Ophelia S. Lewis's Blog, page 56

Theory of Decadence in Liberia

More Struggle, More Self-denial, and More Real Want

We have a lot to say about a cultural mix that’s not really mixed, about the management of our African country, and about the misuse of precious natural resources. This is by far the hardest piece of writing I’ve ever had to craft; the plausible theory of decadence in our beloved Liberia while we are in need of healing, both body, and spirit. How can you share the root of our problem with someone who is content with the lies they believe? Is there a way to help break past our acceptance of the status quo and truly examine what we believe? Do we wonder how we got to the point where morals and truth don’t seem important? Did it happen overnight or was it a gradual process? What happened to our sense of shame?

The overturn of selling Africans in the slave trade have stood vigil over Liberia like a corkscrew willow tree since the first settlers met the natives that first day sometime in 1822. It is with caution, that I try NOT to do the right thing in the wrong way.

1. Selflessness – ditch the crab-syndrome, hate will only keep hauling Liberia into hell. To quote Alexander Hamilton, “Men often oppose a thing merely because they have had no agency in planning it, or because it may have been planned by those whom they dislike.” It’s wrong to celebrate the breaking of any life. Ebola is forcing us to care and take care of one another. This, I hope, will lead Liberia to increased prosperity. What will make Liberia great is working together, what makes us weak is failing to work together.

2. Those we leave behind, our children, is really our future that we keep behind.

3. Patriots of the fifteen counties, WE ARE NOT. If our loyalty is only to one out of fifteen, all lights, including the one you are loyal to, burn out soon enough. If you are not your brother’s keeper, who keeps you? Patriotism, zealous support of one’s country, keep that light burning, that flag flying and tears swell your eyes when the national anthem is heard. Loyalty for fifteen counties rather than one. What has an effect on those beyond county borders affects those within county borders. Have we not realized, neither the civil war nor the Ebola virus could be contained outside of any border.

4. Every life is equally important and worth fighting for; regardless of gender, age, tribular inheritance, or status—social, economic or otherwise.

5. Who to vote for? Here’s an idea. Put into office those who have shown community service in the past, certainly not those who killed our citizens. “You kill my Ma, you kill my Pa, but I will vote for you” is absurd. We shouldn’t vote for anyone who misuses the country resources, much more murder our citizens. You are only putting your life in the hands of criminals. It’s like tying your most expensive piece of jewelry on a long string and then drag it behind you. Warlord-turn-politicians beg you to take them into your hearts only to rob you of your basic human rights.

6. Give the power back to the people and make politicians earn the votes of Liberian citizens, but never through intimidation. I’d like to believe dictatorship in Liberia started in the forties when the sitting president (William V.S. Tubman) remained in office after his second term as the constitutions clearly state that presidential term of office is limited to two. Seven terms? That’s absurd.

7. Service beyond self; give according to your means.

8. Leave hate behind, you no longer have to fight each other for 43k-square miles of land, it belongs to everyone. The flag, seal and national anthem all have meaning, learn them—not just mumble words that resemble the actual words. Accept what the rest of the world acknowledges our country by, so that we move forward together into prosperity.

9. Ignorance (lack of knowledge) is more deadly than Ebola. Education, no matter where or how acquired, is the most important ingredient in the life of any society. Not every citizen can be or needs to be, institutionally educated, but every citizen ought to learn logic by which society basic human rights are honored. The voice of ignorance may be loud, but the voice of reasoning is louder. According to the great philosopher, Socrates, virtue (general moral excellence) is based on knowledge (awareness).

10. Sanitation is as absolute as breathing, and this can never be stressed enough. As news video recording of bushmeat being sold in the market was shown during the Ebola crises, flies covered the meat. Ebola is not going away as long as it wins. These are living organism as we are. God put us (man) in charge of all living things.

