I am in Harper City right now as
I opine this Article. I am here because I came to help make President Sirleaf’s
visit to Maryland County grand. The last time (I am told) the President’s visit
was not well-handled by those in charge. Few persons missed their assignments. So
food was served late. Protocol was behind time. Chairs were not in their proper
places. And all the other good things that make a President’s visit grand were
a little bit off track. And so this time, I came to help to make it better.
Marylanders have pride. I know this. And so I’m under obligation to make it
better for all of us. After all was said and done, the occasion was proclaimed
“very successful.” The President was happy! Marylanders were happy! I too was
happy! One of our greatest sons who has been very instrumental with doable
change, Archie Richelieu Williams, director of civil aviation, Liberia and I
worked together to make this event grand. I’m grateful to him for his ongoing
support for better programs for our people. When everything was over, the
President left town. She proceeded to Grand Gedeh. But I remained in Harper. I
wanted to stick around and get a feeling of how things were evolving in the
community. Then the case of ritualistic killing came about. I was compelled to
stick around more. I wanted to see this case. I saw the one in the 70s. That
time I was in Harper during the arrests, prosecution and execution of those who
were considered “guilty.” I was very young then. So I did not have the
experience and academic education that I have today to make any sound judgment.
This time, I consider it an opportunity to be here. I can compare notes of both
cases and see what most likely went wrong in the 70s and what could go wrong
again this time. But as it has always been during my working visit to Liberia,
all kind of serious issues erupted just when I was ready to leave Harper. These
sorts of happenings always caught me in an awkward position.
Here is one:
On April 21, 2010, I was on my
way to complete a Proposal that I’m writing at an Internet café. This café is
sponsored by the Catholic nongovernmental organization called, Caritas. On my
way, I noticed in the middle of the streets sits scattered asbestos. A piece of
zinc fell from the top of the building. And next thing I come to know, asbestos
is everywhere in the streets.
See, the prior night, there was
wind. It was strong as a bull. It blew so hard, tree branches came breaking
like Popsicle sticks. As an Occupational Safety/Health expert, the presence of asbestos
immediately captured my attention. I knew right away what was going on. I knew
this was a question of life and death! And so I got concerned. I left my
Proposal project and began to find the EPA, UNMIL civil affairs offices as well
as the City Corporation and Local government. And this is where I found myself
in a Those-see-partner-way kind of dance. The UNMIL civil affairs office was
closed. When I asked where they were, the security told me they went to a
seminar at the City Hall. So I went to the City Hall. I didn’t see them. And no
one knew where the UNMIL civil affairs employees were. Somebody said, “They
gone to drink some beers, somewhere around the block!” I laughed and the person
too laughed. Then I passed on. I went to the Superintendent’s office. I asked
for him. The man behind the desk said the Supt went home. This was around 2pm
Liberia Standard Time. I asked if he could call the Supt for me because my
phone was not with me. I placed it on charge at a booth Downtown. See, when
your cell phone battery runs down in Liberia and you are not at home, you send
it to a charging booth. Cause there’s no 24-7 electricity in the City.
Everything else is runs by portable electric generators.
The fella in the Supt office told
me he couldn’t call the Supt. Why? He told me because he did not have credit on
his phone. See, cell phones in Liberia are mostly prepaid. So if you run out of
credit, unless you purchased more credit, you cannot call out. This was the
fella’s condition. So I asked him to beep the Supt. You can ONLY beep a person
if you have few cents on your cell. I think it’s 50 cents. But the fella told
me the Supt instructed them never to beep him. Because if any of them beeped
him, he wouldn’t know the caller ID. So, he could not help me. Then I asked him
to direct me to the EPA’s office. He did. I knocked on the door. The EPA County
coordinator let me in. I presented the asbestos situation. It was in the streets.
I told him cars, including UNMIL vehicles, were running all over it as if it possesses
no harm to the human person. I impressed upon him how serious this is. While
responding to me, I noticed he’s a soft-talking man. He tried to thank me. It
took so long to let out his words, I lost patience. The asbestos was in the air
already. And the more the asbestos got in the air, the worse it became for all
of us including the EPA coordinator and the UNMIL staff. Soon he realized I was
inpatient. I wanted immediate attention. So he quit thanking me. He thought we
go to the site for him to see the asbestos. I got a bit upset and asked him to
join me find UNMIL civil affairs staff. In my mind, these people (UNMIL) understand
more about asbestos than the man I was talking to. And the fact that their
lives (UNMIL) are also involved in the situation, they would take immediate
action. The EPA coordinator agreed. We went to the seminar. He entered. I did
not. I told him I would remain outside waiting for him. Soon when he entered,
he surprised me. He took a seat. I started tripping. I began to act like a
traffic man. I began waving my hands trying to call his attention. He looked
and he came over to me. I asked what he thought he was doing. He asked me to
wait for the seminar to end. Because by so doing, we can get the UNMIL staff.
