Liberia

Visited: November 2022

Duration of visit: 7 days

Capital city: Monrovia

Population: 5.2 million (2022)

Estimated reading time: 17 minutes

• Motorbike ride from Ivory Coast border to Ganta was a typical African experience thorough dense rainforest: flat tire, engine problems and complicated checkpoints.
• A day with locals in Ganta: watching a football match, buying food ingredients on the local markets and meeting my bike driver’s family.
• The West Point – tough slum on 0.53 km² peninsula is home to thousands of people that dedicate predominantly to fishing.
• Exploring the center of Monrovia, where signs of prosperity from the past are covered by neglect, poverty and ignorance of modern Liberian society.
• Corruption that marks all levels of society and disables the progress to move closer to American dreams.

Liberia has a unique history that started in 1847, when it was proclaimed as the first independent country in Africa. It had all the potential to be a success story, but 200 years later, it is one of the most corrupted, poor and least pleasant places to live in the world.

I kept wondering many times, what went wrong and I couldn’t find clear answers. A rare combination of American emigrants, civil war, local chiefs’ interests, plague of corruption and Ebola epidemic. The initial success story of Liberia in Africa is very similar to the path of Haiti, the first independent country in American continent.

An interesting and almost incredible data says that before the outbreak of the Ebola epidemic, in 2014, the country had only 50 doctors for its population of 4.3 million, while the health system was seriously weakened by a civil war, that ended in 2003.

Liberia is an uncommon country, established as a project to relocate American liberated slaves who believed that black people would face better chances for freedom and prosperity in Africa than in the United States.

Between 1822 and the outbreak of the American Civil War in 1861, more than 15,000 freed and free-born black people, who faced social and legal oppression, decided to relocate to the territory of today’s Liberia.

Liberia became the first African republic to proclaim its independence in 1847 and is Africa’s first and oldest modern republic.

It was a prosperous country with American influence until two civil wars (first one: 1989 to 1997, second one: 1999 to 2003), which completely destroyed the state and left deep damage to economy, infrastructure and people, from which Liberia has not recovered even 20 years later.

In 2018, a former professional football striker, George Weah, one of the greatest African players of all time, was sworn in as president, but no major changes have been seen so far. Corruption, lack of opportunities, basic infrastructure falling apart and poverty, seem to be a never-ending story in Liberia.

My first day was astonishing and could have happened also in neighboring countries. It started in city of Man, in western Ivory Coast, and ended in northern Liberian town of Ganta, approximately 200 kilometers and twelve hours later. The events followed each other according to the following schedule.

• 8:45am: The bus turns away from the main road. I am transferred to the second bus; pleasant ride, music videos play on TV.
• 9:15am: We arrive to a village where I exchange buses again. Wait for 20 minutes and continue to the town of Danane.
• 9:30am: We approach the last bus stop. No cars are available to the border, so I negotiate a ride on a bike. Coffee for energy, filling up a tank, ready to go.
• 10:00am: Starting a ride to the border. Dirt road is in good condition, the rainy season has just ended. The dust is annoying, especially, when we meet a truck or a car, which is fortunately, not very often. At checkpoints my passport is verified, the driver has to pay bribes to get through.
• 11:30am: The border point is confusing. There is a market day on both sides. The formalities are taking time, since all uniformed people want to check my passport. I am registered in the security office and ready to go. Welcome to Liberia.

• 12:30pm: I change money, eat a corn and continue my trip. I made a deal with a bike driver Roger to take me to the first considerable settlement, named Ganza, approximately three hours away. The road is in much worse condition than in Ivory Coast, but I am happy. It is dry. Roadblocks are often, my passport is popular, bribes are sporadic and paid for no reason by the driver.
• 1:30pm: The driver stops. We have a flat tire. He wants to continue driving, but I get off the bike and let him drive ahead to the first vulcanizer. Another bike picks me up and offers me a lift to the vulcanizer.
• 2:30pm: We are back on track. Still two hours to go. The first paved parts of the road appear, but they are rare.
• 3:30pm: Engine chain fells off and we have to stop. Roger says, he can fix it. I am a little bit skeptical seeing limited tools, but 15 minutes later we continue driving.

• 3:50pm: The chain is down again. The procedure is repeated. I am observing in disbelief and thinking about other options. Clouds are gathering over the sky, preparing for a storm; it is only the question of time, when it will start raining.
• 4:05pm: The chain is down only after 500 meters of driving. I start looking for other bikes that have been passing by, pay Roger the full price, wish him good luck and switch the vehicle. I know Roger will find his way out, but I also need to move on.
• 4:30pm: The engine starts to whine at a higher speed, but the new driver Carcious is confident that even with technical problems there is no reason to worry. We keep changing travel speed according to the behavior of the engine.
• 6:30pm: We finally arrive to the legendary Jackie’s hotel in Ganta, Liberia. 6:30pm: I am tired, dirty as if I have just finished a shift in a dusty mine. I cannot stop laughing after making a selfie. I am happy to get a real shower and enjoy pasta for dinner.
• 8:30pm: Roger sends me a message, that he arrived safely to his home.

