fidel Alejandro Castro Ruz is a Cuban communist revolutionary and politician who was Prime Minister of Cuba . At my age, Fidel was already head of Cuba. That means I can never be like him!

The martyr, Ernesto Che Guevera, was an Argentine-Cuban revolutionary who made a monumental contribution to the anti-imperialist and world socialist movement in Latin America, Africa and throughout the globe. His political determination and theoretical reflections provide tremendous lessons for the workers, farmers and youth today who are facing the same challenges of building societies devoid of class exploitation, racism and national oppression. I am far from Che!

Frantz Fanon was a Martinique-born, French Creole psychiatrist, philosopher, revolutionary, and writer whose works are influential in the fields of post-colonial studies, critical theory, and Marxism. As an intellectual, Fanon was a political radical, and an existentialist humanist concerning the psychopathology of colonization, and the human, social, and cultural consequences of decolonization. I am not Fanon and can never be Fanon!

Kwame Nkrumah was the leader of Ghana and its predecessor state, the Gold Coast, from 1951 to 1966. Overseeing the nation's independence from British colonial rule in 1957, Nkrumah was the first President of Ghana and the first Prime Minister of Ghana. An influential 20th-century advocate of Pan-Africanism, he was a founding member of the Organization of African Unity and was the winner of the Lenin Peace Prize in 1963. He saw himself as an African Lenin. I am not Nkrumah and never be like him!

Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi, was the preeminent leader of Indian nationalism in British-ruled India. Employing non-violent civil disobedience, Gandhi led India to independence and inspired movements for non-violence, civil rights, and freedom across the world. I am not!

To compare me with these all-powerful men that had tremendous impact on the history of mankind is rather disingenuous.

As a young man deriving commitment and revolutionary integrity from my late father and then enhanced by The Movement for Justice in Africa (MOJA) trying to do my best in taking my country into the 21^st Century, is a remarkable task but cannot be compared and measured to that of Jesus of Nazareth, Castro, Nkrumah, Che, Fanon, Gandhi and others.

I hereby invoke sanity in my detractors not to compare me with those great men of insurmountable strides. If I took the baton from them, I can never do exactly what they did. And generations behind me will never do as I am doing today. THAT’S THE FACT!

I know I have done my best; and I know future generations will look through the pages of history and see my work.

And when they do, I hold deep in the abyss of my heart and soul, truly “History will absolve me!”

I am Thomas G. Bedell, a volunteer worker; working and speaking on the ground in Liberia, a victim of police brutality and candidate citizenship repudiation.

The Old Cape Palmas High School Building

(December 11, 2012, Liberia)

It was on Saturday night or should I say, Sunday morning; because it was after 12am in Liberia when I placed a cell phone call to Cousin Joshua Bedell – an exceptionally and incredibly intelligent young man.

On a regular basis, I call Cousin Joshua. Sometimes is in a “blue moon.” When I say “blue moon,” it’s not that type of “blue moon” when it takes so long. The fact that it takes a little bit longer than it should for me to call a senior and well-informed cousin of mine, makes it a “blue moon” to me.

Each time I placed this call to Cousin Joshua, it’s always at night. And that’s mainly to check on him. Because in my personal view, I owe it to him and other senior relatives of mine that I am closed to or I have a good rapport with.

Each time I made a call to Cousin Joshua, we usually talk on minor issues. When I say “minor,” I mean just chatting and laughing. This time, the call was of a different nature.  To add more to that, it was lengthy.

Let me help you set the driving force behind this recent call to cousin Joshua. And also help you know what made the call different from previous calls. After that, then I can move on to the real story prompting this post. So bear with me.

See, Liberia is quite an expensive place to live. If you don’t believe me, ask Amara Konneh, the Minister of Finance!

Considering the work I do as a volunteer in the country and spending my own hard-won money to carry on this work of mine, I always find ways and means to cut cost. By this, I mean, I design strategies to take advantage of certain business Promos so as to make ends meet. By so doing, it allows me to do my work without feeling the severe financial pinch.

Having lived in Liberia for over five years, I realized the most competitive business industry in the country is the cell phone industry (MTN). That’s my opinion. This industry has so many offers so much so, the competition gets very stiff.

To date, there are four cell phone companies in Liberia: 1) LONESTAR, 2) CELLCOM, 3) NOVAPHONE & 4) LIBBERCELL. All of them are continually vying for subscribers. And so they all continue to launch ongoing Promos.

COMUIM changed its name to NOVAPHONE. COMIUM used to be competitive. But now it is drowning in the Sea of competition. To bounce back, it changed its name and threw a monkey wrench in the competition. It starts to offer great and affordable Promos. Truth be told, these are Promos no one can just reject . Because they are great!

If anyone thinks I am doing commercial for the cell phone companies in Liberia, then it will be because I’m saying a lot about the cell phone companies. Why? Because this is the only competitive industry that I know about in Liberia. If this view of mine is commercial for the cell phone companies, then bless my heart! In order to get to my story, I thought by bringing in how the story came about is also as important as the story.

Now, this cell phone Company in its wake like a “sleeping giant,” came face-to-face with another giant cell phone company by the name of CELLCOM.

CELLCOM has been in the business of stiffening the competition with largest cell phone company, LONESTAR. CELLCOM jumped right in the competition with full force. And then “boom!” the dynamics and variables changed. CELLCOM comes with offers that no one can reject; be he a common person or not.

LONESTAR was left in the proverbial cold in all this activity. And so, its marketing department threw its weight into the competition. And “boyo-boy!” as soon as LONESTAR enters, the Ocean of promos engulfed every inch of the country, especially Monrovia from where I author this post. LONESTAR is offering three different promos all at once. And no one really understands how the three promos can work with one company. But all the same, it’s good; that’s business in competition.

First, LONESTAR offers STARZONE which gives you discount up to 100% when you call ONLY LONESTAR customers! On that Promo, LONESTAR adds another Promo - after 3 minutes of talking time which you pay for, the rest of the talk time on the phone BECOMES FREE! Along with that, LONESTAR has another offer: you buy US$5 and you get 200% bonus. Which means, you spend US$5 and get additional US$10 added to the purchase. But there’s one catch: you have to use the FREE $10 that you get as Bonus by 12am. Otherwise, the Bonus will be returned to LONESTAR. Your account in this case becomes zero.

In other words, all these Promos give one the opportunity to call just almost everybody one knows just to use the available $10 bonus before it is midnight.

And that’s exactly what happened when I called Cousin Joshua that September 22 day. I wanted to use my Bonus. And so, I raised a lot of talking points.

See, Cousin Joshua is my senior. He lived in Maryland long before I did. And so he knows a lot about Maryland in his days then I do. So I wanted to get a history lesson from him. He did not hesitate; he provided the lesson to me free-of-charge. And truly, I am appreciative and grateful to him. I learned some things from cousin Joshua that I did not know. I’m sure there are others who are in my shoes until now.

