Two different Liberia's in one week

A few days ago, Haresh and I went to Gbarnga for a day trip to accompany our staff for a routine maintenance visit to one of our client sites. Incidentally, it was the same day that Charles Taylor was handed a guilty verdict in the Hague and we happened to be in former "Taylor City." Taylor made Gbarnga his capital city of what he called Greater Liberia in the 1990s and apparently made millions of dollars controlling the export of Liberia's timber, diamonds, gold, and other riches. 

I have not been really tuned into international or local news these days and just vaguely realised that I was in Taylor's former capital city the very day he was found guilty for supporting and abetting the civil war in Sierra Leone. 

What was really annoying me more was how much of a village Gbarnga was with its shabby small structures, the merest semblance of a town (not even a city), chickens and ducks running around, dirty dusty dirt roads, garbage littered everywhere and not a single beautiful sight to soothe the eyes. It annoyed the hell out of me. I have seen quite a bit of Liberia courtesy of monitoring trips I used to make when I was employed with the UNDP and also since I joined the private sector. Some towns such as Zwedru and Harper are more interesting but I think Gbarnga is really a dump. 

Perhaps, it was the fact that we were traveling in an un-airconditioned taxi that kept getting stopped at so-called immigration check points and had been slowly baking in the scorching heat and dry dusty winds which made me so grouchy! Perhaps, it was my moral righteousness for being harassed by these officials who dare not stop UN/NGO or private 4x4's. Perhaps, it was my explosion of anger when one of the uniformed officials asked my staff - a young girl in her 20s - for money for a soft drink and she gave him 20 LD and, the subsequent speech which I do not know why I even bother giving whenever I do. "Cecelia, Cecelia, how could you do this, you know our company doesn't believe in corruption!" I implored to her sincerely. I do realise I was probably looking quite comical, huffing and puffing like a chicken over 25 Cents, but what I can do? I always feel like I have to lord over my opinions over everyone, especially poor corrupt officials of poor countries*, not because I either believe corruption can be wiped out or do not have enough intellectual sense to place it in a real context or have a fun approach to finding a more humorous and gentler way to deal with such a situation, but because I am bossy and take things and myself too seriously.  And I have to admit it, I luuurve it. 

By the time we were driving back to Monrovia, I had descended into the "What the heck am I doing in such a dump!" rant. I lamented over having spent almost 10 years of my life in a soul-less, culturally-bankrupt hell hole. I wish I had devoted as much energy in creating a life for myself in any other poor but culturally vibrant and hospitable atmosphere. I went on and on and even Haresh got into the spirit of things and started trashing Liberia. We had a glorious Liberia-dissing fest in our little taxi and got even further delayed due to the traffic madness in Hades (commonly known as Red Light). 

Hardly two days later, Haresh and I were driving out to Kakata in an air-conditioned car we had hired for the day to attend the marriage celebration of two our Liberian friends. The AC and the super-duper farm house where the party was being hosted changed everything. We enjoyed the smooth ride, the thandi thandi hawa of the AC, and got there in style, non-sweaty, non-bothered and in a great mood. I was bowled over by the grand jacaranda-lined entrance of the farm house, the soothing vast scenery of grass and neatly trimmed hedges, and the party scene laid out in the front lawn. Yes, I was in the lap of luxury and this completely changed the way I looked at Liberia.  

I spent a glorious afternoon soaking up the polite society of Liberia. We made our rounds and greeted everyone. The owners of the farmhouse were friends of the groom's family and, really very gracious and welcoming. We also got to meet the couples' parents who were equally wonderful. We made ourselves comfortable on one of the tables in the tents and, engaged with the other guests. 

Mind you, it was a scorcher of a day and I felt I was being baked along with the other guests. There was only a bit of respite from an occasional breeze but overall, it was quite hot but I had a pleasant time  drinking in the party scene while sipping chilled white wine.

There was a table of ladies in purple-lappa dresses with elaborate headdresses. They spent most of the afternoon gently swaying to the music either sitting in their chairs or standing up. When the bride finally arrived, they welcomed her with a song "African women can do it best...socially, politically." It was really endearing. 

