By Henry Mamulu

I participated in the home going of Uncle ‘Bobbin’ McClain. I was on the pulpit with his sisters, brothers, nephews and nieces and children. Even Willie Mae King asked me, “what were you doing up there with my family?”

Do you recall the death and burial of McKinley A. Deshield in 1978? His death in 1978 seemed to herald the end of the True Whig Party and announced the finale of a Golden Age in our history that started with William V. S. Tubman and ended with William R. Tolbert.

I remember Mr. DeShield’s funeral as the last decent burial we had before the beginning of pandemonium and the era of mass graves in our Liberia. He was escorted from his Front Street home with full military representation and all the honors that should have been afforded those who were put in the mass graves.

Is Uncle Bobbin’s death and burial, shrouded with all of the pomp and pageantry of funerals past, the one that is welcoming into Monrovia the Boatman who will carry off the Baby Boomers? Is this an epoch or epiphany?

At the funeral I saw Ophelia “Fefe” Weeks, a convent girl, who played kickball and was as tough as nails. I saw Moses Jr. Johnny Weefur, a CWA boy. What a basketball player Johnny was; and the Johnny Funky Broad Way was his contribution to our societal development of the 1960s and early 70s. There also was Earl Burrows. His people made excellent coffee that was exported and acclaimed worldwide. There was also Sister Mary Laurene still teasing me.

At the funeral of Uncle Bobbin I saw the Monrovia that I knew and longed for fading away, not graciously, but like Hezekiah, wanting to stay just a bit longer. Perhaps to share with a new generation nurtured on ‘Me, Myself and I.’ At the funeral I was a pig in hog Heaven at least for one day. Thank you God!

The President of the Republic of Liberia, H.E. Mrs. Ellen J. Sirleaf arrived long before the church was full or “foot.” She sat down and looked frail under the burdens she carried. She looked around to see some old friends or perhaps kind faces, but this was Monrovia Madam President, a city numbed or stunned and in its own mess. At that age, existing old friends are few and far between. Acquaintances become friends when your real friends are gone. She looked as though she had hit a brick wall of lonliness.

Then she spoke, ‘A Letter to Bobbin.’

Mrs. Sirleaf spoke of their childhood on Crown Hill and how they all played and ate together. This was where she met Commerce Minister Beyslow and such. And then she went into the War Years. She talked about how Uncle Bobbin was there with her in Senegal, Sierra Leone, and places such as Burkina
Faso. In the midst of all this war, she said it was Bobbin who was always trying to bring peace.

Then I attempted to unravel their friendship and her massive grief.

Have you ever had a yard boyfriend or girlfriend? Uncle Bobbin was in love with the young Ellen but she was loving to someone else. Someone Bobbin knew. We will call him Fast Peter. Whenever Fast Peter played Ellen she would go to Bobbin and tell him and Bobbin would hold her hand and comfort her. At their parties as Fast Peter danced with Susannah Lewis and Minty Draper, Bobbin danced with Ellen. He loved him some Ellen but she wanted a Best Friend; and so to be around his real Jue, he became that – a friend who could take a bullet for a friend.

Our President spoke about how she and Bobbin decided to come home “And Put Liberia First.” I am not going into politics here so spare me. Her voice broke and she trembled a little as she spoke from her heart. Our President had come to the podium singing, “Oh when I come to the end of my journey…,” a line from the Hymn, “He’ll Understand and Say Well Done.”

By then the President of the Republic of Liberia had been reduced from “President of Liberia” to “Ellen Johnson from Crown Hill.” She staggered off the stage drunken with grief that her best friend had finally left her and appeared to be falling as she braced herself against the casket of her Best Friend. NO ONE RAN TO HELP DAWO. It was not the President that was falling at that time. It was Ellen from Crown Hill. The President has many friends. Where were Ellen’s friends? They all were stunned and numb. Dawo wore pumps and tried to get off of the altar, but she was tired of it all.

As Dawo stepped down she stumbled, but no one ran to our Old Ma. She balanced on Uncle Bobbin’s casket. ‘Hey yah!’ Once again Bobbin, even in death, had caught his Jue. It was the foreign envoy from Ivory Coast who put his arms around The President of Liberia and rubbed her back. All we did was sat stunned in our stupor.

Mrs. Sirleaf had become the ghost of William R. Tolbert in his last days of 1980. She was ‘Alone Again, Naturally.’ Bobbin had rendered his last act of protection to his Jue by offering his casket as a bracing point. In her own words, “he is irreplaceable.” Amen.

By Henry Mamulu

They say “something wrong with us Liberian men.”

I now search, ponder, contemplate, investigate, and examine the problem and I can find only one “variable constant” in all our lives.

Nearly every man in Liberia who would have attended kindergarten from the end of World War II to, say 1970, drilled in Pupu Platoon. For you young people, to drill is the march in rank and file as most of you do on your school’s Gala Day in uniform with your school mates. If you haven’t heard about World War II, you can get off of that Facebook and Google it. Perhaps the most destructive time in World History somewhere around 1940-1945 when millions were killed with some estimates say: Russians 25,000,000, Jews 6,000,000, USA 500,000. There is no estimate of how many African, Middle Eastern and other people of darker color died during that war. Most of us couldn’t count and nobody was helping us to take record. We were just forcefully conscripted in record numbers to fight on the front lines of all sides of the war. It would be interesting to research how many would have died. Probably many factorials more than all the rest of the Caucasians combined. But I am digressing. That time mentioned was the Age of the Marching Bands in Liberia.

The formation of Pupu Platoon rests squarely on the head of a failed American Foreign Policy. And for this I demand an apology and some restitution from the Boys of West Benson Street.

You see my fellow Platooners, the US of A decided in the Eisenhower era to participate in the carving up of Africa. It was an elephant and so they wanted their piece. But back then The US of A still appeared to HAVE A CONSCIENCE!

She decided to not enslave or shoot black men in Africa to control Africa but lure Africa in by letting it suckle at the breast of her generosity. So the great US of A introduced Non Fat Dry Milk to Africa.

Now, now Brave Platooners and Majestic Pupu Pots, we all know that a slim African woman is not traditionally considered a good woman. We like our women well endowed at the rear, front in full aplomb, ankles like some ham hock, and that little gut to cuddle when it gets cold. And as our uncle would stare in admiration and exclaim “she has a great future BEHIND her”! Na Ma Yah Miss Slim Jim. But you are our fantasy.

So who thought up this Non Fat Dry Milk African Policy? I won’t blame Susan or her cousin Condi because this was way before the Witches from the Bayous.

It was United Nations day, a day surpassed only by Flag Day when it came to drilling. The Liberian Frontier Force with their little red Fez had just returned from fighting along with our brothers the US of A in the Congo. We were led by General Harper, his mouth all puckered like he wanted a kiss after being shot in the jaw with an arrow. Earlier in the day the US Marines made a rendezvous with our soldiers on the beach at BTC. How we loved the GIs then and they loved our women back with equal enthusiasm.

Joseph Saye Goanue and John Tweh taught us this song for the day:

“We are United Nations, facing tasks too long undone;

With our eyes set on the future, our labors just begun;

Our tasks to set men free, to give all liberty;

To build for men throughout the world, one great fraternity”.

Ehn you see our trouble?

If you had a Congo Mammie like me, the drill day started like this. Mammie dearest went to the icebox and took “Pupa” not Papa left overs (otherwise termed “Cold Bowl”) out into the kitchen. Because it was from Sunday, what else but stale collard greens? And the Congo people self say, “collards gives you the colic”, whatever that is. Those days on Sunday we had two sauces to eat with rice; Split Peas/gravy or Collards Greens. “God forbid” the heathen who cooked Togbogee with monkey meat, or anything with palm oil for that matter.

After the rice and collards were warmed together, (no you do not warm them separately) Mammie gave me a warm glass of Non Fat Dry Milk. And you wonder why Liberian men got issues. My man, stale collards greens plus Non Fat Dry Milk = Pompeii. Times this equation by 2 and you get Vesuvius. (Young people please look up Pompeii and Vesuvius).

I have got to describe what most of us looked like back there. They (parents) bought you a pair of Jimmy Rogers for confirmation from none other than Old Man York down Water Side, Gurley Street. You were to wear your Confirmation shoes from Infant Reader to First or Second grade. You also wore them every Sunday to church and took them off as soon as you got home.

So by Second Grade when this narrative erupts in its entire stink, the shoes and one and only one pair of socks I had were too small. It was Mammie not Pupa who took the Gillette blade and cut the toes so that they could fit.

Now here I was, toes hanging out the too tight shoes, money catcher trousers, gut full of Collards and Warm Non Fat Dry Milk, I ran out the door to meet my men them at St. Patrick’s Elementary, up Snapper Hill where Cathedral School now stoops.

I heard the first rumblings deep in the recesses of my bowels but was already out the door, past Buzzi Quarter gas station and was up Camp Johnson Road running to meet the Lords of the Boot.