Thanks to cousin Joshua.

To show my appreciation to cousin Joshua, I wish to share the history lesson that I learned from him with anyone whose desire it is to learn what I did.

And this is how it went.

Our concentration was wholly and solely on Maryland County, our Hometown. We talked about the five Vice Presidents of Liberia who came from Maryland with focus on only two of them - J. J. Dossen and Allen N. Yancy. We talked about their burial grounds and their residences in Maryland.

During that time, a cross-section of issues was discussed including our family. Joshua’s paternal grandfather – Hon. Thomas Bedell was top of the page in this family discussion. It was during Hon. Bedell’s term of office as Representative of Harper District that the Capitol Building, a 21^st century state-of-the-art real estate property was built. I found this out when I visited the Capitol Building on one of my research missions. Cousin Joshua confirmed the info. And then he told me more about our family. I can’t discuss all we talked about our family. Most of it is for the family not my readers herein.

Than we arrived at the schools in Cape. Each time I say “Cape,” I am making reference to the whole county of Maryland.

Cousin Joshua has an excellent sense of history and love thereof. Besides, he lived in Harper longer than I did. And so, his command over the history in the 40s and 60s is greater than mine when it comes to what was in Cape long before my time.

Besides talking about other schools, we ended on Cape Palmas High School. I learned a lot. And this is what I learned.

Cape Palmas High School, prior to building the new campus directly opposite the Museum on Maryland Avenue, used to be on Reevy Street directly opposite the old Library next to the residence of the late Cllr. James Shannon, former Chief Justice of the Republic of Liberia. The Library was located right in the back of the residence of Hon. Theo Milton, former superintendent of Maryland County.

The old Cape Palmas High School building, Cousin Joshua tells me, is the building that housed the Arm Forces of Liberia personnel during my day. We used to cut through there and go pass by Teacher Viola Campbell’s house to get to Water Street.  This building had been there all these years and nobody told me it was the first Cape Palmas High School. I was shocked when Cousin Joshua told me so. The building sits right on my proverbial nose and I did not know. And all my days in Harper from kindergarten to high school, nobody ever told me where the old Cape Palmas High School was located. My phone conversation with Cousin Joshua made me know all this.  

Cousin Joshua even pointed out to me that the late Cllr. Willie Neufville was the registrar at the time. He also told me Cousin Catherine Bedell Wood and others graduated from that old Cape Palmas High School building. “Boy!” would I have known all this had I not called Cousin Johsua? Probably not!

Cousin Joshua added something interesting things to my history lesson. I didn’t know the late Cllr. Willie Neufville was a registrar at Cape Palmas High School and the late Joe Bush served as principal at that time. All this time all my thinking was that Cllr. Neufville only practiced Law. And I always thought the late Joe Bush became Principal of Cape Palmas High School in the mid-70s. Because I think Mr. Bush held on to this post on to the doorstep of the 80se before he relinquished it.

Until Cousin Joshua drilled me through this history lesson, I never knew all this about Cape Palmas High School, Cllr. Willie Neufville and Mr. Joe Bush. I’m sure I am not alone in this experience. There are other Marylanders and Liberians as well who were in my shoe until now.

Thanks to Cousin Joshua for the history lesson. We will indeed cherish it! 

Donald Trump Says We Live In “Shit Holes” In Africa, Is He Lying?

Let’s call a “spade” a “spade.”

The current President of The United States of America, Donald Trump, just referred to Haiti and Africa as “shit holes.” Then “bang!” some Liberians are upset and are calling him names.

I am here to say, the man is right. In some part of Africa, we really live in “shit holes.” Let’s take Liberia as an example, go to The Borough of New Krutown (the Ocean is eating up the entire land mass), West Point (Atlantic Ocean is taking away the land), Doe Community, Waterside and other parts of Monrovia; these are truly “shit holes.” I am not saying this to put down the poor people living in there. They just can’t help it! The government and their so-called educated children are selfish and lost!

Even though there are some “shit holes” in America too, but not as bad as ours. So the statement is entirely true about us. It is not racist!

I remember on a talk show, another Liberian took me up to task claiming Liberia is a “racist” state. Because our Constitution forbids whites from being citizens. I think we’ve lost the true meaning of the word, “racism.” And so we misapply it most of the time. Liberia is not “racist”!

Trump is so right! We live in “shit holes”! Any Liberian who doesn’t see this must be blind, unreal and/or pretentious! Or it is just subliminal!

Walk along the streets in Monrovia; shit is everywhere. And this is our Capital City! The beaches ain’t no better.  Shit, shit, shit; everywhere!

Since our Fore Bearers passed on, our cities have no more beauty for lack of ordinances; at least the enforcement. From an aerial view, one can see it all. Monrovia is laid out from Ducor Hotel to the City Hall. From there on it is all “nyamanyama!” Same applies to Greenville, Harper, Robertsport …

So when Trump says we (Africans) are living in a “shit hole,” no Liberian should sweat it out or argue. Because it is entirely true. So we forfeit our rights to argue!

Why do you think our kids are dying in Libya and other parts of the world? They are running away from what their fathers have run away from – “shit holes.”

Trump has his shortcomings, pitfalls and shitty attitudes. But this is not one! We truly live in “shit holes.” And it has nothing to do with patriotism and/or nationalism or the lack thereof! It is the truth!

And that’s my opinion! What’s yours?

I am T. Gbuo-Mle Bedell, social justice advocate, victim of political persecution and police brutality speaking and working on the ground in Liberia.

The Greatest Goal That Catapulted Me To Stardom and Glory!

(June 12, 2001, USA)

They called him "S. Polly" and "Sakota baby." See, as a baller in Liberia, fans and/or supporters call you names that describe your persona on and off the ball pitch. But something strange happens: each time people grow up, they tend to reject those names. I don't know whether or not this baller still answers to these names. One thing I know for sure, that's how they called him in the day.

There are ball legends today that I know that no more answer to balling names. If you ask me why, I'll say your guess is good as mine and that sociology will be left alone to best explain it.

"S. Polly" as he was called, has a legal name. And his legal name is Sam Bedford. Does the name ring a bell to you? Well, whether it does or not, you will be hearing this name a lot in this balling story. Please adjust your seat belt.

I knew Sam Bedford faintly in Colonel West; Colonel West is an enclave in the Borough of New Krutown. And the Borough of New Krutown is a suburb of Monrovia in Liberia. Sam and I were balling for two different ball clubs in the Borough. He balled for Sakota and I balled for Debamu. The names of both ball clubs spell tribal and sectional connections.

I think "Sakota" is Kru. And "Debamu" of the Glebo tribe. In fact, I personally founded, played for and led Debamu. Besides the given-name being of Glebo origin, I wanted it to be Maryland oriented. But as I grew up and began to see things differently, I changed the configuration and nature of the Ball Club.