I was extremely happy, when, after the 12 hours driving expedition, Carcious brought me in one piece to Jackie’s Hotel – the best-known hotel on the western outskirts of the town.

“We have rooms for 50.00US$, 75.00US$ and 125.00US$ in our hotel,” a serious receptionist explained me about options to sleep.

After seeing the cheapest room, I explained to her, that this room was way over my budget, the hotel seems empty and I can only pay 40.00US$ per night.

There was apparently no way to negotiate, but I was not willing to pay that much money for a basic, dark room, even though A/C, wi-fi and TV were included. I was tired, dirty from dust and hungry, but not willing to give up. When I was ready to leave, she finally offered me to call the boss and ask if my offer was acceptable.

“Sure, go ahead, call him. He will understand my position.”

I was convinced that any person with common sense would agree with my proposal. The boss accepted my offer and I was allowed to enter the room.

As soon as I saw my face in a mirror, I couldn’t stop laughing. I was burned from strong sunshine, dirty and completely covered with brown road dust. What a release to take a shower and change clothes. This can be one of the most rewarding moments of a day in Africa.

Ganta is not a particularly interesting town, but I found nice, welcoming people, who took care of me and introduced me to local life.

If my French was only in a basic level and I was struggling to communicate in Ivory Coast, my expectations for Libera, where the official language was supposed to be English, were to communicate fluently with locals.

How wrong I was!

On many occasions, I could pick up only a word or two, not enough to understand what the communication was. Broken English seemed to be more difficult to understand than French in francophone countries. When I asked my interlocutor to repeat slowly or try to apply real English, the answer was regularly the same – not understandable. It was obvious that better educated people speak better English, while poorer and less-educated are impossible to communicate with.

Carcious drove me to his home in the neighborhood located not far from my hotel. It was an opportunity to find out how people live, work and spend their time. We sat in front of a basic house covered with old zinc plates, talked to his family members and children. He lives with his wife, a two-year-old girl, older sister and his husband.

No running water and no electricity are connected to the house. A water well is located in the patio and is utilized collectively with neighboring residents.

Electricity appears to be available only to some more upscale houses, that are also solid built and have real windows. Phones are charged through small solar panels. Public toilets are not far, cooking is done with charcoal in front of each house.

Carciou’s brother was a semi-professional football player in a local club and he invited me to attend the afternoon match. I gave my dirty clothes to Carciou’s wife and she washed them immediately, showing her enviable skills to make them clean, as if they were new again.

I asked my driver to take me to the local market, where I bought rice, fish, oil and vegetables that were later cooked for lunch. Typical fish soup with rice was spicy and cold, when served to me in the late afternoon. But I was a special guest and Carcious didn’t want to start eating before I arrived.

The football match was played on a training field which is a combination of hard soil surface, randomly covered with parches of grass, holes and sand areas. The uneven terrain without clearly marked lines of court borders would be appropriate even for the beginners in developed countries. Plastic bags were all over the field, but didn`t have impact on the game. I wondered, why some players used gloves, but it was soon clear that falling on hard soil ground caused immediate palm bleeding if unprotected.

In the afternoon sun, the players played hard, ran quick and took the positions clearly. On an uneven terrain it was almost impossible to control the ball, any dribbling was more a consequence of luck than skills. Defensive players were in big advantage; the final result was a 0:0 draw.

If the ball missed the goal, it ended in a bush behind the goalkeeper. He was unhappy to search for the ball in the forest, while other players and few spectators were making fun of him.

The road from Ganta to Monrovia is perfect; paved, wide, straight. What a change from the first part, connecting Ganta with the border. I was squeezing in the front row of a shared taxi, with a tinny lady, but still very uncomfortable.

However, no complain. We needed less than 4 hours to cover the distance of 250 kilometers. I dare to say that we didn’t meet more than 50 cars, which were driving the opposite directions. Checkpoints continued and the driver was negotiating to avoid paying bribe at all of them.

At the parking lot, in the northern part of Monrovia, I was picked up by Josko – a brother of my friend Ernest, who is Monrovian, but living in Slovenia for over a decade, and working for the same company as I used to.

Josko offered me to stay in their family house and drove me around Monrovia during the next 3 days. An old mansion was secured by high walls and two dogs, that didn’t allow any uninvited visitors to approach. Wi-fi connection with a private link to a satellite was stable. However, there were problems with water supply. Thanks to a well in the courtyard we were self-sufficient, but the luxury of public water supply and sewerage was taken away by inefficient government many years ago.

People are willing to pay for water, electricity and internet, but the corrupted and inefficient government cannot supply them.

The location of my temporary home in Monrovia was a little bit out of the center, but only a few hundred meters from the beach. I used the opportunity for swimming next morning. The beach is rather abandoned, but the warm water and soft sand are pleasant enough to relax and enjoy the waves. There are not many capital cities in the world with access to beautiful sandy beaches, where you could swim every day of the year, before going to work. I don’t think anybody uses this opportunity in Monrovia.

Arrival on Sunday offered me a perfect opportunity to avoid the regularly heavy traffic that paralyzes logistic in Monrovia, especially in rush hours. The city stretches for tens of kilometers (or better miles, which are used here to measure distance) along the coast of the Guinea Gulf. The sea is calm and only smaller waves hit the sandy beach, which seemed to be of no interest to the locals.

