BEYOND INSANITY

Tears Over My Motherland

Chapter 5

DUM, DUM, DUM, Zonn's face gave a sign of disappointment. The dum, dum ,dum were sounds of weapons being disacharged all around Monrovia. The fear of the rebels' presence in the city had deepened and the national army seemed confused. To allay their fears and to introduce some element of confidence, the soldiers had been shooting all over the place.

"But where are the rebels?" someone asked another, down Gurley Street.

"The BBC just reported that the rebels have encircled the city," the other said. "That has brought fears in the soldiers and as you can see they are all fired up."

"So by shooting all around here," the other replied, "then it means they are scaring away the rebels?"
"It may seem so."
"But have you seen the rebels?"
"Never," the other said, "but are all the Gio and Mano people not rebels?"
"No," his friend told him, "the BBC said most of the soldiers of the NPFL are Gios and Manos but that does not suggest that every rebel is a Mano or Gio."
"I agree."
" And who are the rebels say they are coming for?"
"The Krahn people."
"Are you sure," the other wondered, worry on his face,"reports from the BBC say the rebels are killing everybody they see over there ooh."
"Then we're in trouble."

The two companions might have had it right. The National Pariotic Front soldiers were coming for their enemies, and if that declaration was something to go by, then it meant that all the ethnic Krahns were marked to die. From the BBC reports, the rebels or the NPFL soldiers were masters in killing their enemies.

And the enemies, as the two buddies concluded with foreboding, included any Liberian who crossed their path. If a Liberian appeared good looking and healthy in body, then it meant he was one of those "eating" the government's money. There were instances in which ethnic Manos and Gios married to Krahns had been executed for defending their spouses.

Another ethnic group which was silently being destroyed, along with the Krahn were the Sarpos, who had close cultural similarities with the Krahns, and in fact many of the Sarpos apparently understood the other's language.

Now, it was a situation in which soccer followers would describe as 2-2 draw: the Gios and Manos on one side and the Krahns and the unfortunate Sapos on the other side. In between were the Mandingoes, who had, by accident of coincidence, been hauled into the fray.

Just before all hell broke loose, there had been the talk as to whether the Mandingoes were ethnic Liberians. From the King Sao Bosso Street in downtown Monrovia to historical monuments in Lofa County, there was no Liberian alive that would disagree that the Mandingoes were not ethnic Liberians.

And the president, Sam Doe, had reinforced this convinction that they were pure Liberians, like any other tribe. To show their appreciation for the president's triumphant declaration, many of the Mandingos trooped to join the national army to fight the government's enemies.

That singular action marked them out and the rebels added the Mandingos as enemy number three. So from here, the massacre from the national army was directed at the Gios and Manos, and from the rebels' side, their inhuman treatment was against the Krahns, Sarpos and Mandingos.

In between the slaughters, both the national army and the rebels carried out their violence against other tribes.

And the Kpellehs, whose central city had been converted to the rebels headquarters (Gbanga), were forced to work for the rebels. The Krus, considered forceful and ever ready to fight back, sadly, remained aloof in the war. Even when several of their leaders in New Kru Town, outside Monrovia, (Fred Blay, Roosevelt Savice, and Larry Borteh) were arrested, accused and summarily executed, the most war-like people of Liberia, did not move to organize themselves for the war.

The Bassas, like their Kru cousins found themselves under siege by the rebels, and Buchanan, one of the most exciting places in the nation remained under the control of the rebels; they too did not see it necessary to fight back. Of late, there were rumors of a Bassa Defense Froce, but it existed in name only.

The largest county, Lofa, which share border relations with Guinea decided otherwise after repeated assaults by the NPFL and then the newly formed ULIMO, and went ahead to organize the Lofa Defense Force.

Also subjugated were the Vais, the Deis and several other ethnic groups. As the dogs of war pursued each other and rendered Liberia ungorvenable, no Liberian was left unaffected. Even the so-called Americo Liberians and the Congos had their settlements besieged and ransacked.
It was a case of tears over the entire nation.