I think Sam is Kru and I'm of the Glebo background. Even though all of this tribal categorization did not matter to us as young ballers trying to have fun, but it surely did matter much to most, if not all, of the fans and sponsors of both clubs in and outside the ballpark.

I don't know whether or not it was an accident. But Sam was balling for a Kru ball Club and I was balling for a Glebo ball club. And the both of us came from those two backgrounds. So if this was by accident, then we leave all with history and time to heal the wounds. Because we were young. And we couldn't help but to play ball with friends for the fun of it and at the same time compete.

That's the level on which I got to know Sam Bedford - we were all ballers playing in the Borough of Krutown. We balled for two strongly supported sectional and tribal ball clubs.

After Krutown we grew up both in age and balling skill. I got to know Sam a little bit better than before. We climbed the balling ladder together on the national platform. We balled in the same very time and it shaped our lives permanently and unforgettably in the Antoinette Tubman Ballpark.

And that's the crux of this story. It is where I took my "Gold"!

Here's how it started:

In 1980 the Military overthrew Constitutional and democratically elected government in Liberia. Liberia was then under military rule. When this occurred, I was a high school student living and growing up in Maryland, deep in the southeastern keyhole of Liberia. I was greatly touched by this event. But what could I do? Virtually nothing! Simply put, I was too young.

I know Sam must have had his own experience with the military overthrow. But I never asked him. Because we were just ballers and not worried over the politics as young folks. But later, I mean as we grew up to ask questions on national issues, I learned from questions I asked that Sam was living in Monrovia, the capital of Liberia, at the time when the Military came to power. I'm sure he saw more of the actions than I did. The military overthrow is another story for another time. So I'll leave it right there.

Prior to the Military takeover, there was something called an Annual Intercounty Sports Meet. It was established many years prior to military rule. It was all for young people and youths as well as elders to compete and have fun through sports and athletics. Every year everyone looked forward to this Tournament for fun and spectacular ball display. All counties around the country participated  on all levels. In the end, one county came out as Champ.  In  the end, one county came out as Champ  in the area  of Football and other areas had their Champs. But Football topped the shelf of all Championships. Please don't ask me why.

When the Military took over, it suspended the Tournament. But mind you, by the time the military came to power, this tradition was closed to thirty years old. So it became difficult, if not, impossible for the Military to keep its grip on the suspension. Two years after the takeover, the Military hosted its first Annual Intercounty Sports Meet in 1982. And that's when I made my debut and slapped myself into the ceiling of ballplaying achievement in Liberia.

Here's how it happened:

Before I go any further, I have to mention this:

Most of the time people who are expected to play on a county's ball club as athlete happened to be the citizens of that particular county. It did not mean that counties could not pick up ballers from other counties who were considered "good" to ball for counties other than their own. Otherwise, why would a good baller not play for his county when he is one of the best and his county is competing for the championship and needs the best?

Let's find out in my case. Because my case makes it better understood some of the problems in Liberian sports.

It is two years in 1982 when the Military took over leadership of the country. Its first Annual Intercounty Sports Meet is about to take place. I have graduated high school and moved to Monrovia from Maryland to embark upon my academic sojourn. But I had to go back to Maryland to join the county Ball Club and come to Monrovia for the Tournament. My intent was made clear: I wanted to add my skills and everything else I could command to the Ball Club to help win the championship. But something interesting happened: I was turned down by younger ballers of the County Ball Club. According to them, I was "too old." Mind you, I just left the county in two years. How quickly did I get that "old"? I tried, but could not convince them. So I returned to Monrovia.

From that point of rejection by my county, my subsequent departure to my return to Monrovia, everything started to take shape in my balling life. In fact, ambivalence was the baseline.

Before I forget, let me say here that the ball club that I ended up balling for was Grand Kru. And  it had just become a new additional county in the country one year after the Military took over. But before Grand Kru became a county, it was once a total part and parcel of Maryland. And so, we have family, neighbor and friendly ties cut across both lands.

From this, something happened that will make appear as if I betrayed Maryland for Grand Kru.

After Superintendent G. Wahmle Elliott delivered to me the sad news that the young ballers of Maryland would not be accepting me to play for the Ball Club, my old Club that I have suffered for over three years, I had no choice but to leave Harper on the next Flight to Monrovia. I was heartbroken but still encouraged myself. I was still young and could more on the ball pitch than anyone could imagine.

Then Bang! I hit the James Spriggs Aero Port. And right there I saw three coaches (Lawson and Patrick Teah and Solomon...). They were from the Grand Kru Ball Club waiting to see me. If I didn't know better, I would have thought these great legends of Liberian football set everything up for my Hometown to reject me for me to ball for the new county. Otherwise, how did they know I was arriving on the aero port from Maryland turned down by my county? Did they know all this and if they did, who told them? There has to be an answer to this question. But I propose we leave that for another story tomorrow.

These three coaches wasted no time seeking my membership on their Ball Club. I could see it in their eyes - they were hungry for ballers. They asked and didn't hesitate to respond in the affirmative. Why did I respond so fast? Simple! I was young; I wanted to play ball; and I love the ballgame so much I would play anytime, anywhere and just for anybody. So why hold myself down mourning thee rejection? I couldn't punish my young self with all my skills and trainings.

The next day I was out for rehearsal. And this was on the old Bame ball pitch in Doula area, heading towards the O.A.U Conference Center.

If I am not mistaken, this area where we were rehearsing is also part of the Borough of New Krutown.

During the rehearsal my skills became very visible to the liking of the coaches. They were impressed. They got what they wanted. They saw something in me I discovered later on through their guidance. They are former great ballers and legends. And so they knew what they were doing and what they were looking for. They had sound judgment dealing with the ballgame.

Soon all the preliminaries were set and I became a registered and integral member of the 1982/83 Grand Kru Ball Club. And I was ready to pull myself by my boots strap to glory.

There were a lot of us playing ball in the Borough. Several of us comprised of the Grand Kru Ball Club. Kringer and I were on top of the Forward line. Believe me; Kringer had a dangerous left foot. His shots could not be held by no goalie on earth. He being on the Ball Club with me upfront, Grand Kru was set to go.

We played and won all our Zone games. We were qualified to go the Semi-finals.

We were a new county. But trampled over all the old counties we met, ballistically speaking.

But we met our most turning point of our balling lives in the Tournament. After we did a superb job from the onset kicking out some of the best ball clubs in the Tournament, we had to play a game that would send or deny us the Finals. And that game was against Montserrado County. The game was a "MUST WIN!" We had to beat Montserrado or we would forfeit the right to the Finals. And this was the condition and opportunity that shot me up into the ceiling of ball achievement.  

The game, as universally accepted, is a 90-minute game. We played to a goalless tie in the first half. The Second half came and still there was no goal scored by both ball clubs.  When the time was five minutes left for stoppage time of the game, something miraculous happened. And let me tell you what happened.

