Here’s what I know of malaria – it makes me feel like “shyte”. And, I’ve got it again – damn the mosquitoes. I’ve started my round of malaria meds and will be back on my feet again in a week or so… and will update all when symptoms calm down.
From the World Health Organization website – accessed on a day when I’m barely able to lift a finger to keyboard… but must take advantage of power and internet connectivity.
Malaria is caused by a parasite called Plasmodium, which is transmitted via the bites of infected mosquitoes. In the human body, the parasites multiply in the liver, and then infect red blood cells.
Symptoms of malaria include fever, headache, and vomiting, and usually appear between 10 and 15 days after the mosquito bite. If not treated, malaria can quickly become life-threatening by disrupting the blood supply to vital organs.
Key interventions to control malaria include: prompt and effective treatment with artemisinin-based combination therapies; use of insecticidal nets by people at risk; and indoor residual spraying with insecticide to control the vector mosquitoes.
From the World Malaria Report – 2009.
• Half of the world's population is at risk of malaria.
• An estimated 243 million malaria cases occurred in 2008.
• An estimated 863 000 malaria deaths occurred in 2008; 767 000 of those (89%) occurred in Africa.
From the Malaria Foundation International.
• Malaria is estimated to cause 300- 500 million clinical cases and over one million deaths each year.
• Every 30 seconds, a child somewhere dies of malaria. In any given year, nearly ten percent of the global population will suffer a case of malaria.
• Most survive after an illness of 10-20 days.
• Children are especially vulnerable to malaria. In Africa, where 80% of malaria cases are treated at home, the disease kills one child in twenty before the age of five.
• Pregnant women are also at high risk. They have an increase risk of disease and death, as well as adverse impacts for their developing babies- including low birth weight, growth retardation, still births and death.
• In African countries, up to 60% of hospital admissions may be for malaria; that's 6 out of 10 admissions!
I’ll survive because I’m a fortunate “pink” and can afford the medication, get to a pharmacy, take a day or two off work and get someone to bring me bread and water. For many of my neighbours, children, workers and non-workers in Sierra Leone, their options are far fewer. It’s scary out here…
Horizontal
S/
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Saturday, February 6, 2010
The Beatles come to Sierra Leone
When did Ed Sullivan announce the Beatles arrival to North America? When did the British invasion of pop music and the Beatles start? All I know is that the broadcast – often reported as “the most important musical event in history” – was recorded in black and white – and four lads from Liverpool took the stage in black suits and ties.
Okay… if you remember, you’re probably a little older than I am now… February 9, 1964, to many, is as memorable as the day Kennedy was shot in Dallas. “Where were you when???” Sunday, February 9, 1964 was the day the Beatles made their first appearance on North American television. And, needless to say the day was memorable and monumental for many people.
Why am I writing about this… early February 2010??? Well, this February, in Freetown, Sierra Leone, I introduced the Beatles to a country that seems to have missed the British musical invasion – perhaps a backlash against the British colonial influence through the 1800s and 1900s. I’m no Ed Sullivan and it wasn’t on national television… but I can claim my place in Sierra Leone’s musical history.
I was invited to attend a graduation ceremony for a neighbour who completed her studies from the Camp Vocational Centre for Women in Food and Nutrition. A two year certificate program that carries significant weight around here. In fact, any certificate from any educational institute is important here… I won’t get into the state of education – yet – but needless to say it’s rather atrocious. This event was important – to understate the obvious.
At the party following the graduation, held at the Bentina Restaurant and Bar in Aberdeen across from the beach, the music was loud, the celebrants beamed, family and friends proudly presented gifts to the graduates… and people danced, ate and drank in merriment. Anticipating a rather painful musical experience, I prepared a CD – a “plate” – of music from Canada, which included Mae Moore, Brian Adams, the Tragically Hip, the Bare Naked Ladies, Leonard Cohen, etc. It also contained several songs from the Beatles, the Rolling Stones and Bob Dylan.
I should back up a bit… and explain what I mean by “painful musical experience”. Here in Sierra Leone, they love their music LOUD, often to the point of distortion. They love “digital” music created on synthesizers with heavy disco beats – repetitive drumbeats and electronic sound effects. It’s not quite disco and not quite rap. It’s not quite hip-hop and not quite pop. But, it’s incredibly popular. People love music here… and kids, young people and adults often sing, dance and gyrate unabashedly in the streets – to music videos blaring from market stalls and shops on the street.
I have to say, I’m not exactly a fan of the music here… (“cultural music aside, of course), hence my preparation of “good” music for the party. I presented the disk to the DJ – DJ Power Aziz – and asked if he’d have a listen and at some point play a selection. He dutifully listened to a few pieces and announced that while he liked some of the music, he couldn’t play anything because “no one else would like the music”.
Later that evening, after everyone had eaten and taken to the dance floor, I requested a song – “All You Need Is Love” – by the Beatles. I figured it was about as “Africa-friendly” as possible – understandable lyrics, a decent beat, memorable melody, etc. The DJ relented, after a small donation to the musical sound set, and the dance floor quickly emptied. I couldn’t believe it… so I grabbed a young girl, Yanda, the 10-year-old daughter of another neighbour, and we happily spun, twirled and “shook our money-makers” to the Beatles.
Interestingly, after Yanda and my dance (following significant ridicule for being the white guy who can’t dance) and the resumption of the (loud, distorted) heavy electronic drumbeats, I asked folks if they’d ever heard of the Beatles… NOT ONE PERSON had ever heard anything like that song or knew anything about the Beatles. And so I tried to explain – the biggest selling musical group ever – the most popular musicians ever – the biggest money-makers… all of which fell on deaf ears as did the song, “All You Need Is Love”.