This was his idea. I rejected it. I went
downstairs to find the City Mayor. She wasn’t in her office. I went to the
Assistant Supt for Development’s office. She too wasn’t in. Just when I was
getting weary and trying to walk out of the City Hall, I saw the Assistant Supt
driving in front of the City Hall. I stopped and approached her. I explained
the same thing. Then I’m reminded that she too is a soft-talking person. As she was talking, I walked
behind her until we got in her office upstairs. She was just in jail for falsely
being accused of ritualistic killing. And so, her spirit was a bit down. I knew
that. So I didn’t want to pressure her. But she has a job to do. I quietly
walked behind her. When we got in her office, she asked me what I wanted her to
do. I asked her to contact the EPA Coordinator. And she did. The Coordinator
came to her office. She asked him to check out the situation and take
appropriate action. The Coordinator asked me to follow him. We headed
downstairs. As we got down, I saw a white girl. In my mind, she should be
working for one of those international nongovernmental organizations or UN. I
was right. She works for the Carter Center. I stopped her. I told her what I
saw and the help that is needed. You know what she told me? She said, “I work
for the Carter Center. I cannot help you!” That’s when it clicked my mind,
either she had no clue what asbestos does to the human person or she was just
being insensitive to the wellbeing of the people in the area. Or she is just plain
dumb! Whatever the case was, I knew we all were in danger. And something needed
to be done ASAP!
The Coordinator came over and
asked me what the white girl said. I told him what she said. Then he giggled! He
told me his sad experience with white folks in these kinds of situations. We
took off to the spots where the asbestos was. At the first spot, we stopped and
I showed him. At the second spot, I showed him. Then he alarmed at the second spot.
It was a good amount of asbestos. And it was scattered. He stopped his motor
bike. I got off and he did. Next thing I know, he was talking with the owners
of the house where the asbestos came from. He asked them to remove it. As an expert, I knew it was wrong to ask ordinary
persons to remove asbestos. But there was nothing he could do. His office has
no equipment and trained staff. He did what he could do to ask the house owner
to remove the asbestos from the street. The person he was talking to is a kid I
used to know during my formative days in Harper. But the kid is grown now. He’s
a landlord. This guy was laughing at the Coordinator as he explained to him the
danger of asbestos. The guy wanted to know why the Coordinator was so concerned
of removing the asbestos. In fact, why was the coordinator saying he (landlord)
should apply water and wet the asbestos prior to removing it? It wasn’t
sounding right to him. It was sounding funny to him. So he kept laughing.
That’s when I jumped in. I re-emphasized what the Coordinator was saying. The fella
anxiously asked, “Is this that serious?” I said, “Yes!” He looked me hard in
the eye for a second and then tried to change his attitude towards the
Coordinator. He tried to make an effort to work with the Coordinator. While he
and the Coordinator were talking, I left. I had some things to attend to. On my
way out, I began to convict myself on the inside. And this is what I was saying
to myself on the inside, “I am an occupational safety/health expert. But Here I
am; I can do nothing besides complain to the Government about asbestos sitting
in the streets for several hours. But like the Coordinator, what could I do
other than bring this to the attention of the Authority? Virtually nothing!
This is the kind of danger we face every day in Liberia.
The next day I discovered something
worrisome. The Coordinator himself did not take the asbestos issue seriously as
he impressed upon me. How I know? Previously, he told me the asbestos in the
streets was finally swept away. When I got in the area to check, asbestos was
still everywhere in the front of Methodist Church. I asked him why? He said the
Church promised to sweep it. But it did not. Then something clicked my mind.
His motor bike ate up my shoes. The bike is so old and faulty it has no
foot-rest. So while riding with him to the location of the asbestos, my shoes
got caught in the spooks. And it ate up the back of my shoes. I showed him my
shoes. When he looked at my shoes, he just smiled as if I should have known
this is Liberia and that’s how things go. As a soft-talking man, he talked as
if he’s nonchalant. But I believe he means well. I suspect because of the lack
of national support and involvement in the Environment, he feels helpless.
As I opine this article, the
asbestos is still flying in the streets of Downtown Harper. Evidently, tens and
tens of our citizens including UNMIL staff, local government and myself have by
now inhaled airborne asbestos. Who knows? Only God knows what’s going to happen
and for how long!
I am Thomas G. Bedell writing from on the ground in Liberia!