Please follow me on this one. WARNING! Don't blink. Or you'll miss the best part of this whole piece of history.

Remember the name Sam Bedford? I mentioned this name earlier in the story. Well, this name is about to take its historic place. So don't miss anything from hereon. This is the masterpiece!

Well, I think Sam Bedford was playing on the flanks or midfield on the Ball Club. I don't really remember actually what position he was playing. More so, in the last five minutes of the ballgame, every baller on the pitch was running everywhere the ball bounced. Everyone was looking for the WINNING goal to take us to the Finals. And so it didn't really matter anymore where each one found himself as long as the ball was around that area. The game was at a point when it was no more necessary for anyone to keep sitting in his position waiting for the ball to show up. In fact, the goalie came out to take some indirect and direct kicks. That's how badly we wanted this game. We were fighting with all we could lay our hands on just to go to the Finals. We had come too far and could not afford to go home with tails between our legs. Besides, our fans and supporters had done too much to accept a defeat.

You remember I told you we beat most of our qualifying games and tie some? Well...

Keep in mind, the Borough of New Krutown was proud of us. You know basically why? All the other Kru ball clubs including Sinoe County were knocked out of the Tournament very early. The only ball club in the last part of the Tournament for the Kru and Glebo people was Grand Kru? And so the expectations were very, very high.

Could we deliver to our people the goods? Let's find out as the ball game went from stage to stage.

Only five minutes left for the ballgame to be over. And if we did not score a goal, Grand Kru would have fought like a Lion from the beginning and go out like a Sheep. We couldn't allow this. At least, this is what was running through my mind. I didn't know how the other ballers were thinking. But I'm sure they had the same feeling.

When I looked on the Stadium, the fans and spectators began to leave. The minutes to stoppage time had dropped to three minutes. And fans and supporters could not swallow this any longer. They were disappearing from the Ballpark one-one-by-one.

One thing I learned in my balling career  is Liberians just can't stand defeat. All the Kru people I knew and supporters as well, evaporated suddenly. But all our coaches were still there. I couldn't hear anymore. The coaches were talking. The only thing that sent their messages to me was their hands as they moved them to and fro. Then I looked on the other side; our sponsors were looking sad. I saw Dr. Boka, Mrs. Mabel Greene; they seemed to be mourning. Then bang! the unthinkable happened.

Three minutes left into stoppage time, a foul was called. We were defending the goal towards Public Works. And we were striking towards the goal towards Rally Time Market.

Please follow me! Don't give up. The good part is coming!

The foul is called. The remaining minute is three. We are striking towards the Rally Time Market goal. And the foul is directly in front of the VIP Stadium seats. Who's taking the free kick? I'm running around the goal line of our opponent's and the defenders are trying to distract me.

Just like Pele's goal that he scored as a penalty kick. The entire Ballpark and the world stopped to see what would happen in that short period of time. God was watching carefully; most fans and spectators had left the Ballpark; they had given up on us.

And then the whistle goes like "preeee" for the kick to be taken. I can remember now.

Sam Bedford was taking the kick. He stepped few steps backward; he lifted his head as if to say he was telling me or the other guys something like, "please put your big head right into this ball for us to get the goal."

I must have understood what came from within Bedford. Some sort of energy was vibrating from him. All I can remember now is, this whole episode came in slow motion. And this how it appeared; I suddenly left the ground; I went above everybody else in the goal area of our opponents; and I towered over the entire defense of Montserrado. When I looked down from up there where I was, everyone was beneath my feet. And Sam Bedford had just put his foot into the ball. I saw the ball coming in slow motion and I'm still suspended in the air; it seemed to me then the Law of Gravity was suspended by God. And so I spent quite a long time up there waiting for the "Sam Bedford Chip." By this time, ten thousand things were running around my brain as to what to do if the ball got to me. And this is within a short time for us to do what would absolved in the annals of history -  score the goal.

As soon as it landed, the Ballpark lights almost damage me; they went into my eyes and I blinked for a split second. When I open my eyes, the darn ball was right on my forehead. I had only one choice: turn my head little bit around and push the sucker in the 90 degree angle. And that was just what I did. Then I decided to come down. On my way down to the ground, I heard a loud roar. It was like from the throats of millions of people. It went like this: Goa...........................................................l!!!!!! Then bang! I touched the floor of the field. Next thing I come to know, my feet were off the ground again. And they never touch the ground until we hit the Borough.

From that day, it was set Grand Kru was destined to go to the Finals against Grand Bassa. I remember that much. Because, the defender of Grand Bassa was the best in the Tournament. And I had him to contend with. He tried, but it didn't work. I slipped between his fingers all along the way to the capturing of the championship. After all was said and done, the Finals was over and Grand Kru County, a new county, became the first champ after the Military overthrow. I am proud to have been a part of that Ball Club.

That single goal did a lot. It paved my way to Mighty Barrolle and The Lone Star. That goal was spectacular! Sam Bedford set it up and I sent it through the woodwork. It sent Grand Kru to the Championship and gave her the Championship. That goal gave Grand Kru its first championship in Liberia. Special thanks to Dr. Boka, Mrs. Mabel Greene and the late Swanzy Elliott. There were many others who helped steered and administered the Ball Club to Championship. But it's been too long now. I don't remember everyone. But to them I tip my hat! It is because of them I author this story with the deepest pride.

To all our coaches,

Go Grand Kru Go! 

Our One-Man Peaceful Nonviolent Protest March On Harper City

Our One-Man Peaceful Nonviolent Protest March denouncing Hon. Betsy Kuoh-Toe, current superintendent of Maryland County, hands-in-gloves with the Central government of the Republic of Liberia, in the strongest possible terms, was a resounding success.

The March began at 10am from Downtown Harper City and ended at the Cape Palmas High School Campus on March 30, 2016.

Our first stop was at the United Nations Mission in Liberia commonly known as “UNMIL” where we delivered a Statement making our case and asking the world Organization to intervene for an immediate and speedy investigation in the case of Hon. Kuoh threatening my life, lying on me that I “badmouthed” His Excellency Amb. Joseph N. Boakai, Vice President of the Republic of Liberia and adding that the fact I personally met with “Team Cummings of Liberia – TCL” in my private home, I indeed “undermined” the Ellen Johnson Sirleaf government. Besides, the lies, innuendoes, inflammatory statements from the Superintendent, she added more insult to the injury when she placed a Yale lock on my office door without my consent or that of my bosses thereby committing Felonious Restraint.

A man whom I have not met in my entire life by the name of Mr. Alex B. Cummings, understandably, will vie for the office of President, come 2017 Presidential election. His friends met with me and sought my support. I am at liberty to decide who I will support in the upcoming election in 2017. More so, on that same day I met with “TCL,” The Alternative National Congress Party (ANC), of which I am a bona fide member appointed me as its Acting Chair for the Maryland chapter.  In no time, the Liberian government became jittery and began to terrorize me. But I’m measured up to the task!