11. Get off the most corrupt country list, there’s no pride being number one. Integrity ought to be a living and breathing principal that should come naturally. During the Ebola crises, the lack of integrity provides an understanding of the mistrust that Liberian citizens harbor. I pray after this nation will embrace a change, radical and reasonable, on anyone, including ANY person holding government office, that ALL laws are aggressively enforced against corruption at EVERY level of status. On matters of corruption, we ought, to be frank. It would be extreme to say we are a nation of cowards when the fact that the power has been stolen from the people gradually by leaders encouraging eye service and flattery. Do we want to get off the most corrupt country list or be first? There will always be people who will try to discredit change. The fact remains; if we don’t end corruption, corruption will end Liberia. Simple as that.

12. Our goal should be to define Liberia as a capable, modern nation deserving of international respect while preserving its own power;

We have been tested, not once, but twice; the loss of what is old is an opportunity to discover something new. Liberians were tested by slavery, civil war, coups, hardship, and poverty, yet we did not realize that weakness is the result of our gross selfishness. With all its wearing, heartfelt pain, can the Ebola crisis be the means to priceless gain for Liberia? God may have allowed the Ebola crises to get us to give up bad habits or learn new virtues. Bitter experiences are often used to make us better. Have we examined ourselves to see whether we have failed each other? Unless, indeed, we have not failed the test, I pray to God that we have met the test and from here on, do what is right. Let us aim for unity and agree with one another in the restoration of basic human rights for every Liberian. May the grace of Christ, the love of God, and the companionship of the Holy Spirit be with us all.

 

The post Theory of Decadence in Liberia appeared first on Ophelia S. Lewis.

Importance of Education in Africa

The most terrible disease in the world is IGNORANCE. It is the most painful, the most destructive, and the most contagious disease. It causes people to suffer all their life.

The future of Africa is at stake. Most African leaders intent to remain president for their lifetime, yet they never think about things beyond their lifetime or beyond their children’s lifetime, when it is their number one duty.

Africa is plagued with the disease of IGNORANCE, and we all can do something about that. The cure is simple, EDUCATION; learning wisdom and understanding… learning skills… learning NOT to vote for leaders that rob Africa of hope… learning that integrity does matter because corruption is equally as deadly as ignorance… learning to respect the basic human rights of everyone.

Africa, we CANNOT remain ignorant and uneducated. Hard work and a commitment to professionalism can change things in Africa, even if it’s slow.

Our Actions

Our actions speak louder than our words. I pray that my actions speak unconditional love. #BeEncouraged.

The post Our Actions appeared first on Be Encouraged.

Challenges

Every challenge is an opportunity to trust God, ‪#‎BeEncouraged‬.

The post Challenges appeared first on Be Encouraged.

Impress God

Don’t try to impress me, I can’t get you into heaven. Impress God, it’s a whole lot easier. ‪#‎BeEncouraged‬

The post Impress God appeared first on Be Encouraged.

Fufu, Dumboy and Pepper Soup

One could never meet a Liberian and not know about fufu and soup.

Africa’s markets are distinguished and run mostly by persuasive women traders who sell anything and everything that you will need; from manufactured and imported foods to produce, tools, medicines, footwear, clothes, pots and pans, etc. Your soul is recharged by the market energy and humor as you stroll through, bargaining for fresh fish, meats, rice, fufu, vegetables or fruits. The market evokes the sights, sounds and smells of the aromas of Liberian cookery and waters your mouth as you move from stall to stall, imagining the spread on the table once the shopping is home and the cooking completed.

To “burst your belly” (Liberian slang to over eat) is a self-imposed habit of eating in Liberia. A well-prepared Liberian dish makes all other dishes seem insipid. Whether it is filling your plate with tender-cooked rice and pouring over this fluffy mound of rice, palm butter, exquisitely rich in flavor, or embellishing your soup with pepper that is cruelly hot, several mashed boiled okra and pasted benne seed (sesame seed is parched and pounded into paste) for your fufu or dumboy soup. When consuming these sizable meals, you speak very little and never think, at all, of your waistline. You eat. Then you look for a reasonably cool and quiet place in which to sleep. You rise slowly, relying on significant support from the chair to locate your bed or a sofa, or preferably a hammock under the shades between two trees, and proceed to lie down. When you wake, you are likely to crave something else, like a slice of the unmatched sweet Liberian pineapple or delicious plum (mango).