And then, the drilling began. All the schools were led by Aldolphus Shannon, General of the General Staff, which had Rosetta Stewart, and also Griselda Horace. The Colonel Staff had Willard Russell, Rosetta Randall and others, and the platoon that was to be led by the Lord of the Boot was led by Geoffrey Teteh Dapoe.

The first cramps hit me around Gabriel Cinema (the old Immigration office on Broad Street) The “gronah boys” were taunting us with this chant:

“Bungar (butt) in the trouser, puehn, puehn,

Walk like a billy goat, puehn, puehn”.

Imagine the coal tarred (asphalt) streets being too hot, the Confirmation shoes too tight, socks now ride up the crazy bone but the real trouble was the American Non Fat Milk that bloated my stomach to the point of eruption. It was ready to blow. As the beads of sweat fell down my face, like Jesus in Gethsemane I saw my disgrace in front of me as
all the contents of my gut liquefied.

I tried to squeeze out a fart. You know, to release the valves a bit as the pressure was building up to a crescendo. However as the fart came out, it was followed by a steam of stink liquefied “boot.” Eh God! where my Ma eh? O God if you alive take me to Heaven now and let me boot in a golden commode,” I prayed. Where side?

We started climbing B.W. Harris Hill. Augustine Myers, Sakpa Nynseour’s big brother, ran from the brave Platoon. As he pulled down his pants he stared at me sadly… He turned his face to the wall, strained one time, fired and found sweet release. I started crying straight!

That kind of crying we called “sneaking snot”. You exhaled and a snot bubble came out then you inhaled it back in again.

We were turning by where Sacred Heart would later be built. The band had stopped playing and we marched to the beat of the drum as the gronah boys chanted: “Bungar in the trousers puehn puehn…”. Crispin Jones broke free and ran for the door. My friend was too weak after holding his boot back but had found sweet liberation as he clung to the school’s door. I looked at him and saw the evidence of his freedom run down his leg and into his shoes.

As we moved down Ashmun Street I shook like a man with three plus malaria. There was only one more block to go. You see, President Tubman himself was taking the eyes right at the Old Mansion.

We crossed over Michelin Street and I thought I could make it but it was “just my imagination running away with me.” I was a six year old and no match for the “gbagbati” of the Boys from West Benson Street.

Now in view was Tubman, majestic in grey pants and white shirt, smoking his cigar. We were between Randall and Mechlin when my resolve failed me. I wrapped the Liberian Flag around me and the star came right under my Bungar. Well they said ‘Bungar was in my trouser…” well, they were about to see it.

Tubman stared at me and then Willard yelled, “He coming to Pupu!” And Folks I did. As Vesuvius erupted. The white star in our flag ran brown with my lava. Tubman yelled, “No!” as I strained for the next release. My father, the Madinka man Moses Mamulu, ran across the street and grabbed me and the desecrated Liberian Flag. He threw us both into the trunk of his jalopy and drove to Coconut Plantation. There the same gronah boys took me out of the trunk and threw me into the ocean. After a while, like Jonah I crawled out of the sea.

To my fellow Platooners and front line fighters the Pupu Pots, there will be a meeting Saturday after Old Timers Basketball. We will discuss our next moves. Either we demand monetary restitution from the US of A or we put some Pupu in Plastic bags, go to West Benson Street, throw them over the fence and run like sh**… or should I say, run “from” sh**?

This, my people, I, Professor Henry M. Mamulu, son of Ora and the Madinka man, has discovered the source of the Liberian Problem. Pupu Platoon. God Bless. Amen!

By Henry Mamulu

From Under the Tree to the Mansion

The things that one does in this world leave a blue print; DNA of sorts or finger print that indicates who may have performed the act. Sometimes the evidence can be so exact and not only name the actor but explain the whys because it may be a style unique only to the actor or a motive particular to a circumstance.

If you think I am lying, just ask Buster Coleman, Commissioner of Police, RL. He will tell you that at any crime scene the police investigate, they look for the modus operandi to determine the character of the crime, the first step to ascertaining who may have been the perpetrator of the crime. You see every criminal has his distinct behavior.

Then you want to know: Is Machiavelli evil? Depends if you live in Liberia or were born and raised in the West. The name Machiavelli associates itself with anything dubious, sinister, under water ninja conniving, cunning and full of snake-like duplicity.  The dictionary says: “Machiavellian – cunning, scheming, and unscrupulous, especially in politics or in advancing one’s career”.  The thing about it is, the doer is never seen participating in the act. Just like 666, it is the number of a man. “Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast: for it is the number of a man; and his number is Six hundred threescore and six.” – Revelations Chapter 13 verse 18.

One day in 1998-99, we were “Under the Tree” on Staten Island in New York.  Under The Tree was where the refugee community on Staten Island gathered to meet friends, sell food from home and meet other Liberians from any part of the world visiting America. On this particular day, it was packed with people “selling their markets”.

Ma Mary Payne had her Sweet Mother, Big Moore had her dried fish and Dedeh was selling pisty cold beer and stout. The air was heavy with the scent of killy willy, roasted corn and GB. It was July and all the professional footballers were on break. My group under the Tree included Ralph Peabody, Natty B. Davies, George Weah, Kojo Norty and Prince Yates.  I guess it must have been the scent of the fish roasted on the hearth that so intoxicated me that I blurted out, “Oppong, you know that you can be president?” He got up and said, “that’s why I do not like to talk with you, you like too much politics”.

In my book “Calm before the Storm” written during 2003-2004 I said, ”George was more important to Liberia than Mandela was to South Africa because George was ‘hope itself’”. You see, it was in the heat of the Liberian Civil War and “a drowning man would cling on to a straw”. Indeed, the whole country was grabbing for straws. Well, most of the intellectuals of that day raged hell with me. Nora Peal called me a traitor (none mind yah), and Welma Campbell said “you wrong on this one Mamulu,” to have even compared the two in the same sentence. Please bear with me here and read with an open mind and heart.

Recently on the bus from Barnersville to town at 5:30 a.m. some friends who usually discuss the Issues at Baba Atayee shop just across from Fire Service, said: “Your will hear soon, the Old Ma took Oppong to the Embassy and she told him Robert will be the “go-between” person for the two of them (Oppong and the Old Ma)”. The go-between is an intermediary. Look up that word, students!

A week and a half later the papers read. “Robert joins CDC”. There was nothing wrong with that. However, two years ago, during the Senatorial elections, do you all not recall Robert Sirleaf being referred to as a social deviant and spoiler of the youth? (Socrates was made to drink hemlock for no less). Was he not dragged over the coals for the whole NOCAL fiasco and his Ma distracted us by deflecting the blame unto herself? And where is NOCAL today — wait now, no more oil in Liberia? How come he is a sweet heart now? If Robert is a snake, can Oppong tame him and turn him into a pet? However we are assuming that he is in CDC even though it is not confirmed by any party.

However, this is what I know. Only Eugene, Ledgerhood, Brownie, Dillon, J. Wes and I know and do not think that the Old Ma is a demon. Look, she can’t be a raving drunk either. The woman is old and works too hard and too long to be drinking all night with the kitchen cabinet. Nearly all of Liberia and 95% of CDC believe that her only girl child is Queen of Sheba and that her Excellency lives under the sea and comes out only at dawn. She then heads to work at the mansion. I am serious about this.

Let us believe that it is true Robert is in CDC; YOU THINK THAT HIS MOTHER IS FAR BEHIND? If your don’t think so then your do not know Mandingo people. I, Henry Mamulu, son of a Madinka man can tell you. Oh, you thought they were what, Congo? I beg you yah. From the mouth of Fumba at Mickie’s hotel on 14^th Street, “but we nothing but Mandingo people; ehn your say Mandingos can’t be President?” (And by the way I found Fumba to be intelligent, charming and kind.  My real Mandingo brother.)   Now if we are like Costa and believe she is the aunty of Satan, what do you think she will do when she gets to CDC? “Dilemma of the Ghosts?” Come on now, you know the book that you buy every year for your high school child. Work with me now. Do not wilt under the pressure.

My people, I do not mean any harm here, but I can only write based on how you think and have thought over the years. Ok, ok. So I am begging George Weah to tell the boys them “your don’t whip Papey Momo”. “He just broke”. “Them belly full but we hungry; A hungry mob is an angry mob; A rain a-fall but the dutty tough; A pot a-cook but the food nah nuff” -Bob Marley.

“Better Liberian”

Now I live in Barnersville. Let me tell you a little about Barnersville. We drink a lot but still the majority tries their best to raise up their families with dignity. The girls are the most beautiful in the world and let God bless them. Barnersville is a very pro-Liberian community and for me more of an enclave than anything else. And there is nothing wrong with that also. Barnersville residents believe that the people who came from America spoiled the country. I am told that nearly every time I am at the Barnersville football field. I am not talking about 1822, but the recent returnees. They in Barnersville believe that people stayed so long in America that they became less Liberian than they who did not leave during the war. In essence, the belief is that people who stayed in America that long became selfish. The Majority of people in Barnersville, like most Liberians, dislike the idea of dual citizenship. We can assume, therefore, that this kind of pro-Liberian stance induces a little anti-Americanism sentiment into the “Better Liberian”, the “stay to”. Let me explain.