My curiosity was peaked… and I asked two journalism classes at Fourah Bay College – students between 21 and 35 years – if they’d ever heard of the Beatles. One had – because they regularly listen to a BBC affiliate radio station here who sometimes play “oldies”. Thus another assignment was born – find and review a Beatles song for a local newspaper. It’ll be interesting to read their responses…
So, forty-six years after the Beatles hit the television airwaves in North America, they’ve now landed in Sierra Leone – to a warm, sunny and humid reception, hopefully. I may not be Ed Sullivan but perhaps I’ve introduced “the long and winding road”, along “Abbey Road”, “day tripping”, in a “yellow submarine”, “with a little help from my friends” and “all my loving”, hoping “we can work it out”.
Sorry, I couldn’t resist.
Stephen
Okay… if you remember, you’re probably a little older than I am now… February 9, 1964, to many, is as memorable as the day Kennedy was shot in Dallas. “Where were you when???” Sunday, February 9, 1964 was the day the Beatles made their first appearance on North American television. And, needless to say the day was memorable and monumental for many people.
Why am I writing about this… early February 2010??? Well, this February, in Freetown, Sierra Leone, I introduced the Beatles to a country that seems to have missed the British musical invasion – perhaps a backlash against the British colonial influence through the 1800s and 1900s. I’m no Ed Sullivan and it wasn’t on national television… but I can claim my place in Sierra Leone’s musical history.
I was invited to attend a graduation ceremony for a neighbour who completed her studies from the Camp Vocational Centre for Women in Food and Nutrition. A two year certificate program that carries significant weight around here. In fact, any certificate from any educational institute is important here… I won’t get into the state of education – yet – but needless to say it’s rather atrocious. This event was important – to understate the obvious.
At the party following the graduation, held at the Bentina Restaurant and Bar in Aberdeen across from the beach, the music was loud, the celebrants beamed, family and friends proudly presented gifts to the graduates… and people danced, ate and drank in merriment. Anticipating a rather painful musical experience, I prepared a CD – a “plate” – of music from Canada, which included Mae Moore, Brian Adams, the Tragically Hip, the Bare Naked Ladies, Leonard Cohen, etc. It also contained several songs from the Beatles, the Rolling Stones and Bob Dylan.
I should back up a bit… and explain what I mean by “painful musical experience”. Here in Sierra Leone, they love their music LOUD, often to the point of distortion. They love “digital” music created on synthesizers with heavy disco beats – repetitive drumbeats and electronic sound effects. It’s not quite disco and not quite rap. It’s not quite hip-hop and not quite pop. But, it’s incredibly popular. People love music here… and kids, young people and adults often sing, dance and gyrate unabashedly in the streets – to music videos blaring from market stalls and shops on the street.
I have to say, I’m not exactly a fan of the music here… (“cultural music aside, of course), hence my preparation of “good” music for the party. I presented the disk to the DJ – DJ Power Aziz – and asked if he’d have a listen and at some point play a selection. He dutifully listened to a few pieces and announced that while he liked some of the music, he couldn’t play anything because “no one else would like the music”.
Later that evening, after everyone had eaten and taken to the dance floor, I requested a song – “All You Need Is Love” – by the Beatles. I figured it was about as “Africa-friendly” as possible – understandable lyrics, a decent beat, memorable melody, etc. The DJ relented, after a small donation to the musical sound set, and the dance floor quickly emptied. I couldn’t believe it… so I grabbed a young girl, Yanda, the 10-year-old daughter of another neighbour, and we happily spun, twirled and “shook our money-makers” to the Beatles.
Interestingly, after Yanda and my dance (following significant ridicule for being the white guy who can’t dance) and the resumption of the (loud, distorted) heavy electronic drumbeats, I asked folks if they’d ever heard of the Beatles… NOT ONE PERSON had ever heard anything like that song or knew anything about the Beatles. And so I tried to explain – the biggest selling musical group ever – the most popular musicians ever – the biggest money-makers… all of which fell on deaf ears as did the song, “All You Need Is Love”.
My curiosity was peaked… and I asked two journalism classes at Fourah Bay College – students between 21 and 35 years – if they’d ever heard of the Beatles. One had – because they regularly listen to a BBC affiliate radio station here who sometimes play “oldies”. Thus another assignment was born – find and review a Beatles song for a local newspaper. It’ll be interesting to read their responses…
So, forty-six years after the Beatles hit the television airwaves in North America, they’ve now landed in Sierra Leone – to a warm, sunny and humid reception, hopefully. I may not be Ed Sullivan but perhaps I’ve introduced “the long and winding road”, along “Abbey Road”, “day tripping”, in a “yellow submarine”, “with a little help from my friends” and “all my loving”, hoping “we can work it out”.
Sorry, I couldn’t resist.
Stephen
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Missed and Missing…
Well, I’m back in Freetown, Sierra Leone – having returned to my “second home” just a week ago following a wonderful visit back to bustling Toronto and the chilly climes of Canada. I missed the warmth and sunshine of this place… not to mention the friends and colleagues I’ve managed to connect with over my previous seven months in “sweet Salone”.
I know I’ve been remiss with my postings to this blog and my letters to friends and family in Canada. Sorry… Or, “osh-ya” in Kreole, which means, “I’m sorry. I beg of you.”
The past few months here – from about the middle of October through to the end of my original contract on December the 15th - were very hectic… to understate the obvious. I’d “hit my stride” as they say and workshops for local journalists, teaching at the university, meetings, etc. got the better of my time and limited resources. It was good, however, and I honestly felt I was having an impact, making in-roads and noticing the positive influence I was having on the state of media and human rights here in Sierra Leone. Okay… the world didn’t change. Sierra Leone journalists didn’t miraculously learn to report and write and broadcast. And much of what I was up to wasn’t easily recognized… but I noticed. I’ll try to update everyone on those “noticeables” when I get another chance.