“Come leh eat O,” says the host to a visitor—be it a relative, neighbor or stranger—who enters a home while dinner is being served. It is a taboo in Liberia not to invite someone to join you while you are eating (no matter how much food you have available). It is also an insult to refuse the invite.

In the village Africans eat together like brothers, dipping their hands in the same bowl. In fact, this is where the bonding begins. It may be that the children that are gathered for dinner, hunches around a big enamel pan, buttocks, low to the earth, knees cupped in armpits, bodies rock on splayed feet in a flow of eagerness and joy. Their little elbow swings out as tiny fingers curl rice into balls that are greasy with palm oil. It is satisfying for the parents to watch their little ones chins become slick with palm oil.

Fufu

Although rice is king in Liberia, fufu is treated special. Fufu is a derivative of cassava or plantain. In Liberia, fufu is prepared from the flour of dry retted cassava. You either buy it at the market or make your own.

To make your own, whole fresh cassavas are selected (without rot), all skin removed, washed, and immersed in water and soaked for 3-4 days, which promotes fermentation (the softening of the cassava roots need to occur for their processing into fufu). When sufficiently soft, the roots are taken out, broken by hand, and sieved to remove the fibers. The sieved mass is allowed to sediment in a large container for twenty-four hours. After sedimentation, water is poured off while the fine, clean sediment (mainly starch) becomes the fufu pulp. Finally the wet fufu pulp is molded into golf-size balls and sold at the market to shoppers. These molded fufu balls are dissolved in cold water and strain to get rid of any solid cassava particles. The mixture is poured into the cooking pot and set aside for about 20 minutes so that it settles. When the fufu sediment has settled at the bottom of the pot, the liquid is poured out. Fufu is then cooked over low heat, stirring constantly with a “fufu-stick” (wooden spoon) until it thickens, changing from a white starchy consistence to firm clear-color dough with heavy thickness in texture. It is removed from the pot and placed in a large pan for cooling.

When the cooked fufu reaches a tolerable temperature (don’t allow it to get too cold; it becomes difficult to mold), it is shaped into a sizable portion of serving (having the shape of a disk) by repeatedly folding over, pressing and squeezing the dough with your hand. As you mold your fufu, a “sprinkle of water” is used to free the dough from the pan. The dough is turned over and placed—smooth side up—in the serving bowl. Pepper soup or any sauce of your choice (palm butter, okra or palava sauce), may be added.

I’d rather have pepper soup with my fufu.

To eat fufu, make an indentation at the edge of the disk-shaped dough with your spoon, tear off a bite-sized piece (not too big because fufu is swallowed instead of chewed. There’s no rule for eating fufu. You may chew it if you like) and scoop up some soup, or sauce, with it. Fufu is slightly sour in taste, which is due to the process of fermentation. However, your taste buds are exclusively directed to the tasty soup or sauce. Adding certain condiments like benne seed (sesame seed is parched and pounded into paste) boiled bitter balls, okra and lime to the soup for your fufu or dumboy dish will kick it up a notch.