Our next stop was at the St. Theresa Convent at the Catholic Secretariat to meet with Bishop Andrew Karnley, Bishop of the Catholic Cape Palmas Diocese. We delivered a Statement to him asking the Church to intercede before all hell breaks loose. Bishop Karnley received the Statement and said he would wait until the Superintendent gets back to Liberia from the United States where she is visiting for the second time since her appointment. What we don’t know is when she will return. There are rumors, she will quit her job and remain in the US.

USAID was our next stop where we delivered a Statement for the United States Embassy.

The last was at the 4^th Judicial Circuit Court to deliver a Statement to the Resident Judge, Cllr. Nelson Tokpa for the Hon. Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of the Republic of Liberia, His Most Honor Cllr. Francis Korkpor, Snr. We appealed for the respect for the Rule of Law in Maryland and speedy investigation.

Interestingly, the County Attorney’s office is now conniving with the Superintendent’s office after admitting to all of us that the Superintendent’s office was wrong under the Rule of Law to lock my door without my consent. To date, the County Attorney is saying he cannot sacrifice his job in the name of the Rule of Law.

Our final stop was on the Cape Palmas High School Campus where we concluded with a Press Conference in the presence of ELBC, INQUIRIER Newspaper, Radio Phoenix of Tubman University and Voice of Pleebo.

We made our position clear that Hon. Betsy Kuoh-Toe is incompetent and ill-trained to run the state of affairs of current day Maryland including her entire staff. We asked the President to recall them or leave Maryland to perish under the gust of ill-wind.

We have planned further legal, constitutional and democratic actions against the incompetent staff of our Local government in due course.

After committing Felonious Restraint against me, the Superintendent is finding it rather difficult to remove the lock illegally placed on my door. I am pursuing the Rule of Law; and she’s evading it. In fact, no one wants to own to the responsibility of the lock in her office.

Maybe the living room fairy placed the lock on my door!

To add more insult to the injury, Mary Broh unlawfully terminated my pro bono service to country on grounds that I refused to take monetary pay. I worked for ten months pro bono in the service of country and she could fathom that. 

Mary Broh will be prosecuted in due course. We are only taking our time to follow the cannons of the law of the Republic.

ALUTA  

Our One-Man Peaceful Nonviolent Protest March On Harper City

Our One-Man Peaceful Nonviolent Protest March denouncing Hon. Betsy Kuoh-Toe, current superintendent of Maryland County, hands-in-gloves with the Central government of the Republic of Liberia, in the strongest possible terms, was a resounding success.

The March began at 10am from Downtown Harper City and ended at the Cape Palmas High School Campus on March 30, 2016.

Our first stop was at the United Nations Mission in Liberia commonly known as “UNMIL” where we delivered a Statement making our case and asking the world Organization to intervene for an immediate and speedy investigation in the case of Hon. Kuoh threatening my life, lying on me that I “badmouthed” His Excellency Amb. Joseph N. Boakai, Vice President of the Republic of Liberia and adding that the fact I personally met with “Team Cummings of Liberia – TCL” in my private home, I indeed “undermined” the Ellen Johnson Sirleaf government. Besides, the lies, innuendoes, inflammatory statements from the Superintendent, she added more insult to the injury when she placed a Yale lock on my office door without my consent or that of my bosses thereby committing Felonious Restraint.

A man whom I have not met in my entire life by the name of Mr. Alex B. Cummings, understandably, will vie for the office of President, come 2017 Presidential election. His friends met with me and sought my support. I am at liberty to decide who I will support in the upcoming election in 2017. More so, on that same day I met with “TCL,” The Alternative National Congress Party (ANC), of which I am a bona fide member appointed me as its Acting Chair for the Maryland chapter.  In no time, the Liberian government became jittery and began to terrorize me. But I’m measured up to the task!

Our next stop was at the St. Theresa Convent at the Catholic Secretariat to meet with Bishop Andrew Karnley, Bishop of the Catholic Cape Palmas Diocese. We delivered a Statement to him asking the Church to intercede before all hell breaks loose. Bishop Karnley received the Statement and said he would wait until the Superintendent gets back to Liberia from the United States where she is visiting for the second time since her appointment. What we don’t know is when she will return. There are rumors, she will quit her job and remain in the US.

USAID was our next stop where we delivered a Statement for the United States Embassy.

The last was at the 4^th Judicial Circuit Court to deliver a Statement to the Resident Judge, Cllr. Nelson Tokpa for the Hon. Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of the Republic of Liberia, His Most Honor Cllr. Francis Korkpor, Snr. We appealed for the respect for the Rule of Law in Maryland and speedy investigation.

Interestingly, the County Attorney’s office is now conniving with the Superintendent’s office after admitting to all of us that the Superintendent’s office was wrong under the Rule of Law to lock my door without my consent. To date, the County Attorney is saying he cannot sacrifice his job in the name of the Rule of Law.

Our final stop was on the Cape Palmas High School Campus where we concluded with a Press Conference in the presence of ELBC, INQUIRIER Newspaper, Radio Phoenix of Tubman University and Voice of Pleebo.

We made our position clear that Hon. Betsy Kuoh-Toe is incompetent and ill-trained to run the state of affairs of current day Maryland including her entire staff. We asked the President to recall them or leave Maryland to perish under the gust of ill-wind.

We have planned further legal, constitutional and democratic actions against the incompetent staff of our Local government in due course.

After committing Felonious Restraint against me, the Superintendent is finding it rather difficult to remove the lock illegally placed on my door. I am pursuing the Rule of Law; and she’s evading it. In fact, no one wants to own to the responsibility of the lock in her office.

Maybe the living room fairy placed the lock on my door!

To add more insult to the injury, Mary Broh unlawfully terminated my pro bono service to country on grounds that I refused to take monetary pay. I worked for ten months pro bono in the service of country and she could fathom that. 

Mary Broh will be prosecuted in due course. We are only taking our time to follow the cannons of the law of the Republic.

ALUTA  

My Helicopter Flight with Liberian President S. K. Doe: Sports or Politics?

(March 10, 2001)

In Liberia, football is the leading ballgame. And it’s our pastime.

I think football is also the leading game in most countries around the globe. So when you are a baller in Liberia, your greatest achievement and/or desire (at least during my day) is to feature on The Lone Star Ball Club, which is the Liberian National Ball Club.

By reaching the level of Lone Star, a baller then hits the ceiling of ballplaying in the country which is the highest achievement of one's balling career.

In my day (I mean just in the 80s) at least that's what I knew; playing pro ball on an international level wasn’t our greatest thirst. It wasn't a popular idea. We wanted to play for Lone Star. And that was it! After all was said and done and we played for the Lone Star Ball Club, we indeed considered our ball job done. The rest was history. And there’s where I reached – playing for Lone Star when I crowned my football success story.