Remember Stephen Allen Tolbert? Hate him or love him Stephen was pro-Liberian, and because of our definition, a “Better Liberian”. Stephen hired Liberians and paid them well depending on the skill level. After the 1980 coup d’état, guess who took over Mesurado Group of Companies? Peter Bonner Jallah, Jr. His salary of over $6,000 per month plus benefits was the envy of all. That was after he reduced his own salary from $14,000 to $6,000.00. The $6,000 salary in 1980 Liberia was probably more than the salary of the President, VP and President Pro-Tempore combined. To his credit, Peter divided his salary with the less fortunate and Better Liberians working at Mesurado. Stephen Allen Tolbert sang the National Anthem with his whole heart and tried to renegotiate the Firestone Contract in order for “Better Liberians” to live a “Better” Life. In 1974, April 25th, Stephen’s plane went down into the Atlantic Ocean on take-off from Greenville, Sinoe County.

Today, all of you in Barnesville and elsewhere believe that Steve’s death was caused by some sort of sabotage because of his pro-Liberian stance. Not one of you since the 70s has said in any gathering that I have been in since the 70s: “it was mechanical failure” that brought the plane down. So I write just the way you think.

President William Richard Tolbert, Jr. wanted Liberia to become self-sufficient in food production. In terms of education, he went all over the world including Liberia’s non-traditional allies for scholarships and grants. Peter Coleman, Roland Massaquoi, Joe Charles, Izetta Wesley, Emmanuel Paymah, Joseph Lord Bunyan, Willie K. Mulbah, to name a few, benefitted from those endeavors in Russia, Romania, and Czechoslovakia and elsewhere in the world.

Then entered the Progressives from abroad and advocated for change or a “Better” Way of Life for “Better Liberians” including a multi-party system. Nothing was wrong with that either.  However, Machiavelli entered the palava, we were distracted and the issue of vote got deflected to matters of cold bowl “food”. Here is an example. We are now told to concentrate on agriculture to prevent starvation in the future. Meanwhile it is a distraction from the real issue, the taking away of our gold by the container full by a company in Cape Mount. In Liberia, Me, Myself and I, our attention is distracted by the fanfare, noise and heat of the poorest so-called “erection” (oh excuse me yah my Grand Ma or my Pa side was from Gsekedah in “Rofa”), sponsored by Machiavelli. Meanwhile they are passing laws in these last months that will not benefit us. For example the one currency Law; Somebody please tell me why I must no more receive my US Dollars that Aunty Florence will send in the future in US Dollars but in “fiamomo” money. Is it called “Liberty” because it is “free of value”? That is only my own personal observation but I want to believe that investors come to this country because of the free movement of the US Dollar. I have reached this conclusion because there don’t seem to be foosah going on here anymore.

Senator Cooper thinks the One Currency Law is a great idea but wants us to go to the soil and become food responsible. The Old Ma said the same thing at ECOWAS.  Nothing wrong with that. In the meantime, Aureaus Gold is taking our minerals away by the truck load. It is a distraction that reflects on the wrong things as perhaps even ebola was.

Back to the Madison. There was a violent riot over the price of rice in 1979 and by 1980, Tolbert was overthrown and killed. I have not heard one of you say that it was the PRC who executed the coup. You even said Mrs. Tolbert wrote a book and said that she saw a man with blue eyes. I read that book at Terry Brown’s house in Clayton, New Jersey and do not recall that part. You further claimed that the PRC was too ignorant to have conceived THE PLOT even though they were soldiers or as they say in “Rofa” NOKOS.  You believed that the act was staged by a group of foreign soldiers led by Jacques Kline. The same Kline who was the first person to greet the captured Taylor on Liberia soil. I lie on you? President Tolbert was pro Liberian and therefore a “Better Liberian”.

“Pro-Liberian,” ehn?

The “progressives” meanwhile, fell out of favor with the People’s Redemption Council. Soon their training from the schools run by Machiavelli came into play as they undermined everything from Doe on down, except this administration. The progressives seem to love this administration. I wonder why? All of them still able work for Ma Ellen.

Saint Samuel K. Doe is widely believed in present day Liberia to be Liberia’s best President. Nothing wrong with that. Born in Tuzon, Grand Gedeh or perhaps Ivory Coast, this man was pro-Liberian from cradle to the grave with credentials like these. He declared early, “Liberia dah nah nobody pah farm”, turned to Nigeria for the supply of rice thereby ditching the PL-480, a US inspired rice supply program that purchased pussawa rice from US farmers.

SKD (who became our man), as he was affectionately called, declared that Liberia’s resources could generate the money needed to pay off its debt. Da day same resources we are now distracted from looking at BUT DEFLECTED to look at the soil. The pekin was sharp and already in places like “Rofa” they are comparing Weah to Doe, but only in places like “ROFA’. This was the same debt Her Excellency begged them to erase and they did. What happened to Doe for his pro-Liberian stance? Helloooo!! ”TANGO, TANGO, THIS IS SUNSHINE”; would you like a Bud Light please?

Remember Joe Tate? He died in a plane crash along with Col. Walter Pelham, Annie Wreh, Cecilia Lewis, Flt. Capt. Joe Sumo and Catholic Father Paul Dickrell. Well, John Zayzay the electrical engineer at RIA ran from home in Smell-No-Taste and turned on the lights but it was too late, the plane was already down. John, who had an enlarged heart, also fell and died as a result of the tragedy of that day. Oh you did not know RIA had lights that worked on that day? And is it strange that even the Catholics don’t talk about Father Dickrell? Joe, just like President Duterte of the Philippines, took no nonsense from drug dealers and armed robbers in Liberia and people say that they felt safer on the streets on Monrovia during the Tate era. As Inspector General and family to MacArthur, he was uncompromising when it came to Taylor’s security and he had love for Liberia even though he was a war lord. Till today you still think Joe Bayogar was killed in an act of sabotage.

And even Charles MacArthur Taylor self; Chief Cyril Allen, my boy told me: “And Taylor told Exxon Chief, the integrity of The Republic of Liberia demands that we get 45%” of the oil profits.  A month later the famous words were said. “Taylor got to go”.

So now if Oppong wins the election, do you want him to become a pro-Liberian President and end up with the other dinosaurs or follow the Old Ma into the sea every night? Here is my candid suspicion of how things will play out. But first, some local news.

“Delilah Machiavelli”

Three months ago, the thing belonged to Uncle Joe. It was a foregone conclusion that Joseph Boakai would be the next president. Then entered the Old Ma. She put on her football boots, Ronaldinho jersey and dribbled us like Brazil versus “Rofa” Defence Force. The whole town went zaca (crazy), wondering who she supported. Finally we said “she wants Brumskine”. However Liberia believed that if Brumskine ran against his shadow, guess who will win? “Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men”?  So why support a man nearly everyone called “Feecee or Gbelleh”?

Liberians called Joe Boakai “sleepy” but the people from “Rofa” said he can be flying over the room when you think he is sleeping. Many Liberians in the street honestly felt that “Uncle Joe”, as he is affectionately called, differed with the president on many issues and could therefore rightly and justifiably distance himself from the shortcomings of Delilah’s decisions for the country (Affectionately she is called Delilah by most Pastors). Liberians were hopeful that, like William R. Tolbert, II, who emerged as president after serving as vice president for 19 years under WVS Tubman with radically new and positive policies and programs, “Sleepy Uncle Joe” would catch fire if given the chance.

Liberians started getting scared by two significant events in Uncle Joe’s campaign development. First was the declaration of the “country boy ticket”. We will probably never know if this was the intention of the Boakai ticket or whether a Machiavellian orchestration. Whatever the case, it was deviously orchestrated and Uncle Joe’s campaign has neither been able to explain this away nor escape the stigma of its sting. Second, his selection of a vice presidential candidate seemed to be a confirmation of the “country boy ticket”. Emmanuel Nuquay, a relative unknown with no record of having achieved anything, was announced.  He soon said they will not tolerate people who came and wanted their jobs. Rumors that he supported the campaign to the tune of 2 Million USD so he could become running mate to Uncle Joe have not helped.

There are a fair number of Liberians who also think that, in spite of the seeming differences, the Old Ma actually runs things at the Unity Party and that the act of the Party “shooting itself in the foot” is deliberate and orchestrated and intended to distract.  The rationale for this may become apparent as we proceed.

I have already mentioned the rumored courtship with George Weah of the CDC and need not mention Benoni Urey as his affiliation with former President Taylor would make it highly improbable that Delilah “as she is affectionately called” would engage him or his party directly. Speaking about deflection, why would they want to beat up on poor Jewel and say “she wants to bring back the Taylor agenda” when she does not even have the man’s money. Come on now, can someone please “show me the money”? Nobody even accuses Benoni about promoting Taylor’s agenda despite his access to Taylor’s Money, former fighters and who knows what other resources? Oh how these folks talk down to the Liberians that they have failed to educate. Is this the reason why we refuse to educate Liberians? The ultimate deception and deflection if you ask me!