One thing that did change was the status of Sierra Leone on both the Human Poverty Index and the Human Development Index, according to the UN… Sierra Leone was ranked last/worst… for several years. And, while I was here, sometime between July and December 2009, Sierra Leone rose to second last on those listings. Afghanistan is now worse than Sierra Leone… for obvious reasons, and I’m taking sole credit for this miraculous surge in development. (kidding)
What I wanted to write about were the things I missed about Freetown while in Canada… and there were many. Of course the first, and now ever present, sun and warmth. I’m sitting outside on the verandah, in the dark, in shorts and a tee-shirt – wiggling my toes in sandals. It’s the middle of January… and I can’t even imagine wearing a parka, scarf, boots and mittens.
I missed the street life. Here, everyone lives, works, sleeps, eats and lives their lives outside… in markets, along streets, in courtyards, on the beach, etc. It’s an outdoor culture, which makes for interesting and lively walks to and from places. Yes, I walk everywhere here… or mostly everywhere. And, I missed that. While I was in the Toronto area, I had to drive everywhere – things were so far apart and I couldn’t help notice the lack of street life and the few people venturing from car to house or shopping mall to car.
I missed the food and have now had my re-fill of rice, cassava leaves, potato leaves, palm oil, fresh and dried fish, and of course, the sting of hot African peppers in everything. It’s a wonderfully simple diet I’ve become accustomed to over these months. And, eating once a day seems to suit me just fine…
I missed the many friendly faces who greet me on almost every corner. Freetown and Sierra Leone are open places where people greet each other on the street and ask, “how are you?” at every opportunity. I haven’t managed to accept or use the standard response, “tell gawd tenk-yee” but I always smile and respond with “plenty fine and you?” The security guards in the compound and along the hillside up from my apartment greet me warmly everyday. And, the military policeman who stands at the barracks gate always waves and bows – to which I reply with a semi-Buddhist clasp of hands or thumbs-up greeting depending on what I’m carrying that day.
I missed shaking hands with everyone I see and having conversations, holding hands, with male friends as I walk down the street. I still feel a little strange about it but I’m getting used to it. I remember walking with Andrew on the boardwalk in Toronto and thinking – if I were in Freetown, we’d be holding hands…
I missed random acts of friendliness and kindness. On Friday, I got caught without Leones not having exchanged US dollars for Leones with “my Rasta man/friend, Emmanuel” on the street corner. I was walking to a meeting, very early in the morning, and my friend who runs the neighbourhood internet café, Alpha, and I struck up a conversation. He asked where I was going… and I explained my predicament. He ended up loaning me 10,000 Leone so I could get a taxi to my meeting. I was very appreciative… especially because there’s a sign in the café that reads, “credit will be available… tomorrow”.
And, my regular retailer of peppers and groundnut at the Aberdeen market – a woman I call “Sisseh” (for sister), offered to buy me my fish from another market stall because I still haven’t learned to tell a good dried barracuda from a bad one. She takes good care of me… probably because she sees me struggling sometimes to purchase and cook African dishes like groundnut stew or drinks like ginger beer. I’d hate to know what she repeats to her family and friends about this “crazy or ignorant ‘white’ man” who buys the wrong fish or too much pepper for his suppers.
I missed the wonderfully happy, smiling three-year-old girl who hangs around with her mother at the corner store at the top of my road. Hannah loves to be picked up and tickled… and is always ripe for a giggle and a hug. The other day she was wearing her blue velvetine dress she got for Cmas… and apparently hasn’t taken off since.
I missed the little eight-year-old girls, Precious and Francis, in their green school dresses, who come by my office everyday after their classes. The church across the road hosts a government school by day and these two girls drop by and I teach them to spell a new word everyday. Their teacher, Mrs. LaHaye, is even taking note of their increased spelling prowess. On Friday they brought along a five-year-old sibling who wanted to learn how to spell. I can see I’ll soon have a gaggle of kids gathering in front of the office…
I missed the beach… I haven’t had a chance to get to the luscious beaches down the coast but I’ve briefly visited Aberdeen and Lumley beach near my apartment. There’s nothing like the sound and smell of rolling oceanic waves to soothe the icicles from of my blood. I can’t wait to venture to my two favourite beaches, Lakka and Beach Two – perhaps later in the month.
I’ve missed having to hand wash my clothes, bed sheet, pillow cases, towels, etc. (NOT) Okay… that was something I could live without, for sure, and throwing a load of laundry into my mother’s chrome washing machine was incredible. But, I’m surprised how I missed having to calculate when and how to wash my clothes.
I missed the sensation of cracking open a cold beer, taking that first slug and watching the condensation bead and roll down the side of the can on a blistering hot day. I missed sweating and having to drink at least two litres of water everyday. Weirdly, I think my bladder was in shock with the change in water intake and water retention/processing while in Canada. I’m back to sweating and not urinating… Sorry, “TMI” – too much information.
Speaking of thirst – I missed the Salone thirst for books, reading materials, knowledge and questions about where I come from and what I’m doing here. Over and over again I hear, “Sierra Leoneons love strangers” and it’s true… people here are very curious and inquisitive. And, they love to talk… “tok-tok” as they say… Canadians may be friendly and slightly curious but the reservations of most Canadians took me awhile to get used to again. We are a conservative lot, despite our wish for more liberal approaches to politics, positions and people.
