SAMPLE READS- Behind the Eclipse

We had returned to a Monrovia which was different than that we left four days ago. A Monrovia that had been beaten flat by two brutal civil conflicts had been trying to crawl on its knees but unfortunately it looked like another inevitable blow had already landed right on its centre.
Couple of suspected cases and two deaths had been reported in Liberian capital in no time just like an eclipse that hides the Sun like a bat out of hell.
‘Ebola here O’ Aminatta said seeing me entering the fence, evening without greeting her husband who was way from home for three nights.
‘One man died in Firestone tow days ago’ Aminatta looked like an Impala escaped that had just escaped from a Chita.
‘I knew it was going to come to Monrovia but I never thought this soon’ I said what I really assumed. It was a real eclipse like situation as no one wanted Ebola or whatever they believed that was killing people in Guinea and Lofa to come to Monrovia which they expressed through their words of confidence and denial which not only typical Liberian way of thinking and acting but also of people in many places in the region, mainly because of the trust issue that we were born with as black-people which had been constantly fertilized by our own inferiority complex that we develop through life-long and constant interaction with different layers in our society. On the top of that, it is always easier to blame the outsider highlighting a conspiracy theory and escape from responsibility of once`s own behavior or act which is not only limited to Liberia or Africa, but I believe many under-evolved societies do have that traits. Then the politicians threw straw into raging fire calming that white-man`s soul was behind the rising flames which our people could better digest than it was their own behavior such as eating bushmeat, traditional burial practices and the life style that was behind this killer disease.
While the rumors on conspiracy theories were traveling across the country with their constant changes of outlook just like chameleon that changes the color, Ebola had silently accelerated its conquest in many close communities in Monrovia. No one noticed that until several dozens of cases started emerging out of densely populated close communities such as Duala -Market, Bushrod-Island island and Paynesville—a highly dense community located near the biggest outdoor market called Red-Light. And the deaths followed many reported cases hinting everyone that Ebola was real.
‘Papa I have got an A for Mathematics, A for Human biology and B for French’ Princes came running after school.
‘Papa Papa, I also have A for English’ George II who was running after his sister said victoriously.
‘Papa papa Oldman in mu class jealous of me O’ George II pulled his school back and showed me his report card.
Even-though my children had the luxury to go to school at the right age, over a decade long series of conflicts deprived the right to education from most of the Liberians which contributed to 85% illiteracy in the country. Many of those who dropped out did not resume their education after war was over but some of them who had means as well as interest had just restarted their school life after a decade. It was a normal to have twenty or thirty years old students in grade five and often parents and children studying together in the same class. Getting more marks than older pupils in the class, George was pretty happy and motivated. As a father of children who supported what their father believed in, I was more than happy to hear what George was telling but simultaneously as a Liberian it was heart aching to see the citizens who should have been already at working age were going to primary school. Aminatta`s chances to resume her studies were deprived by out poor finances but when I heard the discussion between Dr Harris and Dr Samuel about their plans on health servants my thoughts suddenly linked to possible chances of sending Aminatta back to school in case if I get a sufficient salary. And my first exposure to an Ebola treatment ward had cutdown my unrealistic fears about the decease.
‘The PPE protects you fully. If you know how to wear and remove it properly there is no risk at all’ Dr Samuels briefing left its stains in my mind. Whenever I think the opportunities in the calamity my children and Aminatta invade my mind and manacle my straying thoughts and cage them within iron bars called family bounds. Simultaneously my thoughts that pops up time to time yet constantly just like blinking starts in the sky were to earn something more for betterment of their lives. I wanted Aminatta to resume her studies in journalism as she was always dreaming of, and my daughter Princes wanted to be a nurse like her father, George II was too young to say something concrete about his career but he loved the job of Moto-boy. ‘They are the fastest on the road’ he used to say. But I knew that was just like my dream to be a soldier which I never wanted to be when I grew up.
It was a Friday evening in August 2014 when the signs of fear and had invaded every corner of Monrovia, Dr Harris called me into his cabinet.
‘George’ He kept looking at my eyes for few seconds.
‘Would you like to lead a team of community mobilizers and conduct sensitization programs for EVD in Monrovia?’ His question rather intimidated me than allowing me to respond as I felt I was not in a position to give him an answer right away.
‘Shall I let you know tomorrow morning ?’
“George, I do not expect you to reply right now. You can discuss with your wife and get back to me on Monday which is fine’ He said smiling.
In the evening I left the office with mixed thoughts. As many working class Liberians I used to take shared taxi known as Yellow-machine, to go to Elva junction from Congo town [ have to clarify where from last chapters ]where my newly made house was. Usually taxi drivers load the cars with more than seven passengers packing them like goats taken to slaughterhouse and all the smells that human body could emit added to the dusty air in the taxi making everyone nauseated[ need t check]. On top of everything women and men scream at the top of their voices in limited space in passenger cabin almost tearing the ear-drums. These realities we had accepted as post war Liberia`s normal life and we did not look at our neighbor with fright and paranoia as if he or she was a virus. Having someones sweat on hands or cloths was not something to panic.