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".