There were children everyone. The little girls in their perfectly ironed frocks and head full of pony tails tied with matching ribbons, were the cutest. 

There was a big mama who was jiggling her stuff sitting in her chair. Haresh and I kept signaling towards her with our eyes because it was so amusing to see her exhibit so much excitement and love of rhythm. Later, we saw that she could not resist any more and was out by the speakers and dancing her heart away. Other women joined her and pretty soon, there was a little dance floor out there. It was quite impressive to see that despite her size, our friend was moving and shaking very gracefully. 

I realise I am either attracted to really old people for their stories and ingrained habits and mannerisms or to kids for their innocence. The attraction usually consists of people-studying, striking up conversations and if I am lucky, getting to hear some interesting experiences. That is with the old people. With the kids, I tease them and make faces at them. 

So, I found myself admiring the old people, especially the ladies whose personalities almost leapt off from their jewellery-encrusted fingers, elegant wide-rimmed hats, slightly snobby side profiles, and general fabulousness. The younger lot kept coming and bowing and scraping in front of them. Even I felt like getting up and fetching their drinks for them, so enthralled I was with their majesties. The air was heavy with their expensive musky perfumes and their endearing snootiness. Haresh tried to make a few jokes and strike up conversations with them and, it was quite funny to see him fail with ze ladies. Much later after we had left the elegant-snobby-ladies table, and had finished eating our delicious dessert, Haresh intentionally put his empty plate on that table and I scolded him for being so inconsiderate loudly so that the Madame could watch me do it. She shook her head in disgust and started mumbling something. I was mortified but in retrospect it was funny. 

Who knows, maybe she was the one who told our driver that only "civilised" people were allowed in the guest area. 

There was a very distinguished couple we were seated next to who told us they had ten children. Haresh got quite impressed and the gentleman was bursting at his seams in pride. His wife, though, rolled her eyes, after all, it was she who had to give birth ten times. Whenever I would smooth Haresh's shirt or tell him to behave, she would approve towards my direction. 

So, we passed a fun afternoon mingling with some really interesting people, congratulating the happy couple, and really relishing being in such a beautiful farm house. The house was painted in a warm terra cotta colour and we also got a peak of how beautiful it was inside when we had to use the bathrooms. 

A marriage celebration really is a happy occasion and this was no exception. I guess I was in a good frame of mind to be able to enjoy the atmosphere, appreciate the company of almost everyone there, and feel good about being in someone's home and participate in such an event. The hosts were sincerely gracious and welcoming. 

Even though I have been in Liberia for almost a decade, I feel that I only get a glimpse of the Liberian society now and then. I have always opened up my home to my Liberian colleagues (whether at UNDP or in the private sector) and friends but invitations are very infrequently reciprocated. I have noticed this applies to all classes and find it very strange. I feel that Liberians are very reserved people. The funny thing though is that this couple whose marriage celebration we attended, do not even know us that long! In short, I find it hard to understand Liberian people when it comes to hospitality and generosity, something which most cultures are proud of. It is a bit unpredictable. 

As a final note, though, I am really glad we had such a wonderful end to our week. I'll always remember the scorching hot afternoon on that beautiful farmhouse, sipping chilled white wine, surrounded by elegant old ladies decked out in all their glory. 

* That is not entirely true. I also feel I must lord over officials of rich countries. My brother and I were taking a flight out of Dubai to Shiraz, Iran back in 2008 and I was shocked to see that a 'white guy' had cut the line and was allowed to proceed at the immigration check. I made a huge scene and was taken on the side. While my brother cringed at my ridiculous and disrespectful behaviour, I continued to insult the official and started verbally attacking his short stature in every sense. The guy threatened to arrest me. I became further infuriated and would have punched the guy but my brother managed to cool me down and bring me to my senses at the scary prospect of being thrown into a UAE prison. Thank God, he is a lawyer and had the frame of mind to think things through. 

My psychotic red and soothing turquoise dream came true. Yay!

It has been about a month and a half since we shifted our office into a bigger and more fabulous space and we have started transforming the old space into a proper apartment. After living in a room for two years and making polite jokes about "I live where I work, no wait, I work where I live," I am really relieved, ecstatic and rather over excited to finally have an apartment to decorate and lord over.  