Other things I missed about Sierra Leone while I was in Canada…
- Sleeping without a blanket
- Sleeping under a mosquito net
- Slathering bug repellent whenever I go out at night
- Open windows
- Crowded taxis and poda-podas
- Blue skies
- Market haggling and dickering or negotiating for a cheaper price on everything from taxi rides to rice
- Lawlessness and “official guidelines” like bribes, commissions and scams
- Heat rash
- Cold showers
- Intermittent power, darkness and no internet service
- Bugs in the kitchen
- Sand on the floor and dust everywhere
- Sweaty computer keyboards
- The sounds of croaking frogs from the sewage ditch that drains down the hill on the other side of my compound wall
- My special Salone friends; Mary, Sputnik, Elvis, Momoh, Lylla, Sulak, Arthur, and my landlords, Mala and Kishen, among many others.
And, now that I’m back in “sweet Salone” I miss certain things about Canada. But, those will have to wait for another blog-thing… and I promise I won’t wait too long.
Yours,
S/
I know I’ve been remiss with my postings to this blog and my letters to friends and family in Canada. Sorry… Or, “osh-ya” in Kreole, which means, “I’m sorry. I beg of you.”
The past few months here – from about the middle of October through to the end of my original contract on December the 15th - were very hectic… to understate the obvious. I’d “hit my stride” as they say and workshops for local journalists, teaching at the university, meetings, etc. got the better of my time and limited resources. It was good, however, and I honestly felt I was having an impact, making in-roads and noticing the positive influence I was having on the state of media and human rights here in Sierra Leone. Okay… the world didn’t change. Sierra Leone journalists didn’t miraculously learn to report and write and broadcast. And much of what I was up to wasn’t easily recognized… but I noticed. I’ll try to update everyone on those “noticeables” when I get another chance.
One thing that did change was the status of Sierra Leone on both the Human Poverty Index and the Human Development Index, according to the UN… Sierra Leone was ranked last/worst… for several years. And, while I was here, sometime between July and December 2009, Sierra Leone rose to second last on those listings. Afghanistan is now worse than Sierra Leone… for obvious reasons, and I’m taking sole credit for this miraculous surge in development. (kidding)
What I wanted to write about were the things I missed about Freetown while in Canada… and there were many. Of course the first, and now ever present, sun and warmth. I’m sitting outside on the verandah, in the dark, in shorts and a tee-shirt – wiggling my toes in sandals. It’s the middle of January… and I can’t even imagine wearing a parka, scarf, boots and mittens.
I missed the street life. Here, everyone lives, works, sleeps, eats and lives their lives outside… in markets, along streets, in courtyards, on the beach, etc. It’s an outdoor culture, which makes for interesting and lively walks to and from places. Yes, I walk everywhere here… or mostly everywhere. And, I missed that. While I was in the Toronto area, I had to drive everywhere – things were so far apart and I couldn’t help notice the lack of street life and the few people venturing from car to house or shopping mall to car.
I missed the food and have now had my re-fill of rice, cassava leaves, potato leaves, palm oil, fresh and dried fish, and of course, the sting of hot African peppers in everything. It’s a wonderfully simple diet I’ve become accustomed to over these months. And, eating once a day seems to suit me just fine…
I missed the many friendly faces who greet me on almost every corner. Freetown and Sierra Leone are open places where people greet each other on the street and ask, “how are you?” at every opportunity. I haven’t managed to accept or use the standard response, “tell gawd tenk-yee” but I always smile and respond with “plenty fine and you?” The security guards in the compound and along the hillside up from my apartment greet me warmly everyday. And, the military policeman who stands at the barracks gate always waves and bows – to which I reply with a semi-Buddhist clasp of hands or thumbs-up greeting depending on what I’m carrying that day.
I missed shaking hands with everyone I see and having conversations, holding hands, with male friends as I walk down the street. I still feel a little strange about it but I’m getting used to it. I remember walking with Andrew on the boardwalk in Toronto and thinking – if I were in Freetown, we’d be holding hands…
I missed random acts of friendliness and kindness. On Friday, I got caught without Leones not having exchanged US dollars for Leones with “my Rasta man/friend, Emmanuel” on the street corner. I was walking to a meeting, very early in the morning, and my friend who runs the neighbourhood internet café, Alpha, and I struck up a conversation. He asked where I was going… and I explained my predicament. He ended up loaning me 10,000 Leone so I could get a taxi to my meeting. I was very appreciative… especially because there’s a sign in the café that reads, “credit will be available… tomorrow”.
And, my regular retailer of peppers and groundnut at the Aberdeen market – a woman I call “Sisseh” (for sister), offered to buy me my fish from another market stall because I still haven’t learned to tell a good dried barracuda from a bad one. She takes good care of me… probably because she sees me struggling sometimes to purchase and cook African dishes like groundnut stew or drinks like ginger beer. I’d hate to know what she repeats to her family and friends about this “crazy or ignorant ‘white’ man” who buys the wrong fish or too much pepper for his suppers.
I missed the wonderfully happy, smiling three-year-old girl who hangs around with her mother at the corner store at the top of my road. Hannah loves to be picked up and tickled… and is always ripe for a giggle and a hug. The other day she was wearing her blue velvetine dress she got for Cmas… and apparently hasn’t taken off since.
I missed the little eight-year-old girls, Precious and Francis, in their green school dresses, who come by my office everyday after their classes. The church across the road hosts a government school by day and these two girls drop by and I teach them to spell a new word everyday. Their teacher, Mrs. LaHaye, is even taking note of their increased spelling prowess. On Friday they brought along a five-year-old sibling who wanted to learn how to spell. I can see I’ll soon have a gaggle of kids gathering in front of the office…
I missed the beach… I haven’t had a chance to get to the luscious beaches down the coast but I’ve briefly visited Aberdeen and Lumley beach near my apartment. There’s nothing like the sound and smell of rolling oceanic waves to soothe the icicles from of my blood. I can’t wait to venture to my two favourite beaches, Lakka and Beach Two – perhaps later in the month.