Alright now, who does Delilah (as she is affectionately called) want to win this election? If you think that Delilah “a name of affection” has nothing to do with this, think again. In a recent article, she admitted that the sum total of her achievement amounted to “relative peace in Liberia”. MY PEOPLE WE GOT PEACE IN Liberia because the Liberian people want it so. Not the International Community. If we follow them we will go to war with ourselves.

Peace, for what and whom?

However the word “relative” is important here. Why was it necessary for Liberia to be peaceful? You don’t hear it much these days but the popular Millennium Development Goals (MDG) was cited in every official conversation and its targets were to be achieved by this administration. After two terms, what is the score? Let’s state the goals that were to be achieved by 2015 below:

1. Reduce by half the proportion of people living on less than a dollar a day and those who suffer from hunger. SCORE (0): Is gari yokor considered a meal?
2. Ensure that all boys and girls complete a full course of primary schooling. SCORE (What do you think?); “Education is a Mess”.
3. Eliminate gender disparity in primary and secondary education. To a large extent, girls are in school all over especially in Montserrado County.
4. Reduce by two-thirds the number of children who die before their fifth birthday. That one also is just God oh!
5. Reduce by three-quarters the number of women who die in childbirth. Child birth 10 women 2.
6. Halt and begin to reverse the spread of HIV/AIDS, malaria, and other killer diseases. SCORE (see above. We succeeded in adding another killer disease to the list, EBOLA.);
7. Ensure environmental stability, including halving the proportion of people without access to safe drinking water. SCORE (see LWSC). Let it rain, let it rain, let it rain!

We did not forget these promises, folks, but we let them get lax because we must get hit with the next wave of problems. Then they can come and practically own us in order to help us. They want us to go back to the soil. In the 1970s that was Tolbert’s mantra. 40+ YEARS LATER they telling us that’s what we must do.

We do have agricultural companies but they grow stuff for export. Sime Darby, Equatorial Palm Oil and Golden Veroleum are all here but we do not produce palm oil, palm butter or even Pankana (palm kernel) rings. And were it not for the global downturn in the steel industry, Arcelor Mittal would be booming. The point is, it is always said that “a stable environment is needed for investment”. So my friends, I completely concur with the Old Ma that she has been successful in providing stability. The question is, for whom and for what purpose? Certainly not to achieve the Millennium Development Goals that addresses the needs of the people.

Deal but don’t sell!

Back to elections. I see the former head of one of the biggest corporations in the world and my friend Alexander B. Cummings going all the way because he understands the agenda. Alex did not get discipline in Corporate America; Alex was composed in CWA when we hung out with Fulton Reeves and his sister Julia who went to Convent.

The work that was started by The Old Ma must continue. Flirting with other parties have only been deflections and distractions so that we would not notice where the real support was. Oppong is essentially a kind and generous person but will either not understand the agenda, or will not be in agreement with most of it. Furthermore, if any aspect of the code of conduct were upheld, then Cummings as well as Weah would be disqualified. But the main intended beneficiaries of that whole mess were Cummings and Weah. Cummings because he understands the agenda and Weah because of his proclivity to make a deal. Then on September 16, a campaign seemingly stuck in the mud was pulled out and turned into a horse race by none other than guess who? ”Sleepy Joe”. Go figure! Will “Sleepy Joe” agree to the deal? Folks a deal must be made for the soul of this country! We have yet to see whether the turnout was a march in support of “Uncle Joe” or a march in defiance of “Delilah”. Brilliant move if the latter! Now rumors abound about a merger between ANC and CDC. Are we worried that “Sleepy Joe” will not agree to a deal? Time will tell.

And so my prediction: There will be a first round success for Weah. Many believe, as I do, that Weah actually won both the 2005 and 2011 elections but “sold” them as we say in Liberia, especially in 2011, when, partnered with Winston Tubman (now defected to ANC), his supporters were asked not to show up at the polls. Winston Tubman, for many CDCians, represents a sellout; an unfortunate departure from whatever was good in his father’s legacy. Maybe he did hail from Togo after all!  He blew his greatest opportunity to represent the interest of the Liberian people, an opportunity handed to him on a “silver platter” by George Weah in the 2011 election. No wonder the young people do not trust us anymore! Let us stop selling out and someone please die for Liberia!

So George, my advice, if you win this one, don’t “sell” it. Nobody expects you to be the Minister of Finance, Education, Transport, Agriculture and Labor at the same time. Your success will ride on your ability to use the right people for the job. But, you seem to like to run for president because you miss the cheering of the crowd at IE, Tonierre, Monaco, Paris Saint Germaine, Chelsea and finally as “King George” in AC Milan. And so you enjoy the folks egging you on for a few weeks of exhilarating fanfare but when it comes down to the wire, you are just as afraid to take that position as you enjoy basking in all this election splendor. What do I mean? The boys in CDC say you are talking about reducing the term of a president from 6 to 4 years and it sounds just like you to try and do something good “but they will force you to serve what’s on the books”. “Then they will tie you to the chair to get their twelve years because they suffer behind you”. Yes George, I am also scared for you son, because I know you as a good boy. But with choices come sacrifice. Are you willing to make the sacrifice? If not, then stop wasting our time!

LIB needs love

Folks, the world you live in will be run by multinational companies. Ten years from now, the same man you buy tissue from in Nigeria will be the same you will buy from in Liberia, Guinea and Sierra Leone. And guess what? Surprise, surprise… MacDella Cooper, the only female candidate, will be there “picking up the pieces”. Cummings understands what they want and also what we must do and how to do it to get what we want. What we must hope for is that after such a long stay out of the country, that there is still an iota of patriotism to Liberia so that he will salvage something for the country. People point to the apartment building that he has erected. It is beautiful, but Lebanese do that too. I am talking about love, genuine love for the country, not a flamboyant show. So Alex, my friend, I think you are best qualified but please love OUR country. “Don’t hurt our country oh! Da our chicken egg”.

We are used to the fact that politicians say what they must to get elected. We do not see those shenanigans in you but the best have bowed to the pressures that come with the job. Our astute Harvard graduate could only boast of being a peacekeeper after 12 years when the billions in foreign direct investment could easily have overshadowed that claim. Arcelor Mittal alone was 2 Billion. But the fact is, no Liberian is clear today on how the country will benefit from those activities and many ordinary Liberians are worse off for it. That is why the “peace” must take center stage. Another clever deflection; or deception? I’m confused.

Oppong thought he was footballer but the Old Ma can dribble more than him…only she did not score the Millennium Development Goal for the Liberian People. And as for MacDella, well, I love you too. I think Liberia needs a hug after being “banged” for so long. What a refreshing affectionate alternative to these tough-talking, do-nothing, gutless, heartless, warmongering controllers of our destiny! Liberia needs affection and tender loving care which McDella seems to have enough of. At least it will ease the pain if we must bend over. As for me, I am going to Rofa for the “erection”. And Alex, get a vat of Vaseline and grease up son, for love is in the air. Take it like a man for the people but not with the people. This time, In the Cause of the People, the Struggle Discontinues!

By Henry Mamulu

For us to survive as a strong nation, our motto must become ‘one for all, all for one’. Sadly, that is not going to happen. We prefer ‘this is our time, your time finish’.

Baby Shad, George Henries, Jimmy Pierre, Boywee (Weseh), Bobbin and Randolph McClain, Romeo, Stephen and Chuchu Horton, Alex Brewer, Marbue Dennis, Marbue Richards, Nat Baker, for God’s sake, your tell me why your not defending the legacy of your Ma and Pa. For true, true; your will do anything for government job and local favor.

The boy who used to live with your Ma and Pa and who now controls the conversation in Liberia say your Ma and Pa were less Liberian than his Ma and Pa. He also say “the Settler children ain’t worth foosah, they ain’t know nothing and can only take drugs”.

Right now in Liberia you cuss the Indigenous man Ma and he can hurt you bad way. Not the Settler boy. You can take your finger and juke it in his “MA butt” and he will not say nothing.

You know the old people say “joke is joke, play is play but putting your finger in a dead man’s a**, is damn provoking.”  Oh, to you, you not dying? Sit down there and let “bugger bug (termites) eat your brain!” Since you cannot defend your people but will sell your soul for government job and local favor, and small thing, let me say this about them.

I knew your parents from living in Monrovia in the 60s and 70s. Your Ma and Pa were not perfect and some of them were down right rotten. However, they had seen enough great men and women growing up in Monrovia, both Indigenous and Settler. These men and women were of such inspiration that they were occasionally motivated to do things that made us happy and proud. I must admit Monrovia seemed a friendlier town when your Ma and Pa were alive.

For example, James A.A. Pierre coming to Sports Commission nearly every day after work to watch us play basketball. Frank Tolbert “drinking drinks” with us on weekends on the Lane. The Legends of Lango Lippy and Teetee Glapor. Rocheforte Padmore leaving government for good because Steve Tolbert insulted him by putting his foot up on his desk. He slapped it off. Tubman’s modernization Plan and Tolbert’s Higher Heights. Steve Tolbert with Mesurado and Harry Morris in Agriculture. Notwithstanding a few missteps in Liberia’s post-repatriation history, the progressive examples are many.

