Joni's Journals

Chapter VI

We traveled to yet another IDP camp. This trip was in search of human rights violations. The camp is for permanently displaced people and was quite different from others we had visited. It was further out from Monrovia, about 45 minutes, but it was really isolated. The road was about a mile long but with huge potholes so it took about fifteen minutes just to get down the road.

This camp had been raided during WWIII. Anything of value had been taken and its inhabitants were forced to flee to Monrovia. Well, they are back and no one wants to deliver aid because the camp has no security. No security? What does that mean?

It meant no security; that the camp could be raided again. The camp is so isolated and the road so bad that the camp is very easy to raid. None of the relief organizations want to deliver food without security. Until the UN arrives there are not enough security personnel to assign to this camp to prevent hijacking or an ambush on the road or an attack on the camp. The consequence is that these people are starving. They are eating roots and drinking sewer water. Chicken pox is running through the camp. It was awful. People kept coming up to us saying they were hungry but there was nothing we could do. Fighting was still taking place in Liberia but it was concentrated about 130 miles away from Monrovia.

There are still bands of rebels roaming around. Not all of them have been disarmed. Edwin, our host, got really nervous once he heard there was no security at the camp. In fact, he was always nervous. There are a couple of bridges and he always wanted to be on the Monrovia side of the bridge before six. So much so that he started herded us back around 4 every day. Traffic, traffic he would say. We don't want to get caught in traffic. The bridges close at 6:00 so wherever you end up is where you spend the night. Edwin had no intention of spending the night in Rebel country. Whenever a rebel vehicle would drive by, Edwin would point it but it was with that don't let them see you looking situation. And you certainly don't want to take photos of them without permission but they are so intimidating that you don't want to ask permission.

The really nice cars belong to government officials who were in the President's cabinet. There are a few private vehicles but mostly everyone travels by foot or by taxi. Their taxi system is interesting. There are designated stops, similar to a bus shelter. If a taxi has room for you the driver will honk as he approaches the shelter. The rider, using a complicated set of hand signals, will let the driver know his destination. If the taxi is going that way it will stop and pick you up. The taxis were painted yellow and were so raggedy and small. I think they were Ford Fiestas or something similar. People would just pile in, sometimes five sitting in the back seat at the same time.

As we traveled through town on our way to Perry Street, the last hope of finding Sam Cole by the way, we marveled at how these people were living. The buildings were burned out and in most cases, little more that concrete shells. Some windows are covered with silver or white tarp held in place with black or blue tape. Underwear and blankets could be seen from the broken windows of government buildings such as the Ministry of Justice and Ministry of Internal Affairs. Folks just stake out a place leaving someone behind to watch their things or in some cases using padlocks. In open camps it doesn't matter if your stuff is stolen. They don't leave behind anything of value and if you steal it, well, you needed it more. However, if something specific is stolen and found on someone else, that person must tell how it was obtained and it must be returned.

Edwin doesn't hold out much hope that we will find the Coles. He says it's like looking for a needle in a haystack. When we turn onto Perry Street I can understand why he said that. Almost every house on Perry Street is burned out! Where do we start?

We started with the first house. Do you know Samuel or Gilbert Cole? Yes, someone said, and pointed to the back of a burned out house. As we round the corner, we discovered a small courtyard with a small house. A woman identified herself as June, Samuel's wife. We asked if he was around, she said yes and wanted to know who was asking. We weren't giving up any information so we asked if Samuel Cole had relatives in the states. She said yes and went to get him.

Our excitement was mounting but I also thought this was our last hope. If it wasn't him then we were at a dead end. How many Sam Cole's would be living on the same block? John has been documenting this whole process so as we wait a crowd begins to gather. Everyone wants to be on TV. This tall skinny guy comes out of the house and walks over to us. We ask if he is Samuel Cole. He says yes. We ask if he has a brother Gilbert? He says yes. We ask if he has relatives in the states. He says yes and starts naming off his sisters. One is Judith! (I am getting goose bumps writing this) At this point, we knew we had the right guy. But it is getting dark and there are too many people around. We explained why we were there, that we had a letter from his sister and we made arrangements to come back the next afternoon. We were thrilled! Edwin and George (our driver) couldn't quite believe that we pulled this off. I breathed a sigh of relief.