I’ve missed having to hand wash my clothes, bed sheet, pillow cases, towels, etc. (NOT) Okay… that was something I could live without, for sure, and throwing a load of laundry into my mother’s chrome washing machine was incredible. But, I’m surprised how I missed having to calculate when and how to wash my clothes.
I missed the sensation of cracking open a cold beer, taking that first slug and watching the condensation bead and roll down the side of the can on a blistering hot day. I missed sweating and having to drink at least two litres of water everyday. Weirdly, I think my bladder was in shock with the change in water intake and water retention/processing while in Canada. I’m back to sweating and not urinating… Sorry, “TMI” – too much information.
Speaking of thirst – I missed the Salone thirst for books, reading materials, knowledge and questions about where I come from and what I’m doing here. Over and over again I hear, “Sierra Leoneons love strangers” and it’s true… people here are very curious and inquisitive. And, they love to talk… “tok-tok” as they say… Canadians may be friendly and slightly curious but the reservations of most Canadians took me awhile to get used to again. We are a conservative lot, despite our wish for more liberal approaches to politics, positions and people.
Other things I missed about Sierra Leone while I was in Canada…
- Sleeping without a blanket
- Sleeping under a mosquito net
- Slathering bug repellent whenever I go out at night
- Open windows
- Crowded taxis and poda-podas
- Blue skies
- Market haggling and dickering or negotiating for a cheaper price on everything from taxi rides to rice
- Lawlessness and “official guidelines” like bribes, commissions and scams
- Heat rash
- Cold showers
- Intermittent power, darkness and no internet service
- Bugs in the kitchen
- Sand on the floor and dust everywhere
- Sweaty computer keyboards
- The sounds of croaking frogs from the sewage ditch that drains down the hill on the other side of my compound wall
- My special Salone friends; Mary, Sputnik, Elvis, Momoh, Lylla, Sulak, Arthur, and my landlords, Mala and Kishen, among many others.
And, now that I’m back in “sweet Salone” I miss certain things about Canada. But, those will have to wait for another blog-thing… and I promise I won’t wait too long.
Yours,
S/
Monday, August 31, 2009
Small and peaceful...
It started innocently enough… Michael, a young gentleman who worked diligently for my landlord and kept the courtyard and environs incredibly neat, told me about his dream to go back to secondary school to finish his education. He’d dropped out of school when he was twelve to support his mother and siblings. He speaks little English and can barely read… let alone write, in any language. But, he’s bright, quick with a smile and always very friendly and accommodating.
Michael’s situation is a very common phenomenon here and according to a recent UNICEF and Ministry of Education, Youth and Sport report titled, “The Out-of-School Report” up to 40% of primary school-aged children do not attend school, despite the government’s commitment or lack thereof to the International Convention on the Rights of the Child. In Sierra Leone, “Article 28 of that Convention (Right to education): All children have the right to a primary education, which should be free,” is a complete misnomer. It’s one thing to have the right to free education but it’s another to see it in action or make it happen.
The Report forcefully illustrates the point that poverty is the major reason for children being out of school… among the many other reasons including early marriage, child-pregnancies, bullying and harassment from peers and teachers, disabilities, sexual abuse, peer pressure, cultural tradition, and so on. So, the streets in Freetown are often flooded with young children selling bags of water (straight from an untreated water supply), household goods including soaps and medications, charcoal, etc. And, their futures are reflected in the faces of the young men who hang about street corners trying to eek out a living selling fish heads, discarded tee-shirts or mismatched shoes.
But, a small revolution is at hand and I’m proud to be a supporter…
One day, as I sat in the courtyard reading, Michael approached and sat down beside me. We exchanged pleasantries and he eventually asked me what I was reading. I replied it was a book about the beautiful, bountiful science that surrounds us. (see the reference at the end of this post) He said he was interested in science, biology and chemistry… and asked if I could find him a book on science so he could study and prepare for some sort of secondary school exam.
Initially, I must admit, I was taken aback. One of the things I’m trying to avoid is “helping out” the hundreds of people who’ve asked me for money. It’s another fact of life here in Freetown – people see the colour of my skin and immediately assume I have buckets of money and that I’m freely distributing “western aid” on every corner. So, Michael’s request didn’t surprise me but it was the first indication from him that he’d like my help. And, it wasn’t money he wanted… but a book! To study! To further his education! I couldn’t say “no, next time…” or my new favourite “polite push-off”, “I’ll pray for you.” (when people ask what religion I am I say “I’m an atheist” and they seem happy to hear… little do they know)
I came face-to-face with my conviction to help in a sustainable way and to avoid contributing to the “aid mentality” that’s so prevalent in this country. However, a book… a lasting, sustainable and helpful instrument… that, I could justify.
So, the following day I wandered down Garrison St. near the Victoria Park market, amidst the dozens of street hawkers and managed to find a photocopied version of a biology textbook, written in 1980 – edition four – for Le40,000 or about $12.00. (the initial price quoted was Le150,000) I scooped it up and delivered it to Michael later that night. My gawd, you’d have thought I conjured a rain of coins… He was thrilled. And, for the next several weeks I watched his page-progress through the textbook.
A week or so later, Yousef, one of the young security guys, told me he was very interested in economics and business. I’d noticed Yousef reading over Michael’s shoulder on several occasions and felt his interest was genuine. So, when Yousef asked if I could find him a book on business, I quickly accepted the challenge. Books are a rarity here… and with a 75% illiteracy rate it’s easy to see that the market for books and reading is very small – despite the number of daily newspapers.