And as the cliche went, the enemies of war left no stone unturned in their mad rush to out do each other in the vicious killings that overshadowed Liberia.

The Daily Observer's Stanton Peabody, in one of his last editorials before the paper's offices were set ablaze, mourned: Bleed Poor Nation Bleed.
It was a fitting lamentation for a nation set ablaze by its own.
Yes, it was tears over my motherland.

BEYOND INSANITY

Death's Ugly Hands

Chapter 4

JAMES ZONN had known all along that neither his mother nor his father was coming back home. It had been three days since the mother was physically carried away by some members of the national army. Until then James Zonn had always loved the army and had dreamed of becoming a member in the future. But events, since the late Thomas Q tried and failed to remove the goverment of his friend, Sam Doe, had indicated to him that the army was, to some extent, the most dangerous occupation to sacrifice his life for.

His feelings towards the army had changed dramatically from the on.
Why, he asked himself, would soldiers who were supposed to defend and protect the Liberian people taking sides in a war that many and countless Liberians had no idea why it was being fought. True, he had heard the self-styled defense spokesman of the rebels, Thomas Woewiyue, declaring over the BBC that the only good Doe was a dead Doe.

But why?

From his resident in Monrovia, there had been the talk of Gios and Manos coming from the bush and having joined the army of Charles Taylor. He had heard the name of that man before, and had never seen him. Was he a Gio or Mano? The news, as far he could gather indicated that he was not a Gio or Mano. He also learned that he was once a best friend of the president of Liberia.

Well, then, what happened? From the events of November 12, 1985, he was aware that there had been bad blood between Doe and Thomas Q. So what?

Though he was not old enough to understand the current situation, he remembered that when the announcement was made that Sam Doe had been removed, many of his Gio and Mano ethnic groups and other Liberiands had trooped to the streets of Monrovia and had even danced to the traditional victory song.

And lately, the newspapers, in particularly, the Daily Observer and the Footprints Today, had all been calling on the president to resign.

It came to James Zonn's attention that the president had failed to live up to the expectation of the Liberian people to maintain peace and order. That his failure and the current presence of "rebels" coming from the bush were an indication that his days were numbered.

So why the president had declared he would fight till the last soldier, Gios and Manos living in the environs of Monrovia were facing the daily grind of danger to their persons.

So, he somehow but reluctantly agreed that the terror against his ethnic people was simply because Thomas Q had attempted to remove Sam Doe and that the new army in the bush composed mainly of the Gios and Manos, who had suffered enormously since Thomas Q unsuccessful attempt to remove Sam Doe. He felt there was no justification in the current attacks on his people, the truth was that it was the gospel truth.

A DAY after his self-examination, there were reports of bodies lying about in the street, near their resident. James Zonn, by all accounts, was a man who could not stand trouble when he saw one. It was no wonder then that when he heard the news about bodies lying in the streets, he decided to investigate.

And whether he wanted to believe it or not, one of the bodies resembled that of his mother. As he stood over the remains of what seemed to be that of his mother, tears flooded his eyes, and he began to breath in short bursts.

At one point he wanted to vomit. His stomach rumbled on for sometime and like he was passing gas, his legs danced under him. The bodies, as he inspected them, were in the state of decaying, and flies hovered over them.

And the stench...

"So it's true," he said, tears streaming down his face.

He would now return home and inform his sibblings of the tragedy that had befallen them. It was the ugly hands of death, claiming his mother, while his father had been missing, since he was taken away by some soldiers. Now he was living in fear, and considered that if his parents had been destined to pay the price of his tribe's sin, then it would not be too long before he followed them.

With tears pouring down his face, Zonn gathered his legs, and sauntered away from the bodies. It was clear that Liberia had become a land of the dead. What was plentiful was misery. Another was disappointment. And yet another was sorrow.

"This day," he said, "I may die."

Death would relief him from the horrors of war, and destruction. He wondered if his father was still alive somewhere. He would wait and if he failed to return, he would decide what the next course of action would be.

