ENERGY

It was a rainy afternoon in June. The day was dark and gloomy and a river ran in front of the hospital as I stepped out into the kinetic air.  I jumped in the keke parked outside of the hospital and asked the driver if he could kindly head my way. He mentioned that he was waiting for a patient. 

I said, "That's fine", agreeing to wait having invited myself to a keke that was technically already booked, just happy to be out of the rain albeit in an open air 3-wheeled vehicle that still wasn't impervious to Liberia's wind and rain dance that day.  About 20 minutes of waiting later, I realized the patient was a new mother and her infant son accompanied by her husband. 

As we proceeded on the gravel road away from the hospital, I couldn't help but notice the uncanny circumstance. Only a few short minutes prior, I was impatient, wet, and tired and just eager to get home. From speed bump to speed bump I thought of the mother & child squeezed in beside me ensconsced between her husband & I.  Colleagues had scoffed and snickered at my affinity for taking kekes and motorbikes. I had recently decided that kekes were the safest alternative although not as fast or as exciting as a motorbike. But here I was embarking on the beginning of  what was easily a 30 minute keke ride through an uneasy road especially in rain season. My impatience melted away as I stared at the fresh new life wrapped in a blanket and towels beside me. I thought jokingly to myself, no mandatory car seat here huh?  

I started a conversation in broken French with the mother and her husband and the mother and I began a choreographed piece of sheltering the baby's face from the occasional windspun rain adjusting the makeshift keke curtains (rice sack bags) to protect the child from the elements.  We drove off of the common road route to their front yard and I promised to keep in touch.  Today, I called her on my way home from work inquired about the baby and she met me on the road with baby in tow, tied with a towel across her back. 

I don't think he even opened his eyes the first day I met him but today, today he did. There was a shared energy and frequency between us. It was as if he knew that I met him on Day 2 of his life.  I was reminded that this week 2 years ago I first embarked on this journey to my homeland arriving with eyes closed to what lay ahead for me in this land of liberty.  My eyes are open now to the liberty afforded young, inexperienced novices in their field noting the platform they have here to make "big" splashes, better if they are foreign, Liberians worship otherness, others don't worship us though. Nobodies in the West are easily 2nd in command in government offices here. My eyes are open now to the hundreds of young Liberians here just like me, vying for a spot in the race some extremely hardworking whether within the private or public sector or at an NGO. My eyes are open to the fake hustles and ubiquitous entrepreneurs some actually really hardworking & admirable and others hardly working with generational wealth affording them the cushion to experiment just a little bit further at life. My eyes are open to the morass of moral complexities that hold a tiny place like Liberia together amidst outsiders who are here to simply sell our story, our resources, our dignity... My eyes are open too to the joy and energy and hope that is a fluid and palpable thing here---the emotions that overwhelmed me when I arrived 2 years ago at Robertsfield Airport still alive evermore today. 2 years, 5 counties (Rivercess, Nimba, Lofa, Cape Mount, and Bong), and 3 jobs later, the manifestation of that energy, love, gratitude, joy, passion, excitement, enthusiasm, hope and satisfaction I held in my hands even if for a brief moment.