Your forefathers forged a nation out of nothing. Their willingness to brave the treacherous seas to return to their homeland, now unfamiliar to them, is arguably history’s most poignant show of rejection and escape from the evil throes of slavery. Years later, all that we are is of them but you are satisfied, sitting supinely on your behinds, oblivious, no, ignorant, still no, unconcerned that their contributions are being underrated, yea, even swept into the abyss of history’s dustbin. You useless, worthless children! Are your parents not worth defending?

Tell the boy who now controls the conversation about how your Ma and Pa fuss the time he brought his son he had with the girl on the farm to stay with your. Or how he sent his outside daughter to CWA. Here is a suggestion: perhaps you could host a parade down Broad Street in your parents’ honor. In America the Ku Klux Klan DOES IT. Oh they can rage hell with them but they come out and strut and shake their stuff. Or you scared of what the boy who now controls the conversation will say. “Looka those damn Settler asses! They finish! Their time nah pass!” SO WHAT? AT LEAST YOU MARCHED! And don’t worry about shaking it: they already say you gay!

Or you prefer to do what appears as the thing that you do. You prefer to “Nicodemus,” the boy who lived with your for small thing then you can go flex to Ambition, Red Lion, or Anglers. When the “hopojoe” (street walker) asks you, “papey weh your name?” You can haughtily, with an air of pseudo-supremacy say, “Richard Henries the third”, as if you ever got up to defend your parents or grandparents since their murder nearly forty years ago. What kind of nonsense is this? I vex now!

Would there have been a “Liberia” if your forefathers had not made the great emancipation move? If they had not rejected slavery to venture back into the so-called “dark continent”? No one can say but my guess is probably not. The land would be here but would probably form territories in Guinea, Sierra Leone and Ivory Coast and we would be known as Guineans, Sierra Leoneans or Ivorians. Several times in our history this territory was sought after by the French or the British and some even taken. We are called “Liberians” today because of our forefathers’ bravery, fortitude, resilience and quest for freedom during the days when black people were kept in zoos as animals for the entertainment of the Caucasian (white people) audiences. And even while our kind was in zoos, your great great great grandmothers were quilting for the queen of England while your great great great grandfathers were defending the terrain that you now lay claim to. AND YOU ARE NOT PROUD ENOUGH OF THEM TO HONOR THEM EVEN FOR THAT?

Maybe for true, your ain’t worth “foosah” (fart). Perhaps the stories of your treachery, even during the time that your parents were alive may have some truth to them. Let’s get serious here.

Well excuse me. This thing is becoming bastardly. The One Affectionately called Medusa betrayed everything those Settler boys did. To say she was a lover of freedom may not be true. The effect of her betrayal on the average Liberian, in my opinion, is far greater than the effect on the Tolberts and Taylors whom she decimated. I say that because the Tolberts and Taylors have passed on but the ordinary Liberians and their generations are doomed to continue suffering because of her “freedom fighting” filled with falsehood. You can find her undermining governments as far back as Tubman. Poor Oppong!

And then there is her love for the Weeks’; enough to make me jealous. I had always wondered what made Victor Weeks (he changed his name to Vittorio A. Jesus Weeks) brave enough to publish the paper entitled “The Revelation” in 1974. Led by Keith Neville A. Best, along with Ernestein Cassell, Patrick Burrowes, Aaron Fallah Brown (deceased), Othello Brandy and Willard Russell, that paper was published on regular letter-sized paper and distributed free of charge weekly around Monrovia. The paper always contained scathing criticisms of the Tolbert Government. If you think Costa or Sando Johnson is harsh, then you did not read “The Revelation”. It can easily be classified as a forerunner and up there in importance among the elements that caused dissent in the Liberian society. And this boy was our age. He made us feel inferior. Here we were studying, not totally oblivious to all of the “ills” of our society because, for God sake, “it was a one party system”. But Victor knew it all. And his bravery to put it out there. WOW!! It got so bad that one day we decided to march against the Government and stand behind the ‘bravery’ of our age mate. That was until the police came out and fired rubber bullets over our heads. This is 1974!! Victor was jailed for a short while and then the ever conciliatory President Tolbert (Weh day man will do? This was one of our sons! A prince!) would give him and some other student leaders representation in the legislature. But what made this Weeks boy so brave to openly defy the whole Government? All we could do was stare in awe and admiration. Victor would later be involved in a car accident along with his wife, the beautiful Vivian Sayeh and suddenly, this most popular and most influential personality ‘slipped into darkness’. Yes people! The uprising against the Tolbert Government did not start in West Point or New Kru Town or even in some village in rural Liberia. It started in our own “Settler” community. At one time Victor was The Prince.

Look, nobody want to be my friend; alright?

Folks however, Steve Tolbert had practically stolen the lucrative uniform business from the Weeks family. This could be Victor’s revenge factor but there was more to the Revelation than that. That paper was well financed and when you saw their (the Weeks family) popularity in the previous government, well those were “things that made you go umm”.

Now right after the Rice Riot of April 14th, 1979, President Tolbert’s son-in-law, Senator Shad Tubman Jr., was accused of being a co-conspirator. Tolbert got on the air and said on television: “Senator Shad Tubman could not do this to me”. Well as Monrovia was being stripped of everything on that fateful Saturday, I saw Senator Tubman driving around in a red car, perhaps a Mustang, but it was fancy. Every checkpoint he got to he raised his fist in solidarity with the rioters and they in turn greeted him with a chorus of approval. It appeared to me that he was either involved in the action or was in strong solidarity with it. Either way, it seemed he had betrayed the President, his father-in-law, and the nation. However, he was truly beloved. He was Baby Shad, the son of the President who pampered us the most. Shad who was given the most, and drank from the wealth of Liberia’s fortune, gave back “foosah key” to this country. Before you die, you must hear it. Senator, Baby Shad, you betrayed us. So die in Maryland USA, and let them bring your body home for a State Funeral at Centennial Pavilion.

And then the Free Town man, Dr. Amos Sawyer and Co, continued to brainwash us in history and psychology classes at the University from around 1973 to about 1978. I wonder what they were doing at Cuttington College (where Dew Mayson was) in those days and how much these guys were paid to betray their country? If the general consensus today is that Tolbert was arguably the most progressive President, preaching and doing “higher heights”, “total involvement” and “mats to mattresses”, while achieving self-sufficiency in agricultural production, bringing Liberia’s credit ratings to its highest in its history, educating the highest number of Liberians in all of the disciplines in all countries including USA, Russia, Romania, UK and others and, in general, raised the living standard of all Liberians irrespective of tribe or origin, THEN WHY is history recording this man as the lynchpin to Liberia’s downfall? Only in settings where we establish that Liberia was sold out by sons who prospered at the drinking fountain of the GOL then we start to cry out: “Tolbert was the best president. He brought BCADP, LCADP, NCADP (agricultural development programs in the counties rivaling any in the world), He gave contracts to only Liberians for the OAU and hosted OAU conference in Liberia, He educated most of us who are anybody in Liberia in universities all over the world and yada yada yada”; but for the ultimate sacrifice that he gave his life in the service of Liberia, has his family put its best foot forward to defend his legacy? Not Billy. In 69-70, Billy Tolbert Jr. told me about his band Wild Thing and said, “And the wind cries Billy”. I am in sympathy with the family and even in sympathy with Liberia for losing such a great man but, to see his family cowering in the face of people who, directly or indirectly, may have been involved in his destruction is disheartening for me. How many of you also have treacherous histories that will reveal your own dirty hands when you try to tell the stories? And all this from a Tubman boy.

So if it seems that Oppong is losing his way to you, well look at the company he keeps at night and then you will see the message in the madness.

Then there was Bacchus Matthews, the Don King of Liberia, a former State Department employee of the Liberian Consulate in New York, the story is famously told about his part in the misappropriation of money that was discovered when Steve Tolbert ordered an audit of all of the Liberian foreign missions. Bacchus was not an “activist” at the time. He fled the hands of justice living in the US for a period and then returned to Liberia with more the bravado than Victor Weeks. Bacchus died a few years back and was given a hero’s sending off. “The father of the revolution” they chanted. This was more than twenty years after the death of Tolbert and if someone had taken the time to record history properly and honor their parents’ legacy, even the common folk who were encouraged to parade in the streets would have perhaps had second thoughts.

The True Whig Party was changing internally, evolving as it were from 1977. It was not fast enough and not transparent enough but was happening. More and more “indigenous” Liberians were becoming educated and upon return would have been assimilated into the GOL. Even me, I was made Assistant Director of Broadcasting at the Ministry of Information. Charles Gbenyon, Joe Morris, Gabriel Nimley were all under me. This was 1977-1978. After the Rice Riot of 1979, Dr. Peter Naigow took over the Press Union, they drove my behind out and I ended up at Cathedral School just in time for the death of Sister Rose Gabriel.