Having reached this point, a strange and interesting thing happened to me that will never be forgotten by me, my kids and generations yet to be born. And what happened to me is what prompts this authorship.

Before going to the issue of my Flight with President Doe and all I experienced, let me first start from the onset that gave basis to what happened on board the helicopter.

See, I originate from Maryland County. By this, I mean it’s my birthplace. It is in the keyhole and deep in the belly of the southeastern region of Liberia. And there’s where my parents were born and reared. And there’s where they have their last resting places.

I spent most of my formative days there. During my growing up days, I took part in almost every extracurricular activity; from ballplaying, singing in school and church’s choirs to student political activism, eating contest and more. Essentially, I went the proverbial nine yards in community activities. So I learned a lot as a kid. By the way, it made me an independent thinker and a patriot.

It all started in 1980. I graduated high school at the top of my class. I think they call that the "Valetudinarian." So I was supposed to speak on behalf of the class during the Commencement. That’s the tradition!

But interestingly, there was a twist of events.

I speared headed the committee that selected the Commencement Speaker whom the Faculty did not want. I don't know much about today’s generation of students; in my day you better get on the "good" side of the Faculty. Or else, you'll be on the "losing end."

When we selected the Commencement Speaker, the Faculty didn’t think he was the “right” one. And that placed me on the “wrong” side of the Faculty. They took away my First Place Award and pushed me down to Second Place. In Second place you are referred to as the "Saletudinarian." So traditionally during the Commencement you introduce the Speaker. That’s it!

Being the man I have always been; I'm not easily moved by neither big nor small things. The reason has been because God has empowered me to create and recreate anything I want. So I let the Faculty have its way. After all, I was graduating and moving on to other parts of life. So why worry over something I could not change overnight.

During the Commencement I was instructed to ONLY introduce the Commencement Speaker and say nothing more.

I agreed. As a kid you have nothing much to say. And during those days, our parents believed in the Faculty of the school and respected them highly. There’s nothing you can say against an instructor that your parents will buy from you. In their minds of mind, the instructor was ALWAYS RIGHT! And so, there was no need taking any complaint against an instructor to your parents. I just had to do what the Faculty asked me to.

The Commencement speaker arrived on the aero port from Monrovia. I got that info quickly. I went on the aero port. There I met the Speaker. The Speaker brought with him his profile. It was well-typed written and organized. I noticed it was very loaded with achievements. So I had nothing much to do as far as typing and compiling anything. The Speaker made it easy for me. But the Faculty kept track of me. It wanted to know what I was preparing up to the last minute of the Program. Did I write a short speech or jotted down some notes for me to use during the Program? It wanted to know. So it monitored me throughout.

Why did the Faculty tried unsuccessfully to humiliate me?

Well, if you asked each of them today, they probably will give different reasons. But in my own opinion, they had a justifiable fear. As a student activist, I was explosive. “Explosive,” not as in a TNT explosion, but politically speaking. I took the Faculty up to task on a regular basis. And so by inviting the Minister of Education as our Commencement Speaker, they thought I would expose them.

But they learned quickly that they were as wrong as they could be. I wasn’t going to expose them.

Another thing the Faculty realized in the end was that it couldn't really stop me from saying what I wanted to say once I embarked the Podium and the Program began. Because at that point, all eyes from the Minister of Education to all the top brass local government officials and students were watching. And so all the efforts it made to break me did not succeed. In fact, I beat them to the game and I benefitted from that brief “struggle” between us.

I introduced the Commencement Speaker. But before that, I said all that I wanted to say. And all I said was positive. The Faculty realized that and applauded me. Out of all that, I won me a Government scholarship.

This is what I did during the Commencement:

Prior to introducing the Speaker, I delivered a very powerful extemporaneous speech. And it touched the soul of everyone in the Hall including the Speaker. The crowd in the Hall totaled one thousand people. The applause sounded like noise from the throats of ten thousand spectators at a ballgame. Suddenly, I stole the entire show. The show was all mine. I felt possessed by Godly power. I felt like speaking in tongues. Nobody could believe what was taking place at this Commencement. I too could not believe it. But it happened! And the rest became what would shape my life afterwards.

In the end of my introducing the Speaker and making salient points about Liberia’s future and past, I took my seat. But before taking my seat, the Speaker got up at the podium and offered me a scholarship from the Liberian government to travel to a sister-African republic, the then Socialist Republic of Ethiopia. From that announcement on to the days I make specific mention of, my life underwent a dramatic change. I would never be the same person anymore.

Here’s how it all turned out to alter my life.

The very Government that offered me the scholarship began to refer to me as “enemy” of the state. Even though this action by the Liberian government did not scare me, but it was serious. Still I had to go on with my life. The situation altered my perspective of life in a strange kind of way. The Government could do nothing to stop me in my quest for better education and better life nor stop me from being who or what I wanted to be in life. As a young man just graduating high school and taught by my parents to forge my future in earnest, I was going to do what I always wanted to - further my academic studies and remain an independent thinker.

After graduating high school in Maryland, it was customary that one goes to Monrovia or other places to further his or her academic studies. Having received the scholarship and graduated high school, I went to Monrovia. But I was on the Maryland County Ball Club for the Annual Intercounty Sports Meet. I had not yet graduated from the ballgame. Because I was still young and enjoying sports.

This was another interesting twist.

Normally, after the Sports Meet in Monrovia, all of the ballers returned to Maryland to get back to school. And I always did in the past. But this time, I was set not to return to Maryland after the ballgames. I had graduated high school and was on my way to college. I had a scholarship to pursue in Ethiopia. Even though this wasn't college, but it was just a beginning of what would take me to college and beyond.

When I got in Monrovia for the Intercounty Sports Meet, I went on camp with the Ball Club. Usually, all the ballers are placed in a quiet area to save them the distraction. I don’t know if this area that was selected for us to camp (Chief Compound on Camp Johnson Road) did save us the distraction. But there’s where all the athletes were stationed.

My dad was at the Capitol. He was residing in Harper City. But his work brought him to Monrovia. Every recess, he went back home to see his lovely wife, my mom and the children. After each game I went to visit with the old man. And he always was proud of my performances both in school and in the ballpark. He always listened to the commentary on the radio every time I played for Maryland. Hearing my name ringing on the ball field over the radio in a spectacular manner made him feel good. But one thing he never missed on; he never missed on advising me to enhance my education. Initially, he had a problem for me to play ball. Because he wanted me to pay attention to schooling. But when he discovered I was doing exceptionally well in both areas, he didn’t mind anymore. In fact, he was one of my best cheerleaders.