James Zonn must either live or die.

BEYOND INSANITY

The Day Dawns

Chapter 3

THE YOUNGMAN man looked on with disdain. It had been too long since the war should have ended but it would not. Standing several feet away from the soldier, his heart beat increased and it was clear that he was afraid of what might happen next.

The war had been panting for the lives of its enemies and he was sure that baring a miracle, would he survive. The other night, soldiers, several soldiers from the Armed Forces of Liberia had visited his family. Just eighteen, and little experience in the difficulties that sorrounded the political crisis in the country, the city of Monrovia where he had lived with his mother and four sibblings had been relatively safe. No, it was safe until the political troubles began and it eventually progressed to the direct confrontation against the Gios and Manos and other political figures in the country.

As the man had said to him, when they came, "All you Gio and Mano people are marked for destruction." The soldier had meant business, for he had demonstrated that statement by whipping his mother with the butt of his gun.

"You are killing me," his mother had wailed, pleading for help that James Zonn could not give. In fact when the soldiers saw him starring at them, they thought he was taking mental pictures of their action, and he was warned to look away.

"If you want to live," the other soldier had warned him, "you must never look at us like that, rebel."

From here, he turned his face to the other side of the house but that did not satisfy the soldiers. And he was not looking when he felt a heavy metal slapping at the back of his head.

"Ma they are killing me," was all he was able to say, and then he had blacked out.
He did not how long it took, but by the next morning, he awoke to find his mother was missing, and his two brothers and two sisters sprawled on their mats. He thought they were dead but he was glad that when he began to shake them, they all awoke, with tears in their eyes.

Two of his sisters, one was sixteen and fifteen, he saw, had their underwears torn in several places. And there was blood also.

In tears, he grabbed the hands of the girls and pulled them along to the bathroom.
"They took mamie away," the seventeen year-old girl said, as the rest of the children began to shriek.

Their father?

He had been missing. He had gone in search for food for the family in Saye Town when news came that he had been arrested. From the pieces of information he could put together, he learned his father had been arrested at a checkpoint by some soldiers. And he also learned that his father was a "rebel."

He was now becoming use to the description of being a "rebel" and from then on since any Gio and Mano was considered a "rebel" he realized that it was no longer safe for him to accept the description of being a "Gio or a Mano." But can he change it? He knew being a Gio or a Mano simply meant the tribe he originated from which had its distinctive cultural practices and songs and other things. But he also knew that it was a designation about the language or dialect he communicated with at home with the family. But was a language a crime that others must pay with their lives?
Since his mother was taken away and the father had also been long arrested, he saw how unfair life had become. He thought about one of his uncles in the national army. Was he still alive? Had he been arrested and perhaps killed, since he was also a Gio?
There were sounds of shooting outside and he could hear people running here and there.

"The soldiers are coming," he told his sibblings and they went inside their room. Hunger pangs were bitting them deeper, and he did not know what to make of the situation.

Yes, the day had dawned on him and the future looked bleaker than he had anticipated. He wished he understood the reasons for the suffering of the Gios and Manos, and likewise the entire Liberian people.
He wished he knew.

He also knew that by 1700GMT, the BBC would broadcast the lastest news from the war front, and at the time he would be able to hear what the National Patriotic Front of Liberia's leader, Charles Taylor, say about the war. It was now 1500GMT and there was 2 more hours to go.

BEYOND INSANITY

When Hope Lost Its Meaning
Chapter 2
WAR IS the greatest enemy of mankind, someone is reported to have said in frustration. It was apparent that whoever said it might have seen the horror of war and he could no longer remain unconcerned for its destructive nature. But again, one may ask: Is mankind's history devoid of war? From the beginning of time, the Bible reports the continuous battles the Israelites engaged in and the destruction that those wars routed on mankind.

So it can be said that the wars of our time, while different in the means and methods of their prosecution, are not really different in their end result. The results are death and the destruction of material properties that have been sought after after many painful years.

