Give Me Integrity, Or Give Me Poverty: The Greatest Need in Post-War Liberia

Need we bemoan how deep, how wide, and how high the culture of corruption rules and reigns across the Liberian motherland? We could do that, but why settle for the easy, thoroughly beaten path? After all, no amount of cursing the darkness can ever turn on a flicker of light. So rather than curse the darkness, let's choose to switch on the light.

Speaking of turning on the light, my friend, Pastor Luther Tarpeh of Liberia, conducted a conference on Saturday, March 31, 2012, at the Tubman High School auditorium in Sinkor, Monrovia, the capital city of Liberia. This was the third year of Brother Luther's "Successful Living Conference". Notable speakers at the event, which drew attendees even from distant cities and counties, included Dr. Joseph Saye Guanu, Liberia's historian emeritus, who once served as his nation's ambassador to the United States. My assignment was to speak on how Americans think in contrast to how Liberians think.

One feature of the event really drew me in. It was my favorite part. Brother Luther issued "The Honest Liberian Award" to one male and one female. Both candidates had been recommended by others for their honesty in handling money, which they could have easily embezzled or stolen.


The hopes and dreams of The New Liberia are wrapped up in the likes of these two recipients. I was so moved, I promised Pastor Tarpeh that Mission Liberia would like to donate the plaques for the honest Liberians to be named at the 2013 Successful Living Conference.


In contrast to those two honorable Liberians, let me share this first-hand experience of a diaspora Liberian who has been doing business in the United States for years now. On Tuesday, April 17, 2012, a friend of mine, on his birthday, rode with me to Louisville, Kentucky, on a special mission: to take back a Chevrolet Astro minivan along with a generator, keyboard, guitar, boxes of clothing, toys and books. Our friends from a sister church later added two dentist chairs to the cargo. The shipper promised in early December 2011 to have the things shipped to Liberia by mid-January 2012, ahead of our mission trip in March. The plan was for us to use the van for transportation during the mission trip, to do outreach with the clothing, and to use the chairs for a dental clinic by the dentist on our team. The shipper kept moving the shipment date...January, February, March...then lying to the leader of our Mission Liberia team at Church For All.

In the previous two weeks the shipper swore up and down, telling our team leader the things were now on their way to Liberia. He wanted another $2,000 of the balance we owed him; we had already paid him $1,000. When Victor asked for proof, the businessman expressed shock that Victor would not believe his word. "I'm just trying to help you guys, because you're a church..." he claimed. Armed with a digital camera, Victor showed up at the shipper's home in his absence, and snapped photos of our van still parked there, along with many other vehicles, waiting to be shipped. Victor attached the photographs to an email to Mission Liberia team members.

"Welcome back, Pastor," the businessman said, as he exchanged handshakes with me, a broad smile on his face. "How was your mission trip to Liberia?"

Disgusted, I forced a smile. Returned his greeting. "We're here to pick up the van...", I told him, with Jason standing beside me.

"Oh," Molubah began, "Matthew didn't tell you?" (Matthew Karmo is Molubah Kamara's partner in the shipping business.) "It's on the ship. It's already gone. Matthew didn't tell you?"

"It's not what Matthew told me or didn't tell me!" I interrupted him. "It's what I saw."

Molubah did not know that Jason and I drove to his residence and saw the unshipped van parked in his backyard, before we went to his African food and cosmetic store at 4314 Taylor Boulevard in Louisville, Kentucky.

Once he realized we knew the truth about the van and other cargo, the scammer suddenly removed his lying garment, and for the rest of the time he was meek, mild and docile, even apologizing to Jason and me, a couple of times. Molubah then led us to his house, and we packed most of the things into the minivan, and some in my car.

Back at the food store, Jason informed Molubah to return the $1,000 our church had paid him; that way we wouldn't have to use our lawyer or the police. Not an empty threat: at church we do have a lawyer who had previously written a letter to Molubah, and on our way to Louisville, Jason did call the police who promised to be there in 30 minutes if we needed them.

Molubah wasted no time asking his nephew to write us a post-dated check. When he placed the check in my hand, I saw May 7, 2012 as the date to cash it. Will this check actually clear the bank after that date? If the check bounces, we've got that lawyer, and don't forget the police, which can easily land this guy behind bars where we may minister to him in Jesus' name! Church For All has a prison ministry.

Making the 2-hour drive back, Jason and I kept expressing mutual shock at just how calmly the whole thing had gone, how humble, even sheepish Molubah behaved. We just than God to whom we had prayed before reaching Louisville, and meeting "the businessman".