Dumboy

Dumboy (another variation of cooked cassava, like fufu) is boiled cassava pounded into thick, viscous dough. You cannot buy this at the market, and its preparation is laborious. First, you peel the cassava, cut into pieces, wash it thoroughly, and place it in a pot to cook for about fifteen to twenty minutes (the cassava should not be too soft). Drain off the water. After the boiled cassava cools, cut into mid-size chunks. Put the pieces in a mortar, the eminent food processor tool in all of Africa kitchens. With the use of the pestle (companion of the mortar), beat/mash/pound the cassava pieces continuously as the dough will become sticker and sticker. To prevent the dough from sticking, occasionally dip the pestle in water to moisten it. Keep beating until your dumboy is of the desired consistency. During this preparation, stroke of the pestle hammering the dough in the mortar produces sharp popping sound, a sort of understanding that is music to one’s ear. The belly growl and your mouth waters. After reaching your personal desired consistency, the dumboy is prepared like fufu (the molding process) and placed in a serving bowl. Adding certain condiments (benne seed, boiled bitter balls or okra and lime) to your soup kicks it up a notch.

Pepper Soup

The supreme companion for your fufu or dumboy

In Liberia, no matter how it is prepared, no matter what preferences of ingredients used, no matter what it looks like—redden with tomato paste or not—Pepper Soup, for the most part, is sacred. It is the cure for under-the-weather illnesses (common cold, hangover, heartache), the perfect stabilizer for your over-consuming of alcoholic beverages and, of course, the utmost companion for fufu or dumboy. Pepper Soup is serious business, y’all, no fooling. It is equally full of flavor as it is complex. The mystic of Pepper Soup is, it can be as equally tasty when prepared with very minimum ingredients as it is if prepared with every conceivable element that can be added to a dish. This dish is magical, especially cooked the Liberian way! Some ingredients could include, beef, bitter balls, bony fish, bouillon, cow foot, chicken feet, catfish, fish head (snapper, grouper, barracuda) dried fish, goat meat, crab, pepper, tomato paste, trap, salt, spices, crayfish, Kitili, and many other things.

When Caribbean star, Calypso Rose, visited Liberia and ate some Pepper soup, she returned to her home and, right away, penned the song “Pepper soup”, naming every ingredient imaginable. There has never been a Liberian party where her song is not played or pepper soup served.

Be Encouraged to try something new, eat some fufu with pepper soup.

The post Fufu, Dumboy and Pepper Soup appeared first on Be Encouraged.

Don’t buy your child a Christmas gift until you’ve read this….

Give a gift to last a lifetime. The Good Manner Alphabets Book (how to be a super polite kid) is a picture book that offers a unique way to teach young children good manners using the 26 letters of the alphabet we all know. Each letter of the alphabet is represented, relating to teaching social standards with the principles of right conduct and good character. Good manners can be taught as soon as your child understands what you’re saying, therefore The Good Manner Alphabets Book was written mainly for young children. This book is based on the rules of good manners with the hope that children can have fun learning the rules of good conduct using the alphabets.

Why this book is important: If children are not polite and considerate in the homes, they cannot help showing that fact away from home. Good manners are a very important key to a child’s social success, but no one is born with good manners. Teaching children good manners is a daily process to help them develop social skills, showing them how to interact in a polite manner with people and also teaching them to treat others with respect.

After the hard work comes the award.

Reward your super polite kid with this beautiful “You’ve Got Good Manners” certificate, embossed with the Village Tales Publishing seal and signed by Sapo. Of course, it can also be signed by a parent or teacher.

The story behind the book: to inspire young children to learn respect, good values, ethics, morals and good behavior.

When I was layoff in 2009, most of my extended family members were also out of a job (no income or low income); and as school was about to close for the year, most did not know what they would do with their children during the summer—10 weeks! I had no luck finding employment while I worked on my other writing projects. I needed a break from my writing and an idea came to mind—run a small summer camp with the family kids! My mother, a retired school teacher and a few of the older children in the family (recent college graduates) liked the idea and joined me. A local pastor allowed us to use his church for the camp. (two of his children attended). The parents provided lunch, we planned indoor activities at the church and outdoor activities in the parks, all at no cost. Sharing my life with those 11 children for 10 weeks added more meaning to my life than anything else. That summer I wrote a booklet called, The Good Manners Alphabet Book. By the end of summer, the kids (age 4-11) had memorized all 26 one-liners of good manners using the alphabets.

