01/25/2005

The phrase "Take Liberia out of Monrovia" is carefully painted on a gas station's wall in the town of Saniquelle in Liberia. The remaining portion of the gas station's wall shades more than thirty men sitting and playing checkers. From a distance, it appears to be an informal town hall. Similar places in most post-conflict societies around the world serve as gathering places for unemployed men. The men gather for many reasons, either to share their views or comfort each other.  Liberia is no different, having had cyclical civil wars since 1989.

It was late afternoon when the Refugees International team arrived in Saniquelle, Nimba county near the border of Guinea and Côte d'Ivoire. We were en route to Butuo, a Liberian city bordering Cote d'Ivoire, where twelve thousand Ivorian refugees had sought refuge after crossing the border in November 2004.  We had been driving over the rutted clay roads and precarious bridges for more than three hours and we had to stop to refuel our vehicle.

As we refueled the car, we saw a group of men gathered together. They seemed as if they had been under this roof all morning. These men ignored our presence. Fair enough, the world has ignored them too. Upon seeing this phrase, cryptically written on the wall, we were curious and eager to learn more about this slogan.  

Here in Saniquelle, life appears to be back on track. Society is divided between the "haves, the half-haves, and the have-nots." The "Haves" are comprised of returning refugees who have been in Liberia's neighboring countries. With the small grants received from UN agencies, they have been able to bring with them some goods such as used clothes that they sell in the local markets.

The second group is composed of small groups of returning displaced people --- mainly from Monrovia --- and ex-combatants who are struggling to reintegrate into the society that is still in search of itself. The "have-nots" are composed of the local communities that did not flee the area, but rather stayed and endured the hardships of war. The irony is that during the post-conflict recovery programs, they are the forgotten group. International assistance and local governments have chosen to focus on refugees, former combatants, and the internally displaced.

This group of unemployed men we talked to came from this last category. They were angry, bitter, and critical of the international community, especially visitors representing international aid agencies. They didn't want their pictures taken.  They reminded us of the ethical debate around taking people's pictures against their will, which continues to be a "sin" of action committed by many humanitarian workers.

"Why do you think 'Liberia should be taken out of Monrovia?'" we asked them. "When you, the international agencies, come to Liberia, you land in Monrovia and you open your offices there and spend all your time in Monrovia. You forget that Monrovia is not Liberia but merely one of Liberia's cities. You keep telling the world that you are in Liberia. You talk about developing Liberia from the capital. You send your reports to your donors talking about Liberia when in reality you only know Monrovia. Look around you... Do you see any signs of the international community here? We want development; we don't want war or aid. We are tired of wars. We don't want any politics here. We want business. This is why Monrovia should be out of Liberia."

While their analysis was not sophisticated, the passion in the way that they responded reflects the experience of Liberian civil society, which has been neglected both by international aid agencies who bicker over who has the mandate to help which group of Liberians and by the Liberian elites who struggle to retain their power in the transitional government by postponing elections.  

Although lip service is paid to the idea of  "community-based development" in reconstruction plans for Liberia, the differences between the return packages for former combatants, returning refugees, internally displaced people and what is currently available for Liberians in the community tells the story. While the people who stayed in the community struggle to rebuild the crumbling roads and bridges that connect them to the capital of Liberia, international dignitaries helicopter in to Butuo to visit the Ivoirian refugees, making promises and clucking their tongues about the bad state of the roads which will delay their plans to reach this latest group of people.