LIBERIA

the message of hope

When an idea continues to come back to me through people or stories or events, I try to pay attention. (After all, part of how I ended up in Liberia was because I suddenly started meeting MANY Liberians. It was a neat way my heart was drawn to the suffering of the people and of how I really began to see the need for storytelling in Liberia.) I'm not superstitious. Maybe it's just the way my English major mind works or maybe it's how God uses circumstance and people to teach us.  But I like picking up on the new "themes" running through my life. I believe that I have much to learn from those who have gone before me, and I look for ways to connect my struggles with the wisdom out there.

This week, the message I'm picking up on is hope. I've been thinking more critically about my reporting. I've really been challenged to think about the message of hope in my stories about Liberia -- whether it's there or there enough. As a reporter, it's so easy to be drawn to all of the destruction and pain and needs of Liberia. I think reporters need to tell stories like that -- to inform a readership that doesn't get regular opportunities to learn about what is going on in places of real suffering.

But it's also true that suffering is not the only story. There are so many stories of hope. Redemption still is at work, although sometimes its movement is more subtle. Thoughts?

Also, see the two video clips below that are helping me to think about the message of hope in storytelling.

danger of a single story

Listen to this powerful talk on the "danger of a single story" by Nigerian author Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, who is speaking in D.C. this week! It has made me think about how I write stories about Liberia ...

the new african narrative

I saw this documentary last night. It is powerful. The film tells the stories of five African leaders who are working to change their communities. The message is one of hope in the midst of complete destruction. I encourage you to watch this film! Check for screenings on the Pray With Africa website. Liberia is the first country featured. And see the trailer below!

a waving flag

When I get older, I will be stronger.

They'll call me freedom, just like a waving flag.

And then it goes back, and then it goes back, and then it goes back.

Born to a throne, stronger than Rome

but violent prone, poor people zone.

But it's my home, all I have known.

Where I got grown, streets we would roam.

But out of the darkness, I came the farthest,

Among the hardest survival.

kid photogs

Here are a few shots from some of my friends in my old neighborhood in Sinkor. These children practiced taking photos with my camera. Many Liberian children LOVE taking photos or getting their photo taken ... I have wondered if part of the reason they love photos so much is because they don't get regular opportunities to see what they look like ... there are few mirrors in Liberia. They did a great job ... and kept me laughing! Enjoy!

 

 

 

 

goodbye Micheal J

or "Michael Jax," as my Dad told me I used to call him.

I've written a story about the King of Pop and how many Liberians loved his music because it comforted them and uplifted them in the face of war. The story was published in The Washington Times today.

Read it here.

one year ago today ...

I arrived in Liberia for the first time.

It's hard to believe it's been a year! I've learned so much, I've made so many wonderful friendships and I've had the privilege of telling some heartbreaking stories. As I've told the stories of so many Liberians recovering from war, I've been on my own journey of healing. God has blessed me deeply in giving me a heart for His most broken people and bringing me all the way to Liberia to show me how He can comfort and restore and give new life.

Here's a look back at what I've learned ...

winning attention

I've been thinking about this passage this week as I evaluate the way I write the story of the Liberian people. This is a good reminder to me of the point behind writing about the different ways of life here -- ways that sometimes seem curious or even wrong. But I am reminded that my goal is not to just write about something for the novelty of it or to in any way put down a nation of people recovering from terrible civil war.

baby bendu

"Hello, baby!'" (pronounced "bay-bee") "How the day?" I attempt to greet in Liberian English a little girl named Bendu, who lives in my community in Monrovia. 

"Alright-o!" she says.

"What my name? You remember it?" I ask her.

"White woman," she says confidently.

I laughed! Bendu is a sweet, five-year-old girl who is full of giggles. Almost every day I visit her house, which is across the street from my apartment. She runs toward me, her arms outstretched and nearly knocks me over when she gives me a hug. She is the sweetest neighbor ever. One day, I hope she will remember my real name!

Baby Bendu: Despite living in such poverty, Bendu is full of joy and laughter.

a fine sunday

It was a fine Sunday. I spent it with Hawa and her two sons, Henry and Tarwoh. Hawa, whom I call “Prof” sometimes because she is my cooking teacher, and I made “ground pea soup” for her family and about 20 other people in her community. We cooked 15 cups of rice!