Today, I have extended the booklet into a book and have added paragraphs to the one-liners so older children can enjoy it as well. I honestly hope this book help girls and boys become happier, more agreeable children and over time, adults who have turned into proper ladies and gentlemen. The least we can do is train our children’s eye to see how they may add to the enjoyment of others, therefore making friends. The right kind of friendship may give joy for a lifetime.

The post Don’t buy your child a Christmas gift until you’ve read this…. appeared first on Be Encouraged.

African Woman’s Plight

Queens of the market

What is playing in your ears today? I hear a voice from Africa that tells a story of need. Poverty in Africa has a woman’s face! Women labor with the burden of being the backbone of the country’s economy, making small farms and selling fruits and vegetables to provide the basic necessities for their families. They have a hard time, often travelling long distances to the markets on dirt roads that are mostly impassable, especially during long rainy seasons.

For many, formal schooling was interrupted for so long because of war (mostly internal conflict). Opportunities for young African women in Liberia and across Africa are scarce, so most women run their small business market. To run a successful business, women need to be able to read and do basic math calculations. The most fundamental way out of poverty is Education—knowledge and skills. Women must learn valuable business and social skills that will allow them to participate fully in planning and organizing their communities.

Education is a key to ending poverty, giving women a voice to reject the corruption that has also contributed to Africa’s poverty, and to embrace a culture of human rights aimed at protection for them and their daughters. Education will give them a fighting chance against discrimination and exploitation. It will give women the possibility to become economically self-sufficient. Education will give women the opportunity to decide on matters concerning their own lives, giving women a voice with which to defend their own interests in those societies that undervalue girls.

But challenges remain all over the continent. Women leaders are still in very small numbers, however, that will change. Hope lies in the kind of example set by organizations like Shades of Liberia, Women of F.I.R.E., and Ward Academy for Girls, which develop projects enabling women to become economically independent. We need to support their efforts to promote women’s empowerment and gender equality. Women entrepreneurs, like the market women, are playing a major role in the fight against poverty. I call them, Queens of the market.

You see… gracefully, she makes her way toward the market balancing a pan of eatables—or anything for that matter —on her head. At times carrying her baby under her arm or tied to her back.

She takes her familiar place in the stall and amidst the noise of the market, you will see a tough, assertive woman evolved in her own power structure to settle with a customer for the final price. Every minute is accounted for by repetitive tasks, and there is no time for relaxation in the marketplace.

The Queen is not in business for herself; it is for her family. Every cent that is earned will help her husband for family maintenance and her children. What is overlooked is the market woman plays a much important role in moving her country to economic prosperity. She is rarely praised or acknowledged for her hard work. Most do not realize that it is her strength and resourcefulness that is responsible for the food found on the dinner tables in just about every home.

I pray that they be encouraged, as I end with the words of Franklyn Douglas, “Once you learn to read, you will forever be free.” It is for every market woman that I write this poem:

The Market Woman

Vivid colors of tropical fruits,

limes, oranges, mangos and pawpaws,

pineapples, plantains, bananas, guavas,

plums, eddoes, yams and cassavas,

sugar canes, palm nuts and red hot peppers.

Gleaming white heaps of new country rice,

tan baskets and brown mats,

blue-purple eggplants, red-violet kola nuts,

indigo head ties, lappas and Vai shirts.

Distinct arts of carvings and paintings,

jewelries of flashing gold, brass and copper.

The stage is set;

the buyers and the sellers have met

with plenty of haggling on the price

until an agreement is reached.

In Africa’s colorful marketplace,

women reign supreme.

Swift and graceful,

she takes her familiar place in the stall.

Then on a table or a bamboo mat,

she spreads her wares of

fuzzy green okras; ten to a pile.