Originally I had partly imagined Mission Liberia as a relief effort targeting Liberians, but Mother Liberia's hunger and thirst for honest Liberians has persuaded me to propose integrity, grounded in a biblical worldview, as the first step in having a real, lasting impact on post-war Liberians. Any serious charitable work in Liberia has to include biblical truth that must be intentionally presented to renew the minds and transforms the lives of Liberians, who will then lift their nation from widespread poverty and rampant corruption.

Without that, missionary, charitable and entrepreneurial efforts designed to help Liberians are doomed to keep desperate Liberians helplessly dependent and corrupt for years to come, regardless of how spiritually open and socially welcoming the Liberian people are. We should partner with emerging, visionary leaders like Luther Tarpeh, until a growing number of Liberians can earn "The Honest Liberian Award".

Rich Liberia, Poor Liberians: The Frustrating Irony of Africa's Oldest Republic

The West African nation of Liberia is rich in many ways, yet Liberians remain largely impoverished, still stuck in the hell hole of the fourteen-year civil war that ended about nine years ago.

Fertile soil: "Portuguese explorers established contacts with Liberia as early as 1461 and named the area Grain Coast because of the abundance of grains of Malegueta Pepper." The nickname "Grain Coast" barely fits Liberia these days, though it should. Thanks to its tropical climate, Liberia is home to 40% West Africa's rainforest. The land receives an average of 170 inches of rainfall each year. Plants like rubber, sugar cane, mangoes, coconuts, palms, cocoa, coffee, bananas, plantains, avocados, yams, coco-yams, eggplants, pineapples, sweet potatoes, cassava, rice, peanuts, beans, among others, grow well on fertile Liberian terrain.

Rich in natural resources: Despite careless logging, timber still abounds in Liberia's rainforest. Some of the best quality iron ore, diamond and gold deposits are found in Liberia. Oil was recently discovered there, and Chevron has opened a regional office in Monrovia, getting ready to drill for petroleum off Liberia's Atlantic coast. Despite all this wealth, Liberia imports its staple food (rice); gold is very expensive in the jewelry stores of Monrovia; and gasoline is near $5 per gallon.

Rich in History: Settled in the early 1820s by former African slaves from the United States, Liberia became the first independent republic (July 26, 1847) on the African continent. Liberia's historical link to the United States, coupled with the of the American dollar as currency, should have our homeland prospering. But Liberia remains to struggle as America's stepchild that only smells but can't taste America's prosperity.

Crucial World War II partner: Without Liberian airstrips used by Allied war planes to refuel before confronting Axis forces in North Africa, the Allied forces would have probably not defeated Hitler's Germany on the North African battlefront during World War II.

Leader in African unity: Before the heads of 32 African governments signed the charter that formed the Organization of African Unity (OAU) on May 25, 1963, the initial discussions were held in Sanniquelle, Liberia. Along with President Kwame Nkrumah of Ghana, Liberian president William Tubman, who hosted the first meeting, played a key role in birthing the OAU.

Secret contributor to the motor vehicle industry: How important are tires on cars, trucks, motorcycles, bicycles, ATVs, etc? Like they say, everything is ridding on the tires. Well, for decades, tires on vehicles around the world were made from rubber plants grown and harvested on Liberian soil by the Firestone and BF Goodridge rubber plantations. Yet in nearly 100 years, not one vehicle tire has been manufactured on Liberian soil.

Numerous rivers: Farmington, St. Paul, St. John, Timbo, Cestos - any of these rivers can host a dam with a hydroelectric plant that can easily supply, not just all of Liberia, but a neighboring country or two with 24-hour electricity. Yet most Liberians sleep in darkness. Even the majority of residents in Monrovia, the capital city, at best exist on rationed electricity, unless they can afford to spend hundreds of dollars every month operating gasoline-powered generators.

Beautiful beaches: Every visitor to coastal Liberian cities and towns like Robertsport, Monrovia, Buchanan, Cestos City, Greenville, Sasstown, Grand Cess, Harper, Cape Palmas, among others, have wowed at the breathtaking beauty of the typical Liberian beach. Yet very little of this coastal paradise has been tapped for the tourists' dream it could be. It's a tourist heaven in waiting.

During a recent mission trip (March 2012) to Liberia, several of the eight of us short-term missionaries agreed on this: Though this small West African nation is a land of desperation, owing to the devastating barbaric war that ended 2003, yet for those who have the means and the international vision, Liberia offers some of the most profitable investment opportunities anywhere on planet earth right now.

• See map of Liberia here

Sources: Conservapedia, SouthTravels.com, Wikipedia

Mission Trip 2012 Blog 17

Wednesday, April 4, 2012. Boarding on Delta Flight 269 starts at 7:30 AM at Gate 8. We lift off from New York at 8:40 AM, 35 minutes later than the 8:05 AM time shown on our boarding passes. I learn from Delta Airlines that departure time and takeoff time are not the same in aviation speak. The aircraft touches down in Atlanta, Georgia at 10:25 AM Eastern, a one-hour 45-minute flight, 10 minutes ahead of schedule. Count that one in Delta's favor.