The apartment has a huge open living room,  a balcony, a kitchen, 2 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms. It really is a decent-sized flat. After all, it served as a full-functioning office since 2009 and I had only one room to myself in which I could take off my owner-and-manager-of-an-IT-company hat. 

Almost all the traces of it ever having hosted an IT office are gone and everyone who comes over is shocked to see it. Gone are the yellow walls and replaced with a pale blue/turquoise and deep red combination. Gone are the desks, the shelves, the cables, and the files and instead, we have a living and dining space where we can display our quirky belongings, host dinner parties and watch TV. 

I have been obsessed with creating a stylish and chic apartment ever since we got the apartment back, wanting to unleash two years worth of domestic creativity that was trapped in that one room which served as a sleeping, TV-watching, dressing, and reading room. 

Every night I would spend hours intensely browsing at pictures of apartments and homes for inspiration. One of my favourite sites thusfar is the fantastic http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/. I also really like House of Turquoise. 

I love how creative people can be when it comes to their homes and it is really not about buying expensive furniture and pieces for your home but about one's own personal style and its expression. These sites, especially Apartment Therapy, has some great pictures of living rooms, bedrooms and nooks. Cool apartments are those that do not follow any rules. These spaces reflect the owners' passions and interests. All kinds of textures, objects and colours are thrown in together to create a certain mood and project a certain fantasy. And let's not forget, you want a fabulous apartment to show off to everyone how creatively clever you are which is exactly what I am determine to do.. 

Infused with all kinds of midnight-internet-surfing and two-years-of-bubbling-creativity, I embarked on apartment therapy and apartment snobbery of my own, assisted by a few decorating sidekicks, which includes Haresh (or Radish, as Mama Susu likes to call him). 

Not only am I relishing (I type this with my eyes closed, lips slightly parted in apartment ecstasy) being able to live in an entire apartment of my own again but also enjoying being in what I think is an exceptionally cool and cozy space. 

How did I come up with this marvelous colour combo for the walls? Well, please don't laugh but I was watching the Indian flick "Robot" with Rajnikant and Aishwarya Rai and there's a dreamy track with the two prancing on a pristine white beach with turquoise waters. I first thought of painting the walls an ocean blue and later, decided on off setting such a pale and tranquil colour with some intense red drama to reflect the two sides of my crazy moody personality.

I started muttering "deep red, cool blue, cool blue, deep red" over and over to myself and started fantasising about my apartment until we went and got the paint from Chicri Brothers in Vai Town. These guys have all the colours you can think of so you can  effectively convert your apartment dreams into reality. They had a Burgandy Red and two shades of turquoise; it was quite expensive though, $ 45/gallon. We spent $ 500.00 on painting the living room and re-did our balcony in a terra cotta orange. Gulp! but well worth it.

There is an off-tangent but extremely nostalgic and amazing story to be told here regarding Chicri Brothers. This is apparently Haresh's first (and only) employer when he was a young kid of 17, newly come to Liberia for a job. He was staying across the bridge and was promised that he would be hooked up with potential employers very soon but he got fed up after a month of waiting - during which he furiously smoked an entire box of cigarettes - and proceeded to find a job himself. He actually struck lucky on the first day of job hunting and with the very first door he knocked on: Chicri Brothers. He worked there for almost a year and at that time, the business was the authorised dealer for Volvo. For most of the time he worked on taking stock of all the Volvo parts. After a year, he started his own business of Volvo spare parts. (No, I am just kidding.)

So there we were, buying paints for our apartment at Chicri Brothers, a place where Haresh got his first job. He was getting pretty misty remembering his boss and how loved to smoke cigars and looked like a movie star. He met a former co-worker who has been working at Chicri Brothers the whole time and never left.  Talk about continuity!

Continuing with my story about my apartment, I am truly enjoying the luxury of having separated my home and work spaces. Sure, it was really fun and adventurous in the beginning when I decided to take over my dear Wesley's IT company, in a fit of lucidity, after he was killed; I had witnessed the birth and evolution of Wes' company that set and maintained standards of excellence and trained from scratch dozens of IT techies. I made the decision to give it  shot - to see whether I could keep the dream alive.

