The Bulk Challenge Experience. I. Ezax Smith

The Bulk Challenge Experience - I. Ezax Smith


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Cape Mount! No wonder why people preferred to be within the area of the African regional peace keepers than in a community with any warring faction.

      So, for my family and Cedrick’s, the plan was set: Freeport was the destination and leaving the country, our ultimate goal. By now, on this April day of 1996, it was dusk, and walking the streets after daylight was risky for anyone who was not an armed personnel. We were not willing to take this risk; not with our families.

      Darkness was quietly settling upon us while we were yet a long way from the port. Our hearts sank as we realized that we would still be outside of the Freeport gate after sundown. Of course, it would be suicidal to walk the streets after dark. There were no street lights. But, as always, we remembered that the Lord provided our needs; and what we needed was a place to spend the night. We had now reached the area where Nora’s sister lived. Although Nora had neither seen nor heard from her in a while, we decided to give it a try and go to the house. One of two things was certain to happen: 1) if Nora’s sister was home, that would be wonderful; (2) if Nora’s sister was absent, some family member or someone would be there who knew Nora as the sister, and would let us in. This is one of the best things that came out of the war; relatives and friends were always welcoming of others, willing to host them for a night or two or for however long they could. Most people, particularly, civilians, wanted to be helpful because none could ever tell when things would turn around and reciprocal help could be sought—a clear evidence of the old saying, “one good turn deserves another.” Every act of kindness was a seed sown to be reaped in time to come. In some instances, though, precaution was taken not to let the wrong people into the home and fall into a serious problem. By wrong people, it could be members of an opposing faction fleeing and unsuspectingly coming to seek rescue. If such people were taken in and identified by another faction in the area, the receiving family could be entirely wiped out. It was therefore important that people knew whom they allowed into their homes.

      We walked across the street on a single walking pathway to Nora’s sister’s place. The house was located about a quarter of a mile from the main street, in an area called Topo Village, which is a low land area usually flooded during the raining season. There were large puddles of water everywhere. Some neighbors peeped at us through their windows and doors to see who the new comers into their community were. This curiosity at the time was rooted in two factors. First: the fear that the new comers could be fighters of other factions, infiltrating on reconnaissance into the area and posing as civilians, only to bring in their forces to later carry out atrocities. These kinds of suspects were called “co-nnapers”—a local corruption of “connivers”—people conniving with rival factions. Second: the new comers could be people pursued by another armed group, thereby posing danger to the lives of other people living in the area. In a situation like that, it would be difficult to identify the ones being pursued from the people already living in the community; and anyone could become a culprit and be victimized. Such misadventures had happened before, and it was common in many communities. Strangers moved into an area; they were welcomed by residents, only to realize they were fighters awaiting signals to turn on the very people who had welcomed them. At other times, a fighting group would pursue a group of people and end up hurting other people within the communities to which the fleeing people had come. Such acts were perpetuated easily because it is difficult to differentiate one Liberian from another. We all basically look alike; there are no distinguishing marks that make one a ‘fighter,’ and the next even a ‘pastor.’ Any action against a group of people at any time invariably affected the good as well as the bad; in most instances, the innocent people suffered the most. Thus, the casualty of the civil war against civilians was so very high.

      Whatever it was, the inquisitiveness of neighbors as we entered the community was understandable. We spoke politely as we passed by, and being friendly apparently eased their apprehension. In some spots, in the wet community, we had to walk on pieces of broken blocks to avoid stepping in the dirty water. We finally arrived at the house. Nora’s sister, Theresa, was clearing some things from her porch and preparing to go inside. Interestingly, Theresa and I had been classmates in high school, but I did not know she was related to Nora. In fact, I knew both of them at two different times and never during these later years of knowing Nora, did I get to encounter Theresa. Nonetheless, we were both delighted to see each other. It was about 7:05pm and it had been 9 hours since we began the journey. The children were all exhausted, needing shower and bed. They were sweaty and sticky from the long walk in the burning sun. Theresa was more than welcoming to us. To our advantage, some earlier guests in her home had left for the Freeport a couple of days earlier, and so there were rooms to host our little group. We were 11 in all: 5 from the Reeves and 6 from my family. We were settled in two rooms for the night. Our wives jumped straight into preparing something to eat. At last, it was worth the journey; we had a place to lay our heads and rest. We were thankful to God for protecting us up to the moment, and to our host for providing a place. After showering and having something to eat, we prayed and went to bed.

“The Freeport of Monrovia was a safe haven for many people. Thousands had fled into the port area for safety and refuge. They were scattered all over the port.”

      THE FREEPORT

      The Freeport of Monrovia is the main commercial port facility in Liberia. It was constructed on Bushrod Island near Monrovia in 1948.

      As early as 1850, ships began exporting palm oil from what might be called an irregular harbor, since regular harbors had not been constructed at Monrovia. Also, during World War II, the American military forces sought to export raw rubber from Liberia for wartime use. For that reason, the Americans improved the port facilities in Monrovia and built what was then a modern harbor breakwaters.In 1948, this new 750 acres (3.0 km2) bay opened. The national government took over the port from an American company in 1971 and created the National Port Authority to operate the facility. Today, it is referred to as “The Gateway to Liberia’s Economy.”⁷

      The port facility consists of four piers and one main wharf with four berths; tanker facilities and a fishery pier. However, at the time of our trip in April 1996, due to the civil war which paralyzed government infrastructures, the port was operating at less than half capacity, and was under the control of the West African Peace Keeping Force, ECOMOG, who used it as one of their major bases—primarily for access to the seaway for bringing in their military hardware, personnel, food and other logistics. Operation of the port by ECOMOG was essential to its peace-keeping mission because entry into the country by air was almost nonexistent. Also, there was no other usable seaport.

      The next morning, the entrance to the Freeport was packed with many persons seeking to enter. A long line extended up to a quarter of a mile from the front of the gate to the side of the main street. It was manned by ECOMOG soldiers who were searching individuals before they entered the port area. This process was necessary to ensure that no armed men slipped into the port to cause havoc. We joined the line and waited our turn. Hours passed before we reached the checking area. Our luggage, food and bodies were searched and cleared. We entered the port. Thousands of people had fled into the port area for safety and refuge. They were scattered all over the port. Almost every empty container was an apartment for a family or group of people.

      On the pier was a small fishing boat called Bulk Challenge. Rumors had it that the charterer of the boat and the captain were planning to evacuate people to Ghana and/or Nigeria. It was a Nigerian vessel. In the early days of the war, in 1990, a Nigerian vessel – Zolotesa – evacuated thousands of Liberians to Nigeria and Ghana. So, we made inquiries and learned that the Bulk Challenge vessel was sailing to Nigeria but would first make a passenger drop stop in Ghana.

      By


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