Since I came to Monrovia to play ball for my county, I did not shy away from that responsibility. I was always on the starting squad. Which means I must have been a good baller. Because there were other great ballers on the Ball Club. Selecting me over them gave me a real sense of responsibility. I had to deliver for my county. I think I played three ballgames for Maryland that particular Season. Because the Scholarship preparation activities interrupted my ballgame.  

And here’s how the interruption happened.

During one of the games, I was asked off the ball field to go to the Public Health Center to get my shots for my Yellow Book for my possible travel to Ethiopia. I felt really bad. Because I was enjoying my ballgame when I was called off the pitch. But I managed it. I went with the folks sent from the Ministry of Education. We went to Public Health and I got my shots. From experience, the shots would knock one’s knees together like a feverish child. Because they were powerful. And it did happened to the other guys who went with us. Some took fever and stretched in their beds. As for me, the following day, I was on the ball field playing ball. I was called off the field again. This time, it was for me to go to the Ministry of Education to sign my Passport. It was in the Evening. I went there and signed my Passport. That’s when it hit me: that it was true I was en route to another country. It was becoming more truer and serious that the Ethiopian scholarship was real. Because initially, I never took it seriously.

Next thing I come to know, I was on my way to Ethiopia along with other folks, some of whom I've never met in my lifetime. Some were university freshmen; some were juniors and some were seniors at the University of Liberia and Cuttington.  I was just a high school graduate. So I had another level of education to go through. Almost all the guys on the trip to Ethiopia were very smart. I was glad. Because it was good for my mind.

I think it was a weekday when we headed for the Roberts International Aero Port to take off to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. That Evening, all roads led to the Roberts International Aero Port. And zoom, we took off to Ethiopia. I did not complete my ballgames. Later on I learned Maryland did not go to the championship. It hurt me. Because it was my strongest desire to take Maryland to the championship. But she dropped out and did not make it there. Thanks to the other ballers I left behind who kept the Maryland Flag still flying.

Lots of strange things happened centered on my trip to Ethiopia. But what happened and what did not happen had a tremendous impact and forever changed my life.

Not to go into the knitty-gritty of my Ethiopian trip, I will move on to my subsequent return and how President Doe and I met to ride the same helicopter that will be the only flight of any Liberian baller on planet earth to ever appear on a ball pitch for a game in along with the President of the Republic.

This piece of history ought to be significant. But it developed in a twisting manner. And that’s the point that makes this authorship unique in itself.

There were too many ripples for a young man of my age at the time to deal with. But I had to. My dad used to quote a Biblical phrase. And it goes like this. “Man proposes, God disposes.” This phrase guided me throughout. And so if anything had changed other than how I wanted it, I was ready to handle it to the best of my ability.

After all the progress I made both on and off the ball field, I was selected on the nation's number one Ball Club - the Lone Star and then to Mighty Barrolle – a Premier Ball Club.

After few games and training sessions on the Lone Star, a game in The Antoinette Tubman Ball Park was set. We, the Lone Star, were encamped at the Holiday Hotel on Carey Street, two minutes drive from the Ball Park.

The Minister of Youth & Sports was Hon. John Beh. He worked with us. But for some unknown reason (s), on the day of the game for which we were camping, Hon. Beh came to the Hotel at 2pm and asked us to embark the waiting bus for the Ball Park. We were confused. Because the game was set for 5pm. And where we were camping was a one-minute driving time to the Ballpark. Why did we have to leave the Hotel going to the Ball Park at 2pm? If we got to the Ballpark at 2:05 pm, we would have waited extra three hours for the game to begin. And this wasn't making any sense to us. All we did was to wonder and ask questions that young people will always ask when they are confused.

The Minister kept telling us to keep quiet and just go on the bus. And we did. If you knew Hon. Beh (may his ashes rest in peace) he was an aggressive and a very friendly man. He was always in a happy mood passing instructions. In fact, he referred to himself as a “bulldozer” without “reverse gear.” When he wanted to do something, he just went ahead and did it. As a result, he accomplished a lot for Liberia in sports and other areas. So we had to follow his instructions.

As we went on and on, things kept twisting. There was another twist: the bus pulled off from the Hotel parking lot heading towards Sinkor. And Sinkor is the opposite direction to the Ball Park. Our confused state of mind increased.

What was going on, we asked? Could somebody tell us? Why were we leaving for the Ball Park at 2pm when the game is scheduled for 5pm? And from our camping area is one minute driving time to the Ball Park. Worse of all, we were heading in the opposite direction. We were not heading towards the Ball Park. Definitely we were spaced out. But we remained on the bus looking over the windows like frighten boys scout until we turned into The James Spriggs Aero Port. As we pulled in, we began to see military personnel dressed in uniform and well-armed. It didn't make things easy for us. We knew for sure we were not being taken to the firing squad. Because we did nothing to warrant that, even though we were in a military government.

No one told us we were flying to another country for the game. Put all of these together and we were as confused as an army fleeing defeat.

Suddenly, all our fears and all the other stuff were put to rest.

The bus we were riding pulled in the parking of the Aero Port. And Minister Beh walked to us and asked us to enter the Terminal. But before that, we heard Hon. Beh on his walkie-talkie saying, “Bulldozer calling tiger, over” I think “tiger” on the other end answered. But Hon. Beh replied, “You can’t use your own ingenuity?” And we all broke up laughing. At that time when he was on the radio, we were walking with him into the Terminal. As we walked in, the quality of military men along the path improved. It seemed like the President was around. Soon, it became true. Indeed, President Doe was around. He was waiting on us!

As soon as we entered the Terminal, the President came and embraced us. He was all smiles. He asked us to take a soft drink each. We did. While cooling off, each of us received brand new gears - t-shirts, shorts, socks and boots in the nation's color (red, white & blue).

President Doe did something that made us feel important. He told us how much respect he had for us and that's why he brought us on the Aero Port to fly on the Ball Pitch. Some of my colleagues got scared. They had never flown before, let alone in a helicopter. This would be their first. And it was bound to be new. I don't remember what exactly was running around my brains. I don’t know what I was thinking that time. But I knew for sure, I had no choice whether to fly or not. All I knew was I was ready to play some ball. At that time, my ballplaying spirit was darn good!   

The helicopter began to flap its propellers. It was well-positioned at the take-off spot. A Caucasian (white man) was the pilot. Then zoom, it took off. It took the first trip. I wasn’t on it. Then it was the second. I wasn’t on it. I don't remember how many trips were made. But I know for sure, I was on the last trip with President Samuel Kanyon Doe. And normally, when the President keeps you to ride with him, it means you are a good baller and he wants to use your popularity to add more to what he was doing. And that's when this story gained its credence and momentum.

My life from that point took another dramatic turn.