Hence, I immediately took over the company after Wesley's funeral. I shifted NLTC (now known as NATC) from its premises to the apartment in order to live and work in the same space and save costs. This is the apartment where Wesley was murdered by 2 Chinese criminals on Sunday, 6 September 2009 in this very apartment and since, then, I and the IT company moved in there. I've run the show from here since then.

My life became stripped down to the essentials. I was living out of a room in a very basic apartment with the most basic necessities. I enjoyed all the challenges that came with it, especially having to live so simply. Living in the same apartment where Wesley was gruesomely murdered did not freak me out too much either. Over the time, the business started to pick up, I added new clients, I constantly made efforts to keep the apartment-office into a smart-looking place of work, even entertained guests in the balcony and consciously made happy memories. It felt a bit like constructing a new city on the ruins of an ancient one. The apartment is like my own Jericho, one of the oldest cities in the world, built on the layers of 7 older cities.

But, two years of living and working out of the same space is long enough and I am tremendously relieved that my self-imposed challenge is over. I get my life back, yes sir! To hell with living simply. Dafa karo! I want to have a stylish apartment with lots of lamps, lots of funky artwork on my crazy-coloured walls, and shelves and shelves and shelves of my collections of books and DVDs. I am a compulsive collector and love displaying the junk.  I want to be able to come home after work and just crash in front of the TV. I want to host dinner parties with enough space to go around. I am enjoying having a guest room (in fact, Haresh and I just hosted a friend from Pakistan) which I have taken extra care to decorate. I love having a huge wardrobe and a couple of dressers to arrange more neatly my clothes and shoes. It's wonderful to have things organised and in their place. I recently organised my DVDs into themes and it was just SO FREAKINGLY COOL to see my amazing collections proudly displayed. What a kick I got!

I am also fortunate to also have an easy-going partner who is helping me to indulge my pleasures. He is doing all the work: he got the carpenter to make some new furniture for us and, it all turned out beautifully. Yess!

I look forward to enjoying my apartment for a long time to come. I love it so much I don't feel like going out at all these days. After our hectic days, Haresh and I come home at around 6 PM. We proceed straight to our wonderful terrace which is on the roof of our building, have our evening tea and cookies, and watch the sun go down. We then come down and eat dinner at home  (we also happen to be amazing cooks), have some Sharks ice-cream, and watch TV and go to sleep. 

The tota ran away with the totee....

I bought two totas from Mali the other day. I guess they had come out to check whether life would be any better in Liberia but little did I know that they had come to dupe unwitting human beings. Or perhaps their clever owner Ibrahim has trained these birds to expertly escape from flimsy cages which he sells along with the birds and return to him so he can make the same sale over and over again. Whatever the case, after hardly a couple days of having the pleasure of owning some beautiful parrots, planning on making a bigger cage for them, allowing them to use the guest room at night and trying to develop a friendly rapport with them, I stupidly stared at the empty and intact cage and wondered how the heck those birds escaped. 

Why did I even get those birds? I was walking back from the bank on Randall Street in post chocolate-cigar-happiness which had given way to bitter-leaf-bitter-kola-nut-frustration and saw a fellow walking with a bobbing cage from which I glimpsed bright green feathers a few paces ahead of me. I stopped him and asked him how much was the tota-totee pair, and he told me they were for $ 30.00. He told me they were from Mali and as obsessed as I am about that beautiful country with the most soulful music I have ever heard, I don't know what came over me and I decided to make an impulse purchase. So I asked the parrot vendor, Ibrahim, to follow me to my office. While we walked back to the loft, I casually asked him what other exotic animals he could offer me and Ibrahim rattled off a list which included baboon, monkey, chimpanzee and many other endangered and harassed-by humans species. I just shook my head and we reached our office where I parted with $ 30.00 and mentally celebrated happy years of parrot ownership ahead. 

How was I supposed to know my joy was to be so short-lived?