Her hard 16-hour workday continues;

settling her price for little profit,

dashing to satisfy her buyers and

hoping they remember and come back.

Cleverly, she fills a crying baby’s mouth,

smiles at a waiting buyer whose order she’s tending,

exchanges three okra piles for some money,

then embraces her baby who stays hung sucking.

No leisure time, no relaxation;

attentive, diligent and tireless action.

Amidst the hurly-burly marketplace,

she, too, haggles with customers

over price and quantity.

Money earned feeds the family,

dresses the children, pays for schooling;

Grateful for her hard work on their behalf,

she is the heart of her family survival.

The market woman returns home,

kindles the fire and prepares the evening meal.

She serves food to her husband and children—she eats last,

washes herself, puts her house in order

then goes to bed at last.

The post African Woman’s Plight appeared first on Be Encouraged.

Queens Of The Market

Fluidly and gracefully, she makes her way toward the market balancing a pan of eatables – or anything for that matter – on her head. At times carrying her baby under her arm, or tied to her back. She takes her accustomed place in the stall and amidst the noise of the market; you will see a tough, assertive woman evolved in her own power structure to settle with a bargainer for the final price and quantity. Every minute is accounted for by repetitive tasks and there is no time for leisure or relaxation in the hustling and bustling marketplace. The Queen is not in business for herself; it is for her family. Every cent that is earned is to help her husband for family maintenance and survival and her children.

What is overlooked is that the market woman plays a much important role in moving her country toward economic prosperity. She is rarely praised or acknowledged for her hard work. Most do not realize that it is her strength and resourcefulness that is responsible for the food found on the dinner tables in just about every home. The productivity of the Queen of the Market is truly heroic. It is for every market woman that I write this poem:

The Market Woman

Vivid colors of tropical fruits,

Limes, oranges, mangos and pawpaws,

Pineapples, plantains, bananas, guavas,

Plums, eddoes, yams, and cassavas,

Sugarcanes, palm nuts, and red hot peppers.

Gleaming white heaps of new country rice,

Tan baskets and brown mats,

Blue-purple eggplants, red-violet kola nuts,

Indigo head ties, lupus and why shirts.

Distinct arts of carvings and paintings,

Jewelry of flashing gold, brass and copper.

The stage is set;

The buyers and the sellers have met

With plenty of haggling on the price

Until an agreement is reached.

In Africa’s colorful marketplace,

Women reign supreme.

Swift and graceful,

She takes her familiar place in the stall.

Then on a table or a bamboo mat,

She spreads her wares;

Fuzzy green okras, ten to a pile.

Her hard 16-hour workday continues;

Settling her price for diminutive profit,

Dashing to satisfy her buyers and

Hoping they remember and come back.

Cleverly, she fills a crying infant’s mouth,

Smiles at a waiting buyer whose order she’s tending,

Exchanges three okra piles for some money,

Then embraces her baby who stays hung sucking.

No leisure time, no relaxation;

Attentive, diligent and tireless action.

Amidst the hurly-burly marketplace,

She, too, haggles with customers

Over price and quantity.

Money earned feeds the family,

Dresses the children, pays for schooling;

Grateful for her hard work on their behalf,

She is the heart of her family survival.

The market woman returns home,

Kindles the fire and prepares the evening meal.

She serves food to her husband and children—she eats last,

Washes herself, puts her house in order

Then goes to bed at last.

©2006 Ophelia S. Lewis

From the book: Journeys (a collection of poems)

Liberia: Picking Up The Pieces

Changing ideas and the way of life in Liberia:

For those who desire freedom, Liberia is a land of promise, not a promised land. When Africans in their despairs were being removed from their homes by slave traders (Africans and others) and while Africa was being divided by European powers, our tiny beloved Liberia stood alone as an independent state upon a continent of western colonies. The division of Africa would have been an accomplished fact, in which Liberia could not have had a place. When the British held Sierra Leone to the west, while the French held Cote d’Ivoire to the east as well as Guinea to the north, our tiny beloved Liberia stood alone as an independent state. We also give accounts of the many struggles between the black-skin and brown-skin Africans, settlers and tribesmen, and the formidable difficulties of acceptance of one another. How can anyone not agree that Liberia’s story is an impressive one of fortitude?