You see folks, this crowd is gullible. However the only ones willing to tell stories are those that have the hidden agendas. If the stories were told, the “father” of the revolution would probably have been hailed as the “son” or “grandson” of the revolution since the forerunners (Victor, the One Affectionately called Medusa and whoever else) would have been known.

Forty years later, as I look at the constitution of the Ellen Johnson Sirleaf Government, I begin to understand the source of Victor’s bravado. The Weeks abound in the Government: Antoinette (Public Works Minister and then transferred to ECOWAS when she appeared not to be too popular at Public Works), Angelique (Telecommunications Authority Head), Milton (Central Bank Governor along with his brother Charles who is rumored to be a Weeks), Ophelia (President of the University of Liberia), Kimmie (the snotty nosed obstruction to LWSC’s development) and so on. Also, people who are associated with Weeks seem to be preferred. Recall that Victor was married to a Sayeh and a Sayeh was Sirleaf’s first Finance minister. Could it be that Alexander Cunmmings’ bravado is also linked to his Weeks connection? Things that make you go hmmmm!!

Then there are the McClains, cousins to Ian, Jimmy, Connie and Bushy Yhap. These were my school mates and age mates. A Yhap is a Yhap. Connie was a conservative, Connie remained conservative. Jimmy was a Hendrix, Jimmy still is a Hendrix. Ian was your friend then and Ian is your friend now. Nothing changed.

Prior to 1980, the year of the coup d’état in which President Tolbert was murdered, all of the McClains except one, had Settler names. Genevieve (Ian’s mother), Emily (J. E. Benjamin’s mother), Florence (married a Nigerian, Dean of the medical college), Charlotte (married Karneh and then Dean), Rev. John Weseh (former Minister of State), Jeanette (remembered everyone’s birthday), Vashti (played Maria in the Sound of Music), Edward B. (popularly called Bobbin), Randolph (PhD in Chemistry and VP for DuPont), Charles (Agricultural Economist), Louis (No one knew his Louis name. Everyone referred to him by his “Kru” name, “Nuku” — a real cool dude, and finally Samuel (or Nuks, the accountant). Their father, Edward B. McClain, Sr., worked at the Ministry of Finance for forty two years and was only retired after Steve Tolbert became Minister. EB Sr. was extremely honest and as collector of taxes could account for every penny collected for the GOL. Not so with most other parts of the Ministry of Finance (then known as the Department of the Treasury). According to Francis Nah Wolo, our noted local historian, Steve retired EB Sr. because he was not going to be polite in his shake up of the Department and as an older uncle, did not want EB Sr. to hear “the words that he was going to use” to shake up that place. Steve was shrewd and direct, a quality that helped in his success over the years. He was also the younger brother to Florence Tolbert McClain, the wife of EB Sr. But we digress. The history of Liberia will be hard to finalize without the story of the McClain family.

It was a proud day for us when Randolph McClain (aka Kpokpo Weah Worjoloh) was appointed to head NOCAL, the National Oil Company. Finally, we thought, an appointment based on merit, qualifications and certainly not any particular likeness for the McClains. John Weseh and Ellen Johnson Sirleaf were classmates along with Willie Jones, Dunstan McCauley, Clavender Parker, Ambrose Wotorson, etc. But that closeness did not score Weseh any points and he was venomously excluded from the EJS Government even though his brother Bobbin was preferred (that is another story that needs to be told). Read my first article, “Alone Again Naturally”; it may help. But back to Randolph. Most people only came to know that Randolph’s wife was a Weeks at her funeral.

Aretha Franklin had not yet made the song “Respect” and we had gone to Palm Grove on Decoration Day. I was in love with Cia Richards and followed her to a grave near St. Samuel School. At the grave was Gledy Badio, Fatu Dennis, Theresa Kenneh and Darling Gbenyon and Baitunde a.k.a Aurelius Weeks (later married Julia Cummings, the sister of the presidential aspirant Alexander Cummings) who was introduced as Darling’s brother. On the grave was the name Aurelia. Randolph McClain got out of a taxi (1966-67) and walked to us. He wore blue jeans and white t-shirt. He took out a piece of paper from his pocket upon which he asked Darling to be his girlfriend.

So during her funeral when her family came to sympathize, most people were surprised to know she was a Weeks. But we old Monrovia boys knew the “gees”. Darling was a beautiful woman and a kind soul; a true genius in the purest sense and clever as a whip. So was Gledy Badio, Lady Richards and even Ophelia Weeks. I am sure Darling is singing with the Angels in Heaven right now. I have no doubt that she knew the kind of sway she could have in an Ellen-led government but she never sought a job in the Liberian government. Perhaps she understood the circumstances surrounding her brother Charles Gbenyon’s death and would have no part to play in the political games. Like Victor in the 1970’s, Charles Gbenyon displayed a bravado that wowed all of us in the 1980’s. He was younger but we “looked up” to him. Charismatic on TV reading the news, his performance rivaled Jonathan Refell in his prime in the 1960’s. It is said that his final act of bravery was to have gotten a videotaped interview from Emmet Harmon, the Head of the Election Commission during the controversial 1985 election between Jackson Doe and Samuel Doe. Isn’t it ironic that the two guys could have the same surname but be mortal enemies? This interview, it is said, was potent enough to cause a nullification of the election result which gave Samuel Doe the victory by a landslide. He was captured and we really don’t know for sure how he was killed but the rumors say that he was decapitated in the executive mansion on Samuel Doe’s orders. Today, I know that Doe did not order his death. Doe was a good guy who got caught up with Liberia’s betrayers just like Oppong has.

Yes, Darling understood very well and chose to stay away from these situations that brought horror to her family, but what about her husband Randolph? You see, my people, the McClain family was directly related to the Tolbert family. President Tolbert’s eldest sister was married to Randolph’s father, E. B. McClain, Sr. During the 1980 coup d’état, when all the McClains were in hiding, Randolph moved freely about with one of Samuel Doe’s closest allies and his classmate George Boley. He seized the opportunity to revert to his Kru name and eventually left the country, living in the USA for the next 35 years until he was called by Ellen. But now I believe that Ellen did not call him because he was a McClain, or because he had a Ph.D., or even because he was a former VP of the US chemical giant DuPont. It is disheartening to note that she called him because he was a part of the revolution that began the destruction of Liberia and a member of the clique. If Darling was not going to take her apology for sacrificing Charles then she would do the next best thing, enlist her husband as she had always done apparently. It was also necessary to engage a former operative, in whom she had confidence, knowing fully well what was going to go down at NOCAL.

No Settler man liked the boy from the farm so much that he called him his junior. Chea Cheapo was Joseph Chesson Jr. until he joined the ungodly and they overthrew and murdered the True Whig Party. Look, my man, Russia was a Christian Empire that worshipped God and built Cathedrals in His honor. They replaced Christianity with Communism. What was the God of Communism?  The Will of MAN! The point that I am making is that the treachery of our generation has been so great and shameful, no wonder we cannot celebrate our parents’ victories. How can we, when we have been undermining our parents even during their lifetimes? And then we try to twist history and encourage the new age historians with lies simply because we think that this will sweep our misdeeds under the rug.

Then there’s the story of James A. A Pierre, Sr., former Chief Justice of the Republic of Liberia in the Tolbert Administration. It is said that he recused himself from the Gberrie case as he recognized that it would be a conflict of interest given his position. What an honorable man! Many will be too young to know about this case. Gberrie was a store boy working for a Lebanese. He was accused of having stolen a candy in the Center Street Supermarket. The Lebanese man choked him to get his candy back and killed him. When news of this incident surfaced, there was a huge uproar by the citizens demanding justice for Gberrie. It was a politically charged situation threatening to cause a national disruption. The government was obliged to convince the public that the trial would be free and fair and the Chief Justice’s recusal would be seen to be testament of the commitment to transparency in the case. But Lebanese hold together, at least in Liberia and our historians reveal that the Lebanese community raised $500,000.00 to defend their fellow national. Notwithstanding his father’s recusal, Cllr. James E. Pierre agreed to represent the Lebanese.  Based on the name and connections the Lebanese was granted bail and quickly fled the country. Now the uproar was even more. The locals, not being able to distinguish between James A. A. Pierre and James E. Pierre, placed the responsibility for this escape squarely on the Chief Justice’s head since they both were called “Jimmy Pierre” but the father was more widely known at the time. This grudge appeared to remain in the society until the 1980 coup came. The rest, as they say, is history. Who is to say that this had a bearing on his murder in 1980? But this is the story that we know and so far, there is no rebuttal in any archives.