It was so delightful to have the tota and totee sitting in our newly-painted orange balcony, chirping now and then, and seemingly-relaxed in their new environs. I mean, I thought I had rescued them from a doomed future in that tiny cage and some terrible owner who wouldn't appreciate them the way I would. I was going to be get them a bigger cage after all, it was just a matter of asking our carpenter who was in the process of making our new office conference table. I would put them in guest bedroom at night, close the curtains, shut off the light and close the door. Where else would they get their own room? In the mornings, I could hear Haresh excitedly greet them and give them the names of our annoying clients. "Good morning, Mr. X" how are you doing? Did you sleep well?" Oh did I fuss over those birds, plan a good life for them and tried to give them some peace and quiet. 

So lo and behold, one evening, I asked our housekeeper to clean out the cage before she escorted them to the guest bedroom for the night. I had come down from the terrace where I was about to host drinks for friends. I went back up to arrange the chairs and when I came back down for some glasses, I noticed that the totee was missing! And our housekeeper seemingly was unaware as she had already bid them good night. I got so angry at her but she swore that she had no idea what happened. And truly, there was no way the bird could have escaped. There was no sign of breakage. I felt terrible for mian tota and wondered how he would live without his totee begum.

I soon got busy with my guests and planned on getting another friend for my lone tota and a bigger and secure cage on Monday as it was Sunday the next day.

On Sunday, I lonesomely watched the bird alone in his cage and hoped to get him another partner. I went to take a shower and asked Haresh to watch over the bird. I heard a loud holler about twenty minutes later, "Ms. Farzana Rasheed, the bird has escaped." He almost said it proudly as if he had helped the tota escape or whether he had been hoping the bird escape or whether he enjoyed this tragic news, I'm really not sure. 

I ignored Haresh's proud face rushed out on the balcony and gawked at the empty cage. I suddenly remembered the scratching noise the tota had been making all afternoon but did not see any tota-sized escape hole. Did he rub the floor of the cage and summon up a tota-friendly-genie who helped him magically escape? What happened? Haresh of course annoyingly rubbed it in by saying that he told me not to get the birds because he did not know anything about birds and pets have always mysteriously died in his ownership. Who knows, perhaps these birds got a whiff of it and decided to escape with their lives. Either way, I feel stupid!

At the same time, I hope the birds have made it back safely to Mali and are leading a happy life. 

When we were children, my father used to tell us a story that my brother and I were actually parrots who had flown to him one day and over time changed into a little boy and girl. That is why he nicknamed us tota and totee. My mother even today calls my brother tota in affection, especially when she is begging him to come out of the bathroom.  This is how it usually goes: "Beta Tariq, Tariq, Totay!" And the reply is: "Aa raha hooooon!"

I am trying to boycott apartheid

I have recently had a few conversations with friends and acquaintances regarding my objection to the GSM provider, Cellcom, which has the second biggest share of the GSM Market after Lonestar. Well, my objection to them is they being an Israeli company and Israel happens to be an apartheid state which has committed gross acts of crimes against humanity with utter impunity. 

More recently, I made the decision to boycott a very popular event in Monrovia, "Lazy Raft Day," because one of the main sponsors was Cellcom. 

And, for sarcastic fun I started calling it the Israeli Raft Day. God, can you even imagine the terrible tragic comic parallels to the Gaza Flotilla Raid?

I know how random and unfocused my sense of self-righteous anger is. I am so aware of my amateur politics. So, what was the point? Isn't every second or third event in Liberia going to be sponsored by a huge company and chances are it's going to be Cellcom? In fact, the fashion show Haresh and I attended a few weeks ago had Cellcom as one of its sponsors! So much for my disorganised righteous anger. 

One of the ways apartheid in South Africa was defeated was to stop trade with the regime. This would entail boycott of its companies being able to do business internationally. The same needs to be done with Israel. 

I did put my politics into action last year when I was working on a project on a client site which entailed importing routers and antennas from the US. I realised after the fact that the antennas were from an Israeli company and cancelled the order. I went back to the manufacturers of the routers to say that the antennas recommended by them were of Israeli origin and for ethical reasons I could not purchase them. I ended up creating a lot more work for myself because the router company would only officially recommend the Israeli antennas. The ensuing research and efforts paid off though and we ended up importing hardware that worked for our project and we did not have to use those Israeli antennas. 