Upon asking and getting directions from an airport staff, not the Delta employee, whose directions go right over my head, I hop on a fast-speed concourse train to the D-Gates section of Atlanta's massive Hartfield-Jackson International Airport. A good stretch of brisk walk soon delivers me to Gate D27, with Delta Flight 5251 fixed on the screen behind the desk. Still got plenty of time on hand, so I order lunch, using my second meal voucher from Delta Airlines. Each of the vouchers is limited to $6. My order totals $7:58. I pay the $1:58 difference. Earlier in New York I had paid $2.50 after applying the breakfast voucher. I think that's very cheap of Delta Airlines. They should refund the extra money I have spent on phone calls, luggage cart, and now food, expenses I would not have without these delays.

Semi-slowly make my way back to Gate D27, where boarding is to begin at 11:51 AM, according to the boarding pass. But a different flight shows on the screen. I wait until about five minutes to boarding time. Still my flight has not posted on screen. I walk over to another desk and found out that my boarding gate has been changed to D46, much farther down the terminal. There I find out the latest Delta headache: the airplane is in maintenance! Departure time will be delayed by 30 minutes.

Thankfully, time flies, and boarding starts at 12:25 PM. Lift off from Atlanta at 12:52 Eastern Time for the 55-minute flight to Evansville, Indiana, where we touch down at 1:47 PM Eastern, which is 12:47 PM Central Time, the local time in Evansville, and Owensboro, my hometown. Stepping off the plane I engage in a chat with Rev. Theophilus Allen, a pastor friend who was on this flight. Theo and I haven't seen each other for over 20 years; so we hurry to catch up on one another's families. Inside the Evansville Regional Airport terminal, Pastor Allen introduces me to a beautiful, tall lady, his youngest daughter, who was just a year old when I saw her years ago in Liberia.

Ray Blair, my ride, walks over, as I stand with my luggage next to baggage claim. Miss Harriet is not here; too bad I did not show up yesterday when she took the day off just to meet me at the airport. But that's OK, Delta, things happen, and delay flights are a staple for travelers, right?

Ray and I exchange greetings, hugs. “You haven't changed one bit!” I say. “I haven't grown one inch”, he replies. The one-hour ride in Ray's pickup truck from the airport to Owensboro is shortened by our friendly conversations that only crawl to an end as Ray pulls up into my driveway. It's 2:10 PM Central. Ray stops the engine, and I cruise into prayer, thanking the Lord for traveling grace, for protecting, providing for us all. (Earlier I had asked the Lord to forgive me for whining so much about the delays.)

Only T (my son Tojyea) is home, with Mattie (the dog, who keeps climbing on me, hugging my leg, sniffing, making high-pitch noises, speaking doggish). Miss Harriet is at work, and Favor (our seven-year-old is at the Boys & Girls Club). It's just great to be home ... in one piece.

Harriet later calls after 3:30 PM, when she got off work. She passes at the Boys & Girls Club to pick up Favor, and upon their arrival home, the informal welcome party is in full swing. Welcome balloons deck the dinner table. The celebration will continue when my family gets back from Wednesday evening service after 8 PM. I stay home to steal some sleep, owing to the 5-hour difference in time between Liberia and Owensboro, and the loss of sleep on the crazy ride back home. Taking it all in, I realize this is the first time I have been away from my family for an entire month, since Harriet and Daneto (18 months-old then) arrived in America seventeen years ago.

Will I actually buy a Delta Airlines ticket again? For trips within the US, maybe. Not for international travel, even if I must pass through Europe, as in my previous trips to Africa. Prior to our mission trip, a person or two had said, “Delta is one of the worst airlines out there.” I doubted it then, suspecting such a charge to be an exaggeration. I'm a believer now. But then I have that $100 appeasement voucher towards my next trip with Delta, where on-time departure and/or arrival is low on the ladder of priority. But what's the big deal if you make it home safely, whether you've lost one day of your life or not. I know I should remain in gratitude mode. The Lord surely delivered me from “the snare of the fowler” (Psalm 91:3), that bird-strike that grounded our airplane. ~End Blog 17~

Mission Trip 2012 Blog 16

Monday, April 2, 2012, begins with family members coming over in the morning hours to Luther Tarpeh's house, where I have stayed for one month. They include Edison Garsuah (younger brother), Israel Garsuah (nephew), Patience Wallah (niece), Wada Wallah (nephew), Salome Garsuah Karnley (niece), Peter Xwor-yonwon (uncle), and Jaamah Karnley (brother-in-law). Salome hands me her demo CD to be given to Bro. Joe Walker, who promised to promote Salome in the United States.