Most parts of the beach are abandoned, adorned with old houses, bars and unidentified buildings that used to have purpose in the past. They were probably built before the civil war, when Monrovia was supposed to be a progressive place, where tourists would come and enjoy their charm.

Hotel Ducor is a perfect example of how the country has been destroyed and affected by many upheavals.

One of the most luxurious hotels in West Africa, established in 1960 with 106 rooms on eight stories, was attracting celebrities, politicians and VIP people to Monrovia in the 1960s and 1970s.

It was the first international-class hotel in Liberia, and was for many years one of the few five-star hotels in all of Africa, hosting important meetings between African leaders. The hotel closed in 1989, afterwards fell into disrepair due to the violence of the war and to postwar looting, and finally occupied by squatters.

Today, only the skeleton of walls and roof are visible. With a perfect location on the top of the hill, it was offering spectacular views to all directions, while today it is guarded to avoid courageous visitors to walk inside and be endangered with falling parts.

There are not many important buildings to appreciate in Monrovia, but three of them really called my attention.

• Trinity Cathedral Episcopal Church of Liberia, built in a rectangular form with solid outstanding columns that are connected with colorfully windows, is a clear example of beauty that was found around Monrovia decades ago.
• Grand Masonic Temple – white columned building reminds on American Capitol in a smaller version without a dome. It acts as a headquarter of The Grand Lodge of the Republic of Liberia – a fraternal organization based on the principles of Prince Hall Freemasonry.
• The National Museum of Liberia is located in a remarkable white building on Broad Street, but unfortunately, it was without electricity when I was about to visit it. I was trying to negotiate a discount to visit at least one part of the exhibition, but the administrator was not interested in my offer.

Power cuts are very common all-around Monrovia, not only in poorer communities. It seems that the water system is outdated and the majority of houses get water from other sources: wells or deliveries with water cisterns.

It is hard to believe that the main infrastructure was in better conditions decades ago.

Beside irregular water supply and sewage issues, pollution is a significant challenge in the capital. Piles of household and industrial rubbish tend to build up. Unfortunately beaches more often serve as a garbage dump than swimming area. Officially, the World Bank pays sanitation companies to collect the garbage, but collections are irregular.

“Have you seen a documentary about West point of Monrovia?” Josko asked me.

“I have no idea about it, but I am open to pay it a visit, if you find it interesting,” I answered quickly.

A fishermen’s slum located on a peninsula of half square kilometers, with great view to abandoned luxury Hotel Ducor, is the most densely populated slum in Monrovia, where the best fish is caught and the most terrible living conditions are a norm.

I would have never visited a place like this by myself. Even Josko, who spend more time in the USA than in Liberia, looked for help of his girlfriend’s mother, who grew up in the neighborhood. After a retired goalkeeper John, who also played for a national team with George Weah, joined us, I knew this was going to be a unique experience.

John drove from downtown through a congested market, pushing horn and squeezing other vehicles and street sellers out of the way, to pass through narrow roads, where mostly ke-keh and bikes cruise around. We parked a car and walked to the beach.

Plastic bags and all kind of garbage were around, people were saluting John and wondering, what the hell was I doing there. Kids pooping and urinating on the beach, while others playing a few meters away, were a clear sign that there is no intimacy, private toilets or water in the houses.

I was surprised with the amount of fishing boats, nicely decorated, named after football clubs and decorated with a base for motor engine on the side. Smaller traditional boats, like big canoes, carved out of single tree, are typical in the region. Bigger boats were noted on the other side of the peninsula, where Ghana community lives. Ghana fishermen navigate for a week to reach Monrovia, where apparently the sea is richer with fish.

Metal roofs turn improvised houses into an oven during the day, while heavy rain accumulates water in narrow sandy streets. Some passages are so narrow that two people can not meet. Many people just hang around, others cook plantains, sell fruits or food.

I passed dedicated areas, where fish is smoked in big barrels. Different sized fishes are organized in various layers, separated with special sticks and covered with plantain leaves. Fire is made with wood or charcoal and smoke slowly penetrates to the fish. It seems to be an important activity, especially due to the fact that fresh fish cannot be preserved for a long time without coolers and freezing facilities, which are unavailable.

People were friendly, saluting me and shaking hands. The life is tough here, but there is no other way to move forward and seek better opportunities. At the end, I was invited for a cup of tea with a group of locals.

Many years ago, some of them played football with current president George Weah, who used to live here.

He started to play football in West Point, before ending in the best European clubs: AC Milan, Chelsea and Manchester City. He was named FIFA World player of the year and finally became the president of Liberia in 2018.

An inspiration story of George Weah shows the miracles are possible, but not for everyone. There is a hope for West Point and Liberia to get a better future. Nevertheless, mayor changes in education, politics and general perception of what is right and what is wrong, have to occur first.

Good relations among people, mutual respect, desire for progress and understanding of others is a good basis for Liberia to return to times of peace, development and progress, where it already was 30 years ago. Good luck!