As we listened to the proceedings of the 1980 tribunal that tried the thirteen Liberian officials before their execution and murder, we heard many honorable men beg and plead for their lives. Incidentally, more than thirteen were tried but some were set free. Jackson Doe, who would become standard bearer and run for president against Samuel Doe in 1985, was Tolbert’s Minister of Education and I couldn’t tell you exactly why he was set free but my guess is that he was perceived as an “indigenous man” (whatever that is). The fight and destruction was brought exclusively to the SETTLER DESCENDANTS. He begged profusely, claiming that he had not been corrupt and did not possess anything. However, I do not recall that he overtly denounced Tolbert. In fact, none of the accused made any overt denunciation of their former boss except for P. Clarence Parker, Jr., Chairman of the National Investment Commission (NIC) under Tolbert. Parker was the husband of Clavender Bright Parker, classmate and best bud to Ellen Johnson Sirleaf. Now you can imagine how Satan felt when Jesus died on Good Friday. However, Easter was coming. Liberia must have EASTER.

Now most people would like to believe that the events that transpired between April 12, 1980 when President Tolbert was murdered and April 22, 1980 when the other 13 government officials were murdered at the poles behind the Barclay Training Center (BTC) and on to the murder of A. B. Tolbert and Varney Dempster, were random acts brought on by the frenzy of the coup. Perhaps there may be some truth to that but I see it a little differently. First of all, not all of the people who were sent to the Tribunal were killed: Jackson Doe, Case in point. Jackson would survive this trial to join Ellen Johnson Sirleaf in the founding of the Liberia Action Party, where Jackson Doe ran for President against Samuel Doe and lost, and Ellen Johnson Sirleaf ran for Senator for Montserrado County and won by a landslide. She refused to take her seat when her party did not achieve an all-out win and her party claimed that the election was fraudulent. Coming back to 1980, there were those who did not appear before the tribunal but were executed anyway. John Sherman, Tolbert’s Minister of Commerce, was said to have been taken straight from his office on April 22, 1980 and straight to the pole. In all, I don’t know how many people totally were tried but only 5 were found guilty. The tribunal itself changed leadership three times starting with Frank Senkpeni, who, when suspected of “siding with the “Settlers”, was changed. I don’t remember the names of the other tribunal heads.  Gabriel Tucker, the son-in-law of President Tubman and Tolbert’s Minister of Public Works, was said to have been protected by Samuel Doe himself and it was through his instrumentality that Lawrence Norman (engineer at Public Works and son-in-law of President Tolbert) and Tonia King (also Tolbert’s son-in-law and his head of the National Bureau of Investigation – NBI). The recommendation to utilize these gentlemen in Public Works and elsewhere was said to have come directly from Gabriel Tucker to Samuel Doe who gave his approval for their safety. So if the randomness and confusion dictated the mood, then where did this rationale come from?

So with this background, we go back to P. Clarence Parker, Jr. His testimony was contrary to all of the “defendants” at the tribunal and may have been choreographed. After all, he was married to Ellen’s best friend and classmate. It would not be unreasonable to assume (and this is an assumption) that Parker might have been close enough to know (and probably be complicit in) what was going down and would have been given assurances by his compatriots (Ellen and Clavender) that he would be safe once he was in denial of Tolbert (with an opposing testimony). So he went along with the script, except, his partners had no intention of coming to his rescue and left him there to die. If Gabriel Tucker could save Lawrence Norman and Tonia King, there is no reason why Ellen could not have saved Clarence Parker, especially since the “sons and daughters” of the “revolution” were so revered and respected in the days immediately following the coup. Bacchus Matthews – Minister of Foreign Affairs, H. Boima Fahnbulleh – Minister of Education, George Boley – Minister of State for Presidential Affairs, Dew Mayson – Chairman of NIC, Ellen Johnson Sirleaf – Minister of Finance. P. Clarence Parker, Jr. had probably served his purpose, possibly providing insider information on Tolbert and the government, and was now expendable. May his soul also rest in peace!

“The Enemy of the Black man is the Black man’, that was a famous saying from Marcus Garvey. You heard Bob Marley sing “they sold Garvey for rice”. Where? Liberia! The rice? Pusawa! Oh now you see it.  Marcus Garvey, a Jamaican, lived in Harlem USA and ran a successful business — ‘Black Star” shipping line.  He got in contact with the Nigerian, Former Mayor of Free Town and President of Liberia, C.D.B. KING.  It was right after World War ONE and Liberia had the first Pro-Poor Government.

It was agreed that through Black Star Shipping, Liberia would get engineers, doctors, lawyers, soldiers, agriculturists, teachers (all black) and some good cash. In return, Garvey would be allowed to settle in Cape Palmas and then disperse throughout the country to do work. An exploratory team was sent and soon followed by a Harvard graduate W. E. B. Dubois. Yes, the great Dubois who formed the NAACP in America. Dubois instead introduced King to Firestone and they “freed OFF” Garvey. This was what really broke Garvey’s heart. Soon he was arrested in the USA on charges of mail fraud when he couldn’t deliver on his promise of repatriating paid subscribers and they “Ghankayed” him. Dubois himself became disenchanted, rejected democracy, became a communist, moved to France and died undistinguished.

This is the same Firestone that you say contract too long. Well when the Tolbert Brothers — Willie, President; Steve Allen, Minister of Treasury; Frank Emmanuel, Pro Temp; went after Firestone on behalf of the Liberian People, we sang “Steve in the ocean, plane crashed, Frank on the pole, murdered, Willie catching bullet”. Your taking it for fun.

The betrayal began early. In my book “Calm Before The Storm” see how they play E. J. ROYE. If not for Tubman that man name was going to remain spoiled forever. In “Letters From Liberia” read about “Freed Men of Color” reporting other “Freed Men of Color” to their former masters in the USA. Today we all have someone else we report to. We call them “Our Investors”. At the inauguration of Oppong all the hustlers had some kind of “scallywag” behind him he called an “Investor”. IT’S IN THE DNA.

And now (drum roll) and put on the song by the OJAYS, “Back Stabbers”, for there has never been a greater betrayer (Kolongo Luo betrayed Quiwonkpa; the Progressives betrayed Christianity for Mamom; MacArthur for Peace; you betrayed your wife for your Boyfriend,) then this. It is with honor that I introduce Liberia’s greatest betrayer.

Folks Kendajah was destroyed, home to Liberian culture and play ground of the Presidents. Ducor Palace, even though the money was found for its renovation, remained zero. Hotel Africa, zero. Unity Conference Center, where all of the African Presidents assembled for the OAU in 1979, zero. 26 DAY WAS abandoned even by Mary Broh — the hardest working woman on the block — and when Kimmie was chosen to give the 26 oration, that to me was a disrespect to the dignity of the occasion. Christmas, you can’t feel it self; E. J. Roye Building, never negotiated with the True Whig Party to fix it; The Executive Mansion, she and Uncle Bobbin chop all that repair money; Lone Star Foot Ball Team and Miss Liberia contest. I guess “when you marry in the toilet, your say it loud, “you got to cut the cake”. J. F. K. Hospital, Just for Killing and a total sore, Newport and Tubman High Schools not fit for chickens. The average boy and girl in Liberia, everything she gets she was on her back and he, they got him on his knees for those Nikes. Shit, that’s bad.

So from the level of destruction, one knowledgeable enough can determine if it was a crime of passion or just someone at the wrong place at the wrong time. The wiping away of Afghanistan was a crime of passion. Someone put their heart into it. The destruction of Liberia was passionate for the wreckage was thoughtful, methodical and deliberate. Afghanistan hosted Bin Laden who was allegedly responsible for 911 so there is justification, but what have we done to deserve a thoughtful and methodical decimation? We moved from one mess to a bigger mess not able to stop the skid throughout Ellen’s regime.

The story goes and I found it to be reasonable that the “One Affectionately Call Medusa” had a sweet heart, an Accountant who worked for the Tolberts. He was a ‘Down the Coaster”. People from Ghana, Sierra Leone, and Nigeria were known as Down the Coasters. My man started loving to some of the girlfriends of Tubman’s cabinet. The Cabinet reported to Tubman. Now, Tubman considered himself the Rooster in the Hen House. When opportunity presented itself, Tubman grabbed Mr. Sweet Heart and whipped him good for picking in the Executive Pepper Bush. My man never fully recovered from the beating. When dying, he willed the One Affectionately called Medusa a plot of land but the young Harvard Liberian lawyer did not give the One Affectionately Call Medusa her plot. She got the a** as any woman scorned would.

It is said that she followed Tubman all the way to the clinic in London and on his sick bed made Chicken Pepper Soup out of the rooster in the hen house. She waited all these years until the time was right to deal with the lawyer. The time came in the famous Global Witness Case: Big Boy1, Big Boy 2.

On the day of the trial in 2017, nearly all the lawyers for the defense came in SUVs. The state, Kekeh, Hold It Hold It, taxi and Duazeh (old car). In Liberia that’s reason enough for a hung jury. Then came in the accused.

The Harvard Lawyer, 250 lbs. sat on the front bench. Alex Tyler, 500 lbs., front bench; Richard Tolbert, 400 lbs., front bench; Eugene Shannon, 250 lbs., the same front bench; E. C. B. JONES, buck quarter soaking wet, could not fit on that bench. The judge came and read the proceedings. If he had passed 2^nd grade then I got Masters. The man could not read. Then they cut off the air cool and with all those brothers on the same bench, “they sweated profusely”. Two weeks later, the Harvard Lawyer fell out from her stress and the case was over.