We have fought our wars, we have died, we have cried, we have mourned; now we must pick up the pieces and strive to put every Liberian’s life back together. Each of us must set the pace for others to follow, to become a part of the solution rather than a part of the problem. We must each challenge ourselves to make a positive difference in a Liberian’s life. It is up to us, Liberians, to build a nation of national consciousness.

We must pick up the piece of hope and dream of a better tomorrow for us and our children so that our universities, colleges and trade schools will engage in accepting students’ applications for higher learning rather than being used as a place of shelter from stray bullets. We must give our children, Liberia’s future builders, an equal chance to make changes for Liberia’s growth in years to come. We must keep hope alive!

We must pick up the piece of joy and celebrate the laughter that once echoed with the drifting wind from the Atlantic, as the voices of our children were heard from their games in neighborhoods, village yards, city yards, schoolyards and playgrounds. Playing together is a fundamental tool in learning to get along; in building togetherness so that when children grow up to become adults they can respect one another.

We must pick up the piece of prosperity and dare to travel the many roads to accomplish our wishes of becoming teachers, taxi drivers, auto mechanics, small business owners, carpenters, governors, clerks, electricians, secretaries, journalists, doctors, rubber tappers, nurses, policemen and policewomen, farmers, market vendors, ministers of the gospel, senators, soldiers, lawyers, writers, musicians, tailors, plumbers, artists, etc, etc, etc.

We must pick up the piece of pride and help to build Liberia into a nation that will compete with the rest of the world in economic growth, sports, science, and research for the benefit of mankind. We can build manufactories, create jobs, export merchandise and acquire wealth through honest hard work. Liberia is blessed with many natural resources. How wonderful it would be to have malls or shopping centers built in every nook and corner throughout Liberia. Not just in Monrovia. If we build it, people will use it! Some may say that I am a dreamer, but I can assure you that I am not the only Liberian dreamer. Every human can appreciate things that somehow accommodate his or her needs.

We must pick up the piece of dignity and have our beloved Lone Star wave alongside flags of other great nations of the world and be recognized as a people, wearing the well-deserved badge of honor and respect. Our presence, along with our voices, must reflect the need for basic human rights in our country as well as around the world. We must stand up and be counted as peacemakers, not abusers of human lives in meaningless wars.

We must pick up the piece of unity and consider our ethnic heritage as one; we must address our uncompromising conservatism of tribalism and embrace each other as one people with the common goal to continue the legacy of our brave mothers and fathers who sacrificed their lives for ours. Working together, Liberians are capable of acquiring greatness on God’s planet earth.

We must pick up the piece of faith, regardless of your belief, Christian or Muslim, and treat each other, as you would like to be treated. We must be able to open the doors of our place of worship with eagerness to praise God together rather than with fear that it could become a place of massacre.

Our Progress or our Past? Liberians are faced with the same dilemma confronting people throughout the world—illiteracy, illness, poverty, human rights, opportunities and uncertainties. Why should the achievement of a better life for every Liberian seem hopeless when our struggle is not against outside factors? In Liberia, it should not be hatred and segregation that must determine our future. We ought to use positive influence to create a good life for every Liberian in every community. Liberia will grow when each Liberian can produce something beyond his own needs. I believe in Liberia’s progress because I have acknowledged Liberia’s past. Success in Liberia is foreseeable. If not us, our children will make this possible!

To be a Liberian means that you are a star, a Lone Star, unique in every way and by all measure, special. Liberty children, Lone Stars, be encouraged.

The post Liberia: Picking Up The Pieces appeared first on Be Encouraged.