I realise my meager actions and heated outbursts may not make a huge difference at all but I certainly feel good about exercising my politics. I believe in educating oneself about history, causes and issues around the world and taking a point of view rather than being ignorant and not taking a stand. 

I also understand that one should not impose or force-feed others one's views. Do it discreetly and blog about it at night, in bed, because no one is listening to you!

Business Loan Approved: Giant Leap for the Company

Celebrate your happiness with a chocolate cigar. 

My company (New Africa Technology Company) has made a great leap forward today. We had our loan approved and I signed the offer this morning at the branch close to our office. It is a small loan: $ 20,000.00. I say small because we have taken a lot of credit from the local and overseas market and, have spent a lot of money on building our new office. Most of the loan will be used to pay the market but we have agreed among ourselves to use a portion of the funds to invest back into the business. We will probably import some hardware and software and we have some great ideas already. 

The payment terms cover a period of six months. The interest is 13.5% per annum and 4% flat (processing and documentation fees). The interest is quite high to say the least. 

The whole process from the initial discussions to application; from site visits from the bank to following up every single day and so on, has taken around a month which is not so bad at all. 

Haresh and I have been kicking ourselves for not asking for more but it is a start.  

It felt so good to sign the documentation this morning. I came back to my desk and immediately lit one of my vanilla mini cigars! Haresh also got inspired to have a celebratory smoke even though he has weak lungs. 

I feel like using phrases such as "Liberia is booming;" "There's a good borrowing climate in Liberia;" "Prospects for technology goods and services are quite high." They always sound so impressive and financial.

We are really very excited about the future growth of our company and the kind of heights we are envisioning for ourselves: IT tycoons of West Africa; getting into software development (developing our own OS and making billions out of it); building an R&D Centre; and much more, as far as the imagination stretches. 

I feel rich already!

I don't have a picture for this post but it does remind me of Charlie Brown distributing chocolate cigars when he gets a new baby sister, Sally. I've tried to google that moment and get a picture but simply can't find it. I guess my googling skills are badly wanting.

Meanwhile, I remembered that lo and behold, I actually have a chocolate cigar myself! It's a beautifully presented black praline cigar and I have one left. Here's a picture of my chocolate cigar and mini vanilla cigar taken with my Photo Booth on my Macbook, upside down.

Haresh and I will pose for a photo with our cigars some other day. I am sure there will many more moments of celebration which will call for chocolate cigars.

Evening Tea on the Terrace

Haresh and I are sitting on our rooftop garden sipping our evening tea and eating cheese and tomato sandwiches, listening to Coke Studio songs. It is a great way to end our grueling work days. 

Haresh made a wooden floor and walk way using the left over planks and wood chips from materials for the floor for our fabulous new office. The floor under the chairs is in the same diamond design as the one at our office. 

He also installed a couple of lights (a red light bulb for a romantic mood and a plain energy saving light bulb for normal moods) and an electrical outlet to plug in appliances. It turns out I can also browse on the terrace! 

The garden is coming along even though I really do not seem to have any green fingers at all. My poor plants have started to revive since I have been back from Pakistan. I am planning on adding more fauna and flora. 

We also made friends with someone who has started to grow a herb garden in her balcony and plan to exchange seeds for wine in the near future. It would be nice to have my own mint, coriander, parsley and basil! 

Here's a few pictures taken with my Macbook's Photo Booth but rest assured you will see more cheesy photos in more blog posts as I am so boring and have nothing else to do:

Fashion Show in Monrovia

We all like to try out new experiences; however, unfortunately, it does not work out all the time. I decided to attend a fashion show right here in Monrovia even though these kind of events never appeal to me. But I thought, "let's try it, what the heck." What's more I purchased 2 VIP tickets (for $ 50/head) and even a general seating one for one of my staff members. 

Haresh and I excitedly got dressed for the show. We both wore traditional South Asian suits and felt great. Haresh even wore his Sindhi cap! I wore my new suit which is made out of a silk sari.

The show started 3 hours late and hardly any tickets were sold. As you can see in the pictures below, more than half the seats are empty and most of the people sitting on those chairs look like the staff of hotel where it was hosted (Golden Gate, near the SKD complex). We ended up spending more bucks at the restaurant on drinks and snacks out of boredom. 