However, I managed to track down a very well-used, secondary school workbook on business and economics. And, Yousef was thrilled. He’s since read through that one and he’s now into a math book – probably a grade ten level – that he’s devouring. This second book was a real challenge… I was aided by a primary school teacher and neighbour, MarVel, who took me to a shack outside her school. And, because I was MarVel’s friend, the shop-owner sold me the book for Le20,000 or just about $7.00.
There’s another young man, Moses, an Okada driver who’s frequently shuffled me about on the back of his motorbike and who is very interested in football/soccer. “Moses the motorcycle man” went to school till he was about eight and has been working at a variety of “jobs” since then – almost 12 years. He regularly regales me with football stories as we zip among the traffic of Freetown. (Sometimes I have to tell him to stop waving his left hand about and hold onto the handlebars… but he’s very passionate about football.)
I was given a copy of a new book by a Sierra Leoneon footballer named Mohamed Kallon who plays in the European league and is a legend among young Sierra Leoneons. It was a promo-copy and terribly written… but it was local and just perfect for someone who had very few reading skills. (it’s written at about a grade four reading level) When I handed the book over to Moses – the first and only new book he’s ever owned – he beamed.
I guess the revolution is spreading… and yesterday another neighbourhood child asked me (Uncle Stephen because of my “silver and gold hair” and advanced age) if I could find her a book about science fiction – “space and other worlds”, in her words. She said she was in “form three” which is roughly grade eleven… That’ll be my mission, among others, this week. I think I recall seeing a photocopied version of an Asimov novel among the street hawkers near the market…
It may be a small, peaceful revolution but at least it’s a start… and who knows – maybe one day, one of these readers will evolve into the next Gordimer or Asimov or Einstein or Gates. And, like most revolutions, the initial supporters often don’t get to see the end results… but it’s the seeds of revolution that can spark eventual change.
Today I’m hopeful…
Stephen
Michael’s situation is a very common phenomenon here and according to a recent UNICEF and Ministry of Education, Youth and Sport report titled, “The Out-of-School Report” up to 40% of primary school-aged children do not attend school, despite the government’s commitment or lack thereof to the International Convention on the Rights of the Child. In Sierra Leone, “Article 28 of that Convention (Right to education): All children have the right to a primary education, which should be free,” is a complete misnomer. It’s one thing to have the right to free education but it’s another to see it in action or make it happen.
The Report forcefully illustrates the point that poverty is the major reason for children being out of school… among the many other reasons including early marriage, child-pregnancies, bullying and harassment from peers and teachers, disabilities, sexual abuse, peer pressure, cultural tradition, and so on. So, the streets in Freetown are often flooded with young children selling bags of water (straight from an untreated water supply), household goods including soaps and medications, charcoal, etc. And, their futures are reflected in the faces of the young men who hang about street corners trying to eek out a living selling fish heads, discarded tee-shirts or mismatched shoes.
But, a small revolution is at hand and I’m proud to be a supporter…
One day, as I sat in the courtyard reading, Michael approached and sat down beside me. We exchanged pleasantries and he eventually asked me what I was reading. I replied it was a book about the beautiful, bountiful science that surrounds us. (see the reference at the end of this post) He said he was interested in science, biology and chemistry… and asked if I could find him a book on science so he could study and prepare for some sort of secondary school exam.
Initially, I must admit, I was taken aback. One of the things I’m trying to avoid is “helping out” the hundreds of people who’ve asked me for money. It’s another fact of life here in Freetown – people see the colour of my skin and immediately assume I have buckets of money and that I’m freely distributing “western aid” on every corner. So, Michael’s request didn’t surprise me but it was the first indication from him that he’d like my help. And, it wasn’t money he wanted… but a book! To study! To further his education! I couldn’t say “no, next time…” or my new favourite “polite push-off”, “I’ll pray for you.” (when people ask what religion I am I say “I’m an atheist” and they seem happy to hear… little do they know)
I came face-to-face with my conviction to help in a sustainable way and to avoid contributing to the “aid mentality” that’s so prevalent in this country. However, a book… a lasting, sustainable and helpful instrument… that, I could justify.
So, the following day I wandered down Garrison St. near the Victoria Park market, amidst the dozens of street hawkers and managed to find a photocopied version of a biology textbook, written in 1980 – edition four – for Le40,000 or about $12.00. (the initial price quoted was Le150,000) I scooped it up and delivered it to Michael later that night. My gawd, you’d have thought I conjured a rain of coins… He was thrilled. And, for the next several weeks I watched his page-progress through the textbook.
A week or so later, Yousef, one of the young security guys, told me he was very interested in economics and business. I’d noticed Yousef reading over Michael’s shoulder on several occasions and felt his interest was genuine. So, when Yousef asked if I could find him a book on business, I quickly accepted the challenge. Books are a rarity here… and with a 75% illiteracy rate it’s easy to see that the market for books and reading is very small – despite the number of daily newspapers.
However, I managed to track down a very well-used, secondary school workbook on business and economics. And, Yousef was thrilled. He’s since read through that one and he’s now into a math book – probably a grade ten level – that he’s devouring. This second book was a real challenge… I was aided by a primary school teacher and neighbour, MarVel, who took me to a shack outside her school. And, because I was MarVel’s friend, the shop-owner sold me the book for Le20,000 or just about $7.00.
There’s another young man, Moses, an Okada driver who’s frequently shuffled me about on the back of his motorbike and who is very interested in football/soccer. “Moses the motorcycle man” went to school till he was about eight and has been working at a variety of “jobs” since then – almost 12 years. He regularly regales me with football stories as we zip among the traffic of Freetown. (Sometimes I have to tell him to stop waving his left hand about and hold onto the handlebars… but he’s very passionate about football.)
