Monrovia – Sarah Weagba knows home is where the heart is. But sometimes that means leaving it behind to seek safety from ferocious coastal erosion that is causing destruction in a place she has lived since 1977 when she moved from Sinoe County to seek greener pasture in the then bustling and thriving Monrovia.
“The sea took everything. I was only able to save me and my six grandchildren”- Sarah Weagba, victim
The slum township of West Point is the nation’s largest and has been beset with the problem of coastal erosion in recent years.
It plays host to more than 75,000 residents. Hundreds of zinc houses and poorly constructed concretes ones built on a bay of sand have been taken by the menacing waves of the Atlantic Ocean which has not been kind to Weagba and others.
A grandmother of six, she remembers that rainy morning in the slum township when a torrential downpour hammered the corrugated roof of the zinc shack she called home and resided with her grandchildren.
Along with the rain came the raging waves of the Atlantic Ocean which, in one swipe, took away the home of Weagba.
“I never parked anything:” she recollected as she joins her hands together behind her back while nodding her head as her brow furrowed.
“The sea took everything. I was only able to save me and my six grandchildren.”
New Home in a new place meets criticisms
When a bus from the National Transit Authority (NTA) parked at the entrance of the road leading to the slum township of West Point Weagba and others hopped on it.
Never looking back, they were taken to a new home in sleepy township of VOA in Brewerville to a temporary shelter, 37.5 kilometers away from the city center.
VOA was a place of intense battle during the nation’s civil carnage which left more than 250,000 dead.
Names like “Baby Ma Junction” is all too familiar as many pregnant women reportedly saw their stomachs opened by ragtag fighters who gambled on the gender of the child tied on the umbilical cord in the mother’s womb.
It later became a camp for internally displaced persons during the intermittent crisis from Bomi County, Grand Cape Mount County and neighboring Sierra-Leone.
As the war in Liberia raged, so did the one in Sierra-Leone. Those living in border towns fled to Liberia for fear of being amputated. Following the cessation of the crisis, many have been integrated into the Liberian society.
Ordered built by President Ellen Johnson Sirleaf when she visited the slum township to empathize with the affected erosion victims, the temporary shelter features two rooms in each structure built on a solid foundation well above the water circle which could save it from the torrential rains which are going to be heavier as it approaches intermittently.
On the other side of the estate like community is a public latrine with toilet areas and bathing place to accommodate six persons at a time.
Built by the National Housing Authority and relocation supervised by the Monrovia City Corporation, more than 50 families have been moved by the MCC following the building by the NHA.
An MCC official in the office of Mayor Clara Doe Mvogo says as more homes are built, more families will be moved into their temporary new homes.
The MCC official said some businesses such as LIPFOCO, DuraPlast and Indian Consul General, Upjit Jetty, have been helpful in helping victims with things such as buckets, mattresses etc. and other essentials that would be needed in the new homes.
Amid these developments, the initiative has been met with a slew of criticisms on social media and on talk radios as many say it is not enough to get victims from the angst of the ocean.
In a Facebook post titled – “Poverty versus Misery”, Martin Kollie, a writer and student of the University of Liberia states:
“We thought this government would have brought smiles to the faces of West Pointers by providing improved housing facilities for them.
Unfortunately, this is not the case as slum dwellers in West Point are about to relocate to another big slum.”
Taking a further aim at the government, Kollie laments the lack of leadership in it. “Are they really leaders or looters?
Leadership is about service and not self-enrichment. Leadership is about transforming lives through quality services and concrete actions. How long will our people live in poverty?”
Devore Moore is President of the Disaster Victims Association which was launched as far back in 2008 when the first incident occurred.
And a reverend, too. Moore has sharply disagreed with many who have pointed jibes at the government, saying it has been only President Sirleaf who has come to their aid.
“We were happy when she came here,” he says as he peered down his glasses which sit atop his nose like the character Dumbledore from J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter.
“She committed everything, including food and all that.”
“They want play politics with this thing here and it is not about politics, it is about helping those who are right now affected by the erosion. The government has done its best in this regard.”
When the tidal waves of the vexing Atlantic Ocean hit weeks ago, President Ellen Johnson Sirleaf
So angry was Moore about the politicization of the relocation being done that he snapped ferociously at a colleague who mentioned the name of a famous senator when a visitor queried on the efforts of some members of the Montserrado County Legislative caucus.
Though a victim of the coastal erosion, Demore Moore has not yet moved into the new homes being provided by the government.
He sees himself somewhat as a ship captain whose responsibility is to ensure everyone reaches safety in an emergency before he disembarks. As he explains, officials of DVA and would-be movers huddle around him.
When you are sleeping on market stalls, between houses, on church benches and have to battle the harsh cold of the night, the two-bedroom temporary zinc shelter is God-sent.
More ready to leave, others not so willing
At the front of the DVA tiny office, tricycles are blaring their horns for pedestrians to get off the tiny stretch of road, even though there’s no walkway.
A shirtless kid runs across the road without fear of being hit by the new means of transportation.
Many see Demore Moore and officials of the Disaster Victims Association huddle together and speaking in hushed tones but some have no inkling on the work the men and women in green collar shirts with faded white painting do. Those that do are waiting to be moved to safety in Brewerville.
A light-skinned Beatrice Freeman with speckles on her face sits pensively amongst other women who are craving relocation from the rising tidal waves of the Atlantic Ocean.
With arms folded, she stares into the horizon of a day which had begun with an early downpour and later punctuated by a blazing sunshine in the afternoon. She’s decked in a colorful tight fitting dress.
Like many others sitting around her with a gloomy look, safety seems to be the only thing on her mind for now as she and her eight children plus grand children could not salvage anything that wet morning. Being living in West Point for 13 years, all she wants right now is to move beyond the devastation.
While Beatrice Freeman appears willing to go, some are not so keen on doing so. Thomas Toe is a fisherman. Like everyone else, he was asleep when the waves came at 4am and swipe his residence away.
He wouldn’t go as he claimed there is no beach or fishing community in the new area. A father of three, he has sent his children off to safety but remained to eke a living to support them. He can’t stomach being far from the sea.
New Life in a new place — expectations
When Lucy Barbioh, Sarah Weagbah were driven to their new homes, they weren’t sure of the reception they would receive in the new community.
Coming from a raucous township can often means an unmentioned stereotype which hangs over like the proverbial Sword of Damocles following wherever one goes.
A thought which followed Weagbah when they arrived in VOA. “I thought the people here were going to reject us because we from West point and people can say all kinds of things about us,” she adds.
“They welcomed us with pots and cook spoons until we were able to get back on our feet.”
Soko Wiles is the chairman of the community which plays host to the temporary shelter. Fashionably dress in a maroon African lace suit and slippers with a bunch of keys rattling from his fingers like a school bell, signaling the end of school in the cool evening hours.
When he heard that residents of the west would be forming a part of the community, he quickly gathered forces together to welcome them and donated assorted items which were highly needed.
“17 bags of rice, sardines, etc, were donated by a friend who wants to be representative for this area.”
While welcoming new members of the community, a set of ground rules governing the community has been given the new members while efforts are underway for equal participation in the community leadership.
“No fighting, no cussing in the public, we have a grievance and ethics committee to resolve dispute so it doesn’t get to the court,” he reveals.
“We will make sure we share the leadership with them equally.”
And while assimilating in a new community can sometimes be difficult, other challenges are still abound, include lack of space in the only high school and more clinics as the rainy season approaches.
For now, a roof over the head from the roaring tidal wave of the Atlantic Ocean is better safe than sorry.
Gboko Stewart, [email protected]