For family time we kick off lively conversations, eat breakfast (plantains with dry bonnie fish), and take a group walk to a cookshop at Rehab Junction, where two of us eat fufu and pepper soup, and the rest have rice. We return to the house for a videotaped family meeting on how to keep our expanding family tree strong and unified from now on. To close off, Salome leads us in singing, before we pray together.

It's after 2 PM already. Family and friends accompany me to Roberts International Airport in Harbel, about 45-minute drive from Monrovia. Riding with me in the Nissan Path Finder are Brother Luther and his wife Christine (my hosts), Jaaman Karnley (minister and brother-in-law), and Pastor Daniel Tarpeh (whose congregation decided to join Church For All). In the Toyota Sienna minivan are Elder Martin Curlon, Edison, Wada, Peter, Patience, and Salome.

From Robertsfield, Delta Flight 27, on a 767 jet plane takes off around 6 PM, and lands in Accra, Ghana, 1 hour 44 minutes later, about 7:40 PM GMT. Passengers destined for Ghana disembark the plane. The rest of us remain on board for about three hours, waiting to continue on to New York. That's when the captain announces that, shortly after liftoff in Liberia, the aircraft experienced a birds' strike, which damaged the plane. Murmurings of disappointment slip through the aircraft, as we prepare to step off the plane.

Inside the Kotoka International Airport terminal, a Ghanaian Delta employee hands us immigration forms to be filled out for a one-day Ghanaian visa to be issued to each passenger. The worker then takes our passports to keep overnight. Suspicious passengers query him: “How can you assure us we will get our passports back?”

Meanwhile the Delta flight crew, led by the captain, zooms by us unlucky passengers, and leave for their comfort in some luxury hotel in the heart of Accra. How is that any different from a captain jumping ship, like the captain of that wrecked cruise ship did somewhere in Europe, not that long ago?

The nearly 100 of us walk outside the terminal to stand on the street curb, where we wait and wait and wait. The 14-seat buses finally pull up one at a time to haul us off to various hotels around Accra city. It is after 1 AM when my batch arrives at the Travelers Express Hotel. Rooms range from $120 to $180 per night, but Delta Airlines will pay. The Delta rep informs us we will be picked up around 11:30 AM on Tuesday, April 3.

For most of us it's a short, restless night. In the morning, some passengers report being unable to sleep. Passengers are frustrated, anxious from scrambling, but, for the most part, failing to place calls to family members, employers, etc, in the USA to let them know the change from flight to plight.

On Tuesday, April 3, buses begin hauling us from the hotel around 10 AM. We form a long line to check in. It is past 12 noon before we begin boarding Delta Flight 27 on a different plane brought from the United States last night. Sitting on the airstrip, still being worked on by mechanics, is the bird-stricken aircraft that brought us from Liberia. Little birds can do that to a jet plane? How the force of nature always out-strong man's best!

We take off at 1:20 PM GMT, and the captain shortly informs us that flight time is estimated at 10 hours 55 minutes. The flight crew serves us a large meal around 2 PM, followed by sandwich and chocolate bar at 6 PM GMT. The in-flight entertainment system fails, though the system keeps rebooting, every time a malfunction causes a female singer's voice to blanket the airplane. We hear numerous comments, which actually started last night, about how Delta Airlines only send the oldest airplanes to Africa, while flying new planes to Europe. Finally, the Delta SkyTeam apologizes that we will endure the long flight without music, movie, television, or even the digital navigation map that shows how the flight is progressing. Most passengers use sleep as drug to tamper the drag of the marathon ride.

Some 10 hours and 30 minutes later, we reconnect with the ground, familiar territory to humans, at 7:52 PM EST at JFK International Airport in New York, where a plane lands or takes off every 60 seconds or so. Since this flight was delayed, we will not continue on to connecting flights, and that meant we have to go to the baggage claim conveyor belt and wait to grab our check-in bags.

Gone through immigration & security, we are told to recheck in our luggage to our final destinations. By the time the multitude is reissued replacement boarding passes, taxi vouchers, and meal vouchers, it is after 11 PM. Delta Airlines pays for us to spend the night at Double Tree Hotel of the Hilton hotel chain. I think I fell asleep after 1 AM.

I wake up on Wednesday, April 4, at 4 AM with my phone's alarm blasting away. My iPhone's alarm must have malfunctioned, because I had set it for 5 AM, but the early alarm better suits the rushed morning schedule. Hotel shuttle buses drive us back to JFK Airport around 6 AM Eastern Time to go through security once again. ~End Blog 16~