I was given a copy of a new book by a Sierra Leoneon footballer named Mohamed Kallon who plays in the European league and is a legend among young Sierra Leoneons. It was a promo-copy and terribly written… but it was local and just perfect for someone who had very few reading skills. (it’s written at about a grade four reading level) When I handed the book over to Moses – the first and only new book he’s ever owned – he beamed.
I guess the revolution is spreading… and yesterday another neighbourhood child asked me (Uncle Stephen because of my “silver and gold hair” and advanced age) if I could find her a book about science fiction – “space and other worlds”, in her words. She said she was in “form three” which is roughly grade eleven… That’ll be my mission, among others, this week. I think I recall seeing a photocopied version of an Asimov novel among the street hawkers near the market…
It may be a small, peaceful revolution but at least it’s a start… and who knows – maybe one day, one of these readers will evolve into the next Gordimer or Asimov or Einstein or Gates. And, like most revolutions, the initial supporters often don’t get to see the end results… but it’s the seeds of revolution that can spark eventual change.
Today I’m hopeful…
Stephen
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Sierra Leone hits Los Angeles…
We’re famous in Sierra Leone… and proof enough is this excerpt from an L.A. Times article. For the full story – and pictures – click on this site.
Check out the article at http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/world/la-fg-resort25-2009aug25,0,4391065.story
Excerpted from the L.A. Times… August 25, 2009 written by Scott Kraft
“On a recent weekend, several dozen visitors parked their SUVs in the packed-sand lot and strolled through tropical stands of palm trees to the beach. Young village workers, some barefoot and others in sandals, took food and drink orders from bathers relaxing on the beach. In the restaurant's open-air kitchen, Bendu and his crew chopped tomatoes, onions and garlic for the fish marinade and placed skewers of barracuda and shrimp on the grill. A large pot of freshly cut potatoes bubbled in oil over a wood fire. The restaurant serves whatever the fishermen catch -- for less than $10 a plate, including fries or rice.”
“Among the day-trippers that Sunday was the U.N. secretary-general's special representative and his son, a Canadian journalist teaching in Sierra Leone, Dutch relief workers and half a dozen seminary students from Nigeria, Guinea, Indonesia and Ghana.”
I’m the “Canadian journalist teaching in Sierra Leone” and I spent the afternoon with Scott and the photographer, Liz, at the beach… my usual place of Sunday worship. (although, I have to admit, the heavy rains have dampened my worship ceremonies)
Later that week, I had dinner with Scott and Liz at the Country Lodge hotel, (I’ve written about that place before) where they were staying in grand luxury, and shared an evening of journalistic triumphs and trials here in Sierra Leone.
I should also mention that I had another dinner at “the Lodge” with a delegation from War Child International who were here working on some humanitarian project. Among the group was a Canadian photographer and a “rising or emerging” pop singer named Sy-ria (or something like that) who grew up here but is now living and working in Vancouver. Ah… a taste of “home conversation” about hockey, Stephen Harper, the Canadian media environment, etc.
The “foreigners” continue to flit through Freetown and for some reason I tend to meet up to share stories and nibble on news from the rest of the world. Last Saturday, I was part of a delegation that included a Danish woman from the labour movement… and the Sierra Leone Labour Congress. We were addressing the photographic union here and discussing training curriculum and pilot projects.
I’m also doing some ongoing training for the journalists at UN Radio through my friend, Sputnik. She’s the “chief” of that UN department and while traipsing through the UN building I met another Canadian, Reg, who’s in charge of UN staff security for Sierra Leone. Yes, it always helps to know people who know people who can keep us safe.
These relatively few interactions with “foreigners” often sustain and replenish my need for outside contact… and it’s fabulous to share stories and viewpoints on Sierra Leone, West Africa, and the rest of the world. It helps me feel more connected and less isolated.
Awaiting visitors,
Stephen
Check out the article at http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/world/la-fg-resort25-2009aug25,0,4391065.story
Excerpted from the L.A. Times… August 25, 2009 written by Scott Kraft
“On a recent weekend, several dozen visitors parked their SUVs in the packed-sand lot and strolled through tropical stands of palm trees to the beach. Young village workers, some barefoot and others in sandals, took food and drink orders from bathers relaxing on the beach. In the restaurant's open-air kitchen, Bendu and his crew chopped tomatoes, onions and garlic for the fish marinade and placed skewers of barracuda and shrimp on the grill. A large pot of freshly cut potatoes bubbled in oil over a wood fire. The restaurant serves whatever the fishermen catch -- for less than $10 a plate, including fries or rice.”
“Among the day-trippers that Sunday was the U.N. secretary-general's special representative and his son, a Canadian journalist teaching in Sierra Leone, Dutch relief workers and half a dozen seminary students from Nigeria, Guinea, Indonesia and Ghana.”
I’m the “Canadian journalist teaching in Sierra Leone” and I spent the afternoon with Scott and the photographer, Liz, at the beach… my usual place of Sunday worship. (although, I have to admit, the heavy rains have dampened my worship ceremonies)
Later that week, I had dinner with Scott and Liz at the Country Lodge hotel, (I’ve written about that place before) where they were staying in grand luxury, and shared an evening of journalistic triumphs and trials here in Sierra Leone.
I should also mention that I had another dinner at “the Lodge” with a delegation from War Child International who were here working on some humanitarian project. Among the group was a Canadian photographer and a “rising or emerging” pop singer named Sy-ria (or something like that) who grew up here but is now living and working in Vancouver. Ah… a taste of “home conversation” about hockey, Stephen Harper, the Canadian media environment, etc.