Liberia was a Christian nation that allowed all other religions into her gates and they flourished. We had a sacred word from God “Ah Yah” that brought sympathy to any situation. She brought in the Progressives, they abused God and replaced his word with “Weki” in 1980. She wanted “the Indigenous People” liberated but refuse to work with an indigenus man who was Head of State. Then she found Taylor locked up and gave him a proposal he could not refuse. They came and killed up then jailed Taylor. Medusa took over in the garb of a mother but only Pure Cane Juice flowed from her taytay.

I was home for the elections and had been home since 2011. Modern day Liberia was created for CDC one failure after the other. We heard our country grind to a halt and no one stooped it. There was this one time the Minister of Finance reported that he gave the people at Health Ministry 11 million USD. Health Ministry said he did not and on the air they went back and forth. The President told them to shut up. The money was never accounted for; people were shifted to other posts and the “Band Played On’. But the people heard it but were too busy dying from Ebola the next year.

At this same time all you got out of the Police Force were stories of sex, young girls, guys, drunkenness as Monrovia slipped further on the road called “Perdition”. The people heard and wondered “are these people sound”?  The only piece of production I saw was when Ledgerhood put that television up and built his new studios. The people wondered. Even the unborn heard that hope was coming and its name CDC. So when Elections came, WE were tired with the whole lot and we decided anything was better than these bad people.

Today, the rate keeps climbing, food is expensive, gasoline unaffordable and school is about to open. The young girls are ready to get on their backs for that phone and young boy on his knee biting into the pillow for a pair of NIKES.  All this was done to us intentionally and all this was orchestrated by the One Affectionately Called Medusa. This is not for fun or children.

Finally, any GROUP of Liberians who attain power, become unopposed, the cancer of “Stay Long” will render you impotent. The next man will put his finger in your butt.  May God bless and keep us till we meet again. In the Cause of the People, the Struggle Continues.

The One Affectionately Call Medusa, Queen of Sheba, Aunty, Iron Lady, Madam, Grand Matron is   the one who denounced her Settler past only when she felt it was totally destroyed.

By: Kewellen Dolleh Written By: Henry Mamulu

If I am going to blame someone for the place Liberia has reached, I will blame Almighty God. It was God who saw and decided that these two peoples with different cultures but the same heart and the same origins could live in peace and harmony. These people with the same soul and color could form an exemplary nation for all the world to see. God never saw them killing each other; it was of their own making even though He saw Cain kill Abel. In a way, the Cain and Abel saga was somewhat expected or should I say anticipated by God but it seems the Liberia saga even surprised Him.

I was approached by the ardent self-proclaimed mouthpiece of the progresses of the Mighty Congress for Democratic change Kewellen Dolleh after I posed a question on FaceBook that has not been answered. The question was, “Did millions get stolen from the Central Bank of Liberia?” Dolleh called and said. “Momo you shared some concerns on Facebook and so I called.” “The Congo people are bullies who are bullying us again. They claim the President can’t read and his clothes are funny. They like clothes business for I remember in E. J. Goodridge Elementary School, they bullied me (teased me or picked on me) about the kind of clothes I wore and how my English was funny. They have started again.”

I stopped Dolleh and asked him to name a few bullies.

“There is this this guy Augustus McCritty he is an olden times Architect. Then there is Wobie Henries, Richard Henries grandson. And of course the CID man who can cuss.”

I interjected and asked; “Rodney”? “Yes, Chesson” was his response. I was relieved that he did not say John T, Chief Allen or Alex Cummings or someone else in this gang.

I said, “Dolleh, McCritty is probably older than me. People from his generation have all retired and now live off of their pension. Medicine for high blood pressure, diabetes and gout carry all their money. McCritty that Tubman boy and misses the Monrovia he knew.

I continued; “Wobie is two bottles of Jumping Deer away from becoming a ZOGO. Wobie is no use even to his Mame. Rodney for God sakes is crying for the whole world to see,  a total breakdown.” I went on to say. ”It was you the Self-Proclaimed Official Mouth Piece who said CDC did not have time for anyone or anything connected to 1847 and Liberia before 2017. That statement isolated many generations and send men like Rod over the edge.  The cold now hit Rodney’s brain in Rhode Island when all he wants is to come patch up his Ma Busubasa (old Congo house) on Benson Street and he sees his death coming as our generation and even those younger are bidding us farewell. So he will cuss straight to the grave”.

I went even further to remind him; “You forget that YOU created Rodney. Rodney’s father Joseph Chessen not only brought his ‘Kewellen Dolleh’ into his home, but bypassed Rodney in favor of making his ‘Kewellen Dorleh’ his JUNIOR and naming him as such: Joseph J. Chesson, Jr. Well, during the 1980 so-called coup, his ‘Kewellen Dolleh’ presided over his murder and execution and even erased the name that would ensure the Joseph J. Chesson lineage, changing his name to Chea Cheapoo. I am not making any excuses for Rodney, YOUR creation, but I will note that even under the extraordinary circumstances of the 1980 ‘coup’, Rodney’s case was special. He was already cracky, your killed his Pa on the Poles and that ate another quarter of his brain. He smoked the rest to Tedway Badio ma ghetto, Rodney gone”.

Dolleh said, “Momo, crazy man can start war”.   

Through all this I felt Kewellen’s honesty and isolation for the things he and others experienced.

Let us relax a moment because our country is about to melt down. There is this beautiful, intelligent, charming Loma lady Kolu Basah. I met Kolu at Antoinette Tubman when she was a student in the 60s at LTI, B.W.I. or somewhere. Kolu them came down to play Convent. We heckled and bullied that school nearly into tears. But Kolu did not quit.  Kolu came back with her basketball team and beat up on the Monrovia girls. Before long we were saying, “hello Kolu Basah”. Oh I wish that CDC could meet a distinguished woman from the interior before she dies.

Back to our narrative. Dolleh said; “Momo. Even the Ellen people don’t know how they gave us this power.  It was God but I know how they lost the country. Selfishness.”

I opined that I thought the Ellen government was the most selfish, arrogant, mean spirited, faggot oriented, lesbian loving, straight sex hating, scared of ‘country people’ group of people I had experienced.  Even the ‘country people’ they hired where scared of their fellow indigenes. They did not even attend ‘each and other’ (as we say) parties. And the commoner watched and marveled at their ignorance. Oh you think all the common people in the country are ‘country’ or even ‘indigenous’?

Dolleh went on to say that I should talk to my people to tone down the bullying; the ‘John Hard’ (morale) from Wobie, WHO EVEN Chippy Coleman said was messed up.  His desire was that CDC relaxes her militancy, not out of fear but compromise and survival.

Well on behalf of my generation let me take this moment to say ‘Your None Mind Yah’. I am sorry we made you feel so inferior in your own country. Let God give you the strength to grant your forgiveness as I have humbled myself to ask for it in the first place.

Now to Dolleh. Play is play, joke is joke but when you take your finger and juke it a dying man behind, you will provoke him. Congo people do not desire much. Primarily we need an enabling environment to go to the farm without fear of retribution and an encouraging climate to do business. In general we like business. Perhaps a deal could be struck where we are allowed to run the economy while you run politics. Your like to be called Honorable and its cool.

Can I recommend something? The President needs to do a Quick Impact Project. I am not saying I know more but just suggesting. A project that will involve the whole country and not just a community. Manneh needs to raise money and clean up the Emergency at J.F.K. Hospital, rescue Phebe, and gave oxygen to Jackson Doe in Tapita. Your need to raise 2 million dollars. How?

Beg Amara Koneh, Sebastian Muah, Augustine Gharfoun, Robert Sirleaf, Ellen Sirleaf, Uncle Joe, Alex Cummings. Ben Urey, Edwin Snow and for God sakes your be kind to vice President Jewel Howard Taylor. That woman husband is in jail, we do not like it when we see her being bullied. Dolleh it really hurts. That’s a woman there and alone and so so men beating her? What happened to Ah Yah! For this one job business, take time with Jewel. She can be gronah oh, hopojoe oh, we nah care; that our Chicken egg.   As Legerhood Rennie say, “Uncle Lou like talk so, let’s talk so”.

Finally, and this is just my two cents not because I know, we need an economic summit hosted by His Illustriousness President George Weah. We should call all our best business men world wide. Ethelbert Cooper, Richelieu Dennis, Alex Cummings, Siaka Toure, Richard Tolbert of Mesurado, Economists like George Funderson, Theo Dennis, Ben Urey, George Molu, Samuel Twe and who ever and guest speaker like Dangote. There is still a window of opportunity and CDC must seize it now.

We thank Mr. Kewellen Dolleh for this opportunity at Reconciling Liberia. It is an opportunity that must be latched upon. We have the chance to show the World how capable we are and then they will come to assist. Sorry again for the pain we caused. Let us talk more and perhaps Jamaica Beach could become the New Sac Tower where the nation brings her problems and common ground is sought and found. Thanks.

Thanks for joining me!

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton