Notes from West Africa
I traveled to Liberia and Sierra Leone with Kimmie Weeks during the summer of 2006 to assist him and carry out research for YAI. I am originally from Tanzania and was excited to visit west Africa. I was confident I would adjust to Sierra Leone pretty quickly, because hey, it was still Africa wasn’t it? And I’m half African.
I expected the usual bad roads, humidity, slow Internet, delicious food, and friendly people. My naivety became apparent the minute I landed in Freetown. On the little dotted line that asked the purpose of my visit I had written, “Vacation.” From the quizzical expression on the customs officer’s face, it was clear from the get-go that not a lot of people came to Freetown just for a vacation. Only one airline had recently begun direct flights from Europe to Lungi — Freetown’s hard to reach island airport — and those only came twice a week. My travel companions were mostly Sierra Leoneans visiting home from far off places. Some even worked for the UN and NGOs in Afghanistan and Iraq. Oh, the best way to get to the airport is by a Russian helicopter.
I began to feel a little bit out of my element retrieving my bags. I knew Kimmie was outside. But inside I was stuck in a bustling baggage claim area where people much larger than my 100 pound 4’11 frame tossed me from side to side trying to get their bags. I could barely even lift mine. Fortunately, I experienced the usual African hospitality that I was born into. Friends I had made on the plane rescued me, picked up my bags, and guided me through customs.
I was so relieved to see Kimmie’s face outside. He was there as promised with a huge smile. We said our hellos and prepared to board the rusted soviet-era helicopter that would take us from Lungi airport into Freetown. As soon as we got our tickets the rain began to pour down and the helicopter couldn’t fly. Here we were 9pm, Kimmie and I listening to the pelting rain smack the tin roof with no idea when or if we would get home. But it was ok because Kimmie was there, and I knew he would figure something out.
That epitomizes my entire trip with Kimmie. Facing a bevy of constantly changing challenges but never freaking out because I knew Kimmie would always have a solution. We finally made it to the other side of Freetown and drove to Calaba town where we would be staying while in Freetown.
Our task in Freetown was to conduct research on the feasibility of building a women’s center. We wanted to know what women needed, and what it would take to build a center that met all their needs. This required an overwhelming amount of work. Our days began at eight in the morning and ended past midnight. For two weeks we attended a series of meetings with different NGOS, local youth groups, and government officials. We spent time evaluating architectural plans, budgeting for building materials, and visiting communities that could benefit from YAI’s efforts. We wrote funding proposals, press releases, and pretty much ended up living in the local internet café.
Throughout the entire process we faced a myriad of challenges. If I had been there on my own, I am ashamed to say that I might have thrown up my hands in desperation and given up. Everyday was an uphill battle. Nothing I did felt like it really mattered. How would writing a press release really help the thousands of young single mothers struggling on the streets of Freetown? We were trying to build something out of absolutely nothing. One day it dawned on me that everyone in Freetown older than seven had experienced war. The many friends I had met, the women I interviewed, and the people I passed on the street everyday had a story about war. This realization only depressed me more. I couldn’t understand what my place was in this sea of suffering and pain.
But watching Kimmie work in this environment was a life altering experience. With Kimmie, every problem had a solution, or at least an alternative. On top of this Kimmie covered every detail. He didn’t care if we were in Freetown or New York City. Invitations to a YAI program we were hosting had to be printed just right, and the center would not be done until it was exactly right too. His incredible resourcefulness got us through every challenge we faced. I can’t count the number of times I was sure something wouldn’t work out when Kimmie would appear and at the last second presto, problem solved. He consistently pulled rabbits out of empty hats. It was almost magical.
I learned a very valuable lesson watching Kimmie — with a little patience and creativity there was no problem too large to solve. Kimmie embraces every uphill battle with ease. He collects the dozens of problems and one by one methodically and resourcefully solves them. After work I would often go right to sleep, emotionally exhausted by everything I had seen and heard. Kimmie would be up for the next few hours thinking what could he do for a girl who came in and asked for a scholarship, or how to obtain ink for the printer. But somehow in the end he would figure it out.
After I returned from Sierra Leone, many of my friends asked me “Did you have fun?” This is a difficult question to answer because Sierra Leone is not a place you go to have fun. No, it is not fun to see children playing in rivers of trash, or to meet 18 year old mothers living in displacement camps, or have your heart broken time and time again by stories of child soldiers, rape, and mutilation. It isn’t fun knowing that even the littlest bit will help, but once you give that, you feel hopeless because that little bit is hardly enough to help the thousands who need it. So I explain to them that it wasn’t fun like their term abroad in Spain or France, but at the same time it was absolutely incredible. An experience I gained more from than any other in my entire life.
Traveling with Kimmie enabled me to recognize the skills I must hone in order to successfully help people I care deeply about. Traveling with him reminded me of one of the very first times I met Kimmie, back when we were in high school together. We were both trying to raise money for our chapter of Amnesty International. While most of our group hung back, too shy to ask anyone for donations, Kimmie jumped right into a crowd, introduced himself, and pretty soon had the entire room clambering to give him a dollar or two. He wasn’t afraid to ask people for help, and as soon as they saw him people listened to and subsequently followed him. He had this same effect on people everywhere we went. It was as if they were able to see inside his heart, feel the good he was trying to do and then commit to help him in any way possible. So throughout my trip as I hung back and watched him work, I couldn’t help but get that feeling many of us have about someone they admire — I kept thinking, wow I want to be like him when I grow up.