The “foreigners” continue to flit through Freetown and for some reason I tend to meet up to share stories and nibble on news from the rest of the world. Last Saturday, I was part of a delegation that included a Danish woman from the labour movement… and the Sierra Leone Labour Congress. We were addressing the photographic union here and discussing training curriculum and pilot projects.
I’m also doing some ongoing training for the journalists at UN Radio through my friend, Sputnik. She’s the “chief” of that UN department and while traipsing through the UN building I met another Canadian, Reg, who’s in charge of UN staff security for Sierra Leone. Yes, it always helps to know people who know people who can keep us safe.
These relatively few interactions with “foreigners” often sustain and replenish my need for outside contact… and it’s fabulous to share stories and viewpoints on Sierra Leone, West Africa, and the rest of the world. It helps me feel more connected and less isolated.
Awaiting visitors,
Stephen
Friday, August 28, 2009
The power of words…
We are all aware of the power of the pen – or in many cases the potency of the pixel. Words have the power to enlighten, no question, but they can also be used to confuse… used for good and for evil. I’m not talking about a language barrier – this time. I’m talking about jargon… it’s rampant and annoying and confusing.
And, all you have to do is randomly list these “jargon-y” words… and somehow donors give, NGOs salivate, politicians are elected and the “development community” grows. I sometimes feel like I should create a document listing all these jargon words with instructions to order them any way you see fit…
For example… “Please use these words, in any order, when considering our development organization for funding… capacity building, stakeholders, facilitating civil society, NGOs, INGOs, organizational, structural development, training, engagement methodology, implement, consortium, humanitarian initiatives, strategic objectives, engaging project affected peoples, opening dialogue…” Well, you get the picture. None of this makes any sense but look at what “makes sense” to those involved here.
From a vacancy advertisement in Premier News, issue 446.
“… to undertake a conflict sensitivity capacity assessment of a consortium of NGOs and to review/document Case Studies on Conflict Sensitive Approaches (CSA) in Sierra Leone. The consultancy will develop an Assessment Methodology; provide expert support to the Consortium members during CSA self-assessment, setting Change Objectives and developing partner agency Capacity Building Plans.”
Have your eyes glazed over yet? By the second sentence you should be fully lulled into a hypnotic trance… and then, almost subconsciously, I hit you with my funding request.
Here’s a quote from a funding application I received… Oh my, what am I supposed to think?
“… is intended to strengthen the practice of SGBV (something to do with gender-based violence – or wife-beating, more specifically) sensitivity throughout and beyond a broad consortium of humanitarian, peace-building and multi-mandate development NGOs.”
Perhaps it is a language barrier… pontificating beyond understanding as a way of achieving one’s end and sometimes filling one’s belly. Yikes.
From “ENCISS – Enhancing the Interaction and Interface between Civil Society and the State to improve poor peoples lives (ENCISS),
The purpose of the ENCISS Programme is the increased capacity of representative civil society to participate in, influence, contribute to and monitor the Poverty Reduction Strategy and Local Government policy, planning and implementation, and strengthen capacity of the Government of Sierra Leone to engage in constructive dialogue with civil society within these policy frameworks. The focus of ENCISS will be improving the interface between state and non-state actors.”
Please forgive my innocence and ignorance… but honestly, what are these people really doing? Say what you mean and communicate it clearly for the rest of us, please!
Searching for clarity – beyond the gobbledegook, blather, chatter, prattle, drivel, double-talk, gibberish and development-speak.
Stephen
And, all you have to do is randomly list these “jargon-y” words… and somehow donors give, NGOs salivate, politicians are elected and the “development community” grows. I sometimes feel like I should create a document listing all these jargon words with instructions to order them any way you see fit…
For example… “Please use these words, in any order, when considering our development organization for funding… capacity building, stakeholders, facilitating civil society, NGOs, INGOs, organizational, structural development, training, engagement methodology, implement, consortium, humanitarian initiatives, strategic objectives, engaging project affected peoples, opening dialogue…” Well, you get the picture. None of this makes any sense but look at what “makes sense” to those involved here.
From a vacancy advertisement in Premier News, issue 446.
“… to undertake a conflict sensitivity capacity assessment of a consortium of NGOs and to review/document Case Studies on Conflict Sensitive Approaches (CSA) in Sierra Leone. The consultancy will develop an Assessment Methodology; provide expert support to the Consortium members during CSA self-assessment, setting Change Objectives and developing partner agency Capacity Building Plans.”
Have your eyes glazed over yet? By the second sentence you should be fully lulled into a hypnotic trance… and then, almost subconsciously, I hit you with my funding request.
Here’s a quote from a funding application I received… Oh my, what am I supposed to think?
“… is intended to strengthen the practice of SGBV (something to do with gender-based violence – or wife-beating, more specifically) sensitivity throughout and beyond a broad consortium of humanitarian, peace-building and multi-mandate development NGOs.”
Perhaps it is a language barrier… pontificating beyond understanding as a way of achieving one’s end and sometimes filling one’s belly. Yikes.
From “ENCISS – Enhancing the Interaction and Interface between Civil Society and the State to improve poor peoples lives (ENCISS),
The purpose of the ENCISS Programme is the increased capacity of representative civil society to participate in, influence, contribute to and monitor the Poverty Reduction Strategy and Local Government policy, planning and implementation, and strengthen capacity of the Government of Sierra Leone to engage in constructive dialogue with civil society within these policy frameworks. The focus of ENCISS will be improving the interface between state and non-state actors.”
Please forgive my innocence and ignorance… but honestly, what are these people really doing? Say what you mean and communicate it clearly for the rest of us, please!
Searching for clarity – beyond the gobbledegook, blather, chatter, prattle, drivel, double-talk, gibberish and development-speak.
Stephen
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