But whoever thought that a nation born out of the frustrations of the world's greatest inhuman trade, the slave trade, could end up destroying what was cherished to build in the days when man's desire for emancipation was at its highest demand, might have been considered insane. But the reality after over one hundred years of statehood made it an obvious fact that what can be described as deliberate failure played a major role in the actions of the leaders and eventually sent Liberia to face its tragic history.

I am not sure but I can say with certainty that the fragile foundation of Liberia and the shortsightedness that accompanied its development, sadly, set the stage for the eventual conflagration and division of the nation-state. And when the dust finally settled, the nation was bleeding and panting for breadth.

Poor thing!

So it came to pass that when the war was announced on the air-waves of the BBC, many people thought with the manner the leader of the insurgents, (call them rebels if you wish) was confidently declaring the movement's objectives, that it would have been a few days' clearance.

The unpopularity of the Samuel Doe regime had sunk deeper into the abbys of the people's discontent. He had become a nuisance and the man whose triumphant entry into the Liberian political landscape had engendered so much goodwill was becoming a non-entity among the people. "Monkey come down," was refrain, as thousands demonstrated throughout the major streets of Monrovia, to express their disastisfaction and by that way telling him that it was time to leave the chair. And everybody agreed, though with some exception, that Samuel Doe had outlived his usefulness. In doing this damage to his ego, the insurgents' leader, Charles Taylor declared with an element of confidence that the "only good Doe was a dead one."

The successes of the insurgents to kick the butt of the national soldiers created some optimism and hope among many of the people. There was a sizable number of the people who had otherwise remained cautious of the simmering declarations of the man in the bush. But as it is with the affairs of men, when the end comes for the one who has ruled with an iron hand, many are those who consider him a historical person. The war had become the archilles hill of the Doe regime, and as the insurgents continued to announce their successes, the spirit of the soldiers began to deflate.

In anger, the soldiers turned on the civilian population, and it is with shame that I write this and I hope, it is with shame, you may read it: Gios and Manos residing in the capital and other political opponents became sacrificial lambs for the vanguished national army. The hope that had been seen at the end of the tunnel was losing steam. For, it was not for long before the insurgents began to kill off all Liberians. They were not discriminating among those who had wished for the old regime to go. It was, by all accounts, the self-destruction of a nation that could not remember its heroes.

And those who understood the meaning of hope could not agree that the insurgents had anything better for the battered nation.

BEYOND SANITY

In The Beginning
Chapter 1
IT WAS the beginning of a new adventure and I thought it could not come to this. For many years the war created conditions that I thought could end as quickily as it had begun. It just started as a rumor and then it proceeded to develop and became huge.

The last we checked, what we thought would just come and sweep over us, had come to stay. And since the day in December 1989, the dogs of war turned our lives upside down. And from there war, the real one became the daily dose of thousands of us.

The war created several monsters: they were called 'freedom fighters' and with their weapons of power, life itself lost its value. Young men and women were trained and given weapons that because of them they could command authority and respect from their elders, and seniors. Families were torn asunder as the young men and women in their new roles as defenders of our freedom dictated how we should live.

The soldiers, yes, those who had been trained for many years to defend the nation and protect the people could not do it. For majority, they were insterested in staying alive. But they were wrong. Their enemies did not forgive those who, for their personal reasons, decided to throw down their weapons. They were, many of them, marched on to their doom.

As the war progressed and the butchers from all the various factions learned the effective means of killing other Liberians, the game took a different turn. From the national army to the rebels, civilians were their primary targets. And the price for the war was devastating in its nature!

And even the house of God was no longer safe.
The local communities were where thousands had sought refuge were places waiting to be invaded and in many instances displaced Liberians were slaughtered in their bed.
From the Lutheran Church to the United Nations' Compound on to the Duport Road community--all in Monrovia--the dogs of war went in their furor, mowing their fellow human beings down.

It was a tragedy of a serious proportion, and many of the survivors often asked, but to no one in particular: What kind of war is this?