Two other colleagues were on board with me. I don't remember them now. I mean I don't remember who may have been with me on that trip. I have forgotten everyone else besides the President. Of course, when you ride with a President of a country, no matter who else was on board, you can never forget the President was on board. Because he is the reason why we were flying in the Antoinette Tubman Ballpark. More so, if you had a memorable experience with the President, that experience will never ever elude your memory nor fade away quite easily.

It was our time to board the helicopter. And it was provided by AMOCO – an oil company in Liberia. I am not sure who got in first. Probably it was President Doe. All in all, we were several hundred feet off the ground. Looking down from the helicopter, Monrovia and everybody else were beneath our feet. Only God was above us. By this time, I felt like Edison Arantes do Nascimento, better known as Pelé.

I could not imagine; here I am; just coming from the keyhole of the country; now I am wearing the National colors and riding in a helicopter with one of the most powerful men on earth and he is the President of my country and the first citizen. No one, as far as the annals of Liberian ballplaying history can hold and present, has ever flown in a ballpark in the Republic of Liberia from 1847 to present. I thought to myself “I am making history!” All of this beat every stretch of my imagination as a teenager. My mother was in Cape Palmas listening to the radio. Her son was riding with President Samuel Kanyon Doe and landing in the Antoinette Tubman Ballpark. This is something all the good ballers that came before my time had never experienced. History was in the making!

My ballplaying spirit was beyond description. I was so fired up. I wanted to hit the ground and walk in the opponents goal majestically to make my President proud. After all, before the game ended, I did that. And President Doe was proud of me. That’s when my invitation to see him at his Executive Mansion residence was confirmed.

On the Flight, we had Secret Service agents. They were well-dressed and clean like a whistle. They too seemed to be in the same good ball spirit like all of us.

All of a sudden two things happened that will forever remain indelibly printed on my mind:

First, President Doe asked my permission to start the game in my position as striker. And then he said, after playing his part on the field, I could then come in.

Could I say “no”? No! I couldn’t. So I agreed to his proposal. Remember, he is the President of the Republic of Liberia and one of the most powerful men on earth who can say “die” and there you are. He had his own t-shirt and I had mine. So he didn’t take mine. I was still in my gears as I was when we left the Aero Port.

Then the second thing happened. And that’s the crux of this authorship.

President Samuel Kanyon Doe looked at me and said, “So you were militarily trained in Communist countries to overthrow me?” He asked this question looking me straight in the eye.

I was shocked and petrified. From a good ballplaying mood I quickly drove into fear. Now, put this into perspective: This is the President of the Republic of Liberia; the first citizen; one of the most powerful men on mother earth; a military man turned politician; and a man of a troubled history of many abortive coups asking me such a direct question? What could I say?

Notice, when the President asked me this question, I have just crossed my teen. I was really, really enjoying my ballgame and not too much about politics. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been on such a flight with the President of the Republic of Liberia.

His next question was, “So you are trained to come and killed me?” Now he’s looking me right in the eye when he’s asking these terrible questions. When I look on the other side, I see his security men. They weren’t laughing. He too wasn’t laughing. I knew I was in deep trouble for traveling to a sister African country that is socialist. I couldn’t reverse that part of my history. It was true I traveled to a socialist country. But was I trained to “kill” him? That wasn’t true. But how do I say it to him so he doesn’t get upset. We were several hundred feet off the ground. where we were, no one knew what was happening up there. This was between him, his security, God and me.

Suddenly, I recaptured myself. I made an attempt to respond. I said to him, “Mr. President, I did not go to any country to be trained to come and “kill” you.” In addition, I further said, “Mr. President if this were true, would I be on the ball field everyday playing ball and riding with you on this helicopter? If anyone said this to you, Your Excellency, it is not true!” He looked at one of his trusted men on board. And I saw him wear a smile. Then he drew me closer and rubbed my head and said, “Son, even if someone try to fool you, don’t do it. Because it will not be good for you and the country! Come on, let’s go and play some ball! Don’t forget, after the game, come to see me at the Mansion! You hear me!” I nodded my head and said, “Yes sir, Your Excellency! I will. And thanks Mr. President!”

Next thing I come to know, we were dropping very low in the Ballpark and I could hear the crowd going wild and shouting the President’s name.

See, this was the very first time a ball club ever landed in a ballpark since 1847 when Liberia became an independent state, even before that time. So it touched the souls of Liberians everywhere even those that were not watching the event live but listening to the radio in the keyhole of the country. The “awes” and “wows” were great!

As a young man with not too much on my mind, I forgot very quickly that the President of the Republic had put fear in me. I was back in my ballplaying mood. I was fired up. I was making history. And I didn’t want to be left in its wretched path. We dropped down on the pitch with the President and we began to warm up. I’m sure he and his security were still watching me and thinking of something else. But for me, I was geared up for the ballgame. This is a onetime thing. It doesn’t come around all the time. Even though I was too young to know much about this, but I was enjoying it. I was having a ball.

“Preeeee” went the referee’s whistle for the game to start. I was on the Bench as a sub-player. President Doe was in my place. He was young. His energy level was great. So he was doing exceptionally well on the pitch. At one point, I forgot I was one of the ballers of the game. Suddenly, President Doe left the pitch and Coach JNJ called me in. Remember, I got carried away with the pageantry and the President’s skills and sportsmanship till I forgot I was there to play myself. I took off my boots and was just sitting on the Bench when I was called in right away to replace the President.

The game stopped as the President walked off the field with standing ovation. The noise from the throats of thousands of people confused me. I couldn’t locate my ball shoes. When I found it, the game was stopped for more than 40 seconds. Boom! I was on the pitch. And boy-o-boy, I was possessed. My first encounter was a header that vibrated on the aluminum pole thunderously. By then I knew the “die was cast.” I had to score, and I did!  

After the game, I used my invitation to visit the Executive Mansion. The President was eager to see and speak with me. At least, that was my impression. We ate and drank together. We talked on the same issue he raised with me on the helicopter and I responded by saying that my career was ahead of me. If I wanted to be a politician when the time arrived, I would. But for now, I was enjoying my youthful days playing ball and pursuing my academic education.

After all, I learned one good thing about the man, the politician and the leader. He was good in all the areas. His problem was, like most leaders, the people around him were not good at all. 

In my opinion, President Doe was the best President of this country that changed the notion people had about ballers. Most people referred to us (ballers) as “grona” boys, which means we were useless folks running around with no goal other than street life. Doe gave us our true meaning and worth. Had President Doe lived when Liberia was faced with the challenge to go to the World Cup, based on my experience with him, Liberia would have gone and possibly brought the Trophy. It was during Doe’s administration we knew we were a great ball nation. And that we were capable of roaming all ballparks around the world starting from the S. K. D. Sports Complex to Wembley Stadium.

Samuel Kanyon Doe is gone forever. But we are still a great ball nation. There will still be more “George Weahs” and “Thomas Bedells.” But never again will there be another Samuel Kanyon Doe. He was unique in himself and came in his own time that no one can emulate.