The show was really lousy. The microphones were not working. The music was bad. There were a couple of musicians who lip synced to their own really lousy songs. It was really b-a-d and amateurish. There was a stand up comedian and about half of his jokes were funny. The host of the show was quite entertaining and I guess made up for the disastrous event. 

It was a lousy event simply because it started so late, was anti-climatic and really boring. There was a general air of frustration. I could not believe I had dished out $ 100 and had been so excited about attending it.

The fashion show itself show cased 2-3 designers and some of the clothes were quite eye-catching but none of it was mind-blowing. The make up was kind of cool. 

There were some gorgeous models and I must add that they really knew how to strut, pout and work the stuff.

The main designer was Fanta Marazetti, a model turned designer, who definitely seems like a promising designer. Unfortunately, this show was a disaster. 

Apparently, there was a really amazing fashion show held in Monrovia last year. Therefore, I guess I was unlucky. 

I still look forward to more social events in the city and hope each one will be better than the last. 

Most of the guests there seemed to really enjoy the show, and I am guessing most of them are the Liberian 'returnees' from the diaspora. For them, this must be very encouraging and exciting. It's only 'foreigners' like me who must be sulking and comparing these events to those back home for their lack of organisation. 

I did enjoy taking pics and tweaking them afterwards. Here they are:

I think this is the only fountain in Monrovia?

Taken by a "professional" photographer who had come to cover the event

It looks like Haresh is pouting, too.

Help NATC Save a Life

Dear friends and community members,

NATC has sponsored the medical treatment of a young Liberian woman, Naomi Zeinabu Meh, by sending her to India. The girl was suffering from acute pain and given the pure lack of medical care in country, it was not clear what was wrong with her. She even had a leg amputated unnecessarily by doctors at Firestone Hospital. We knew Naomi as an employee of NLTC (NATC's predecessor) and seeing her awful condition decided to send her to India for diagnosis so at least to figure out what was wrong with her. Did she have cancer? Did she need to have her leg amputated? Why was she coughing constantly? 

So we sent her to India and she's been there since about October. The doctors diagnosed her and found her to be suffering from jaundice, TB and a tumour in her pelvic region. Yes, indeed, she does have cancer. It explained the enormous amount of suffering she's been going through. Also, the amputation of the leg was completely unnecessary. The doctors focused on first curing her jaundice and TB - she's been coughing blood and it took time before she was stabilised. The doctors still see her unfit for surgery and would like to her to be fully cured and stable before they consider surgery.

We often communicate with her and see her the pictures she's posted on Facebook. She's doing well and looks much healthier. She's regained some weight and doesn't look like a skeleton anymore. But she needs rest and we are planning on calling her back to Liberia as soon as we pay off her hospital bills.

The purpose of the trip was to have her diagnosed and possibly go for surgery. Naomi ended up staying much longer than we had anticipated and, so far, only her TB and jaundice have been taken care of. The hospital bills mounted and we really exceeded our budget. 

We are in the process of trying to pay her outstanding bills of $ 4,000+ and calling her back to Liberia. She has a return ticket. We want her to come back, spend time with her daughter and recover completely from the TB and jaundice. After that, we will figure out when/how to fund her surgery. We will also know more once she is discharged and the hospital issues a full report. 

NATC has spent around $ 10,000 already in getting her a passport; Indian visa fees from Abidjan; ticket costs; hospital fees; and other miscellaneous costs. It's a significant amount for a mid-size company like ours.

We also sought assistance and contributions by posting on the Liberia Expats Google Group (Liberia Expats <liberia-expats@googlegroups.com>) and spreading the message to some of our friends. We got around $ 1,000.00 contribution from our close friends (a huge thanks to them for standing by our side) and through a friend who is an American philanthropist, a contribution by a member of the Rotary Club in India of $ 2,000.00. 

We need $ 4,000+ to get her discharged. I am extending a request for any amount of contribution! NATC has just moved into a new office and we are quite overwhelmed with expenses. Your contribution will help us and gives you a chance to participate in a good cause. Also, if you know of anyone who would like to help, please help to spread this. 

We have also blogged about it at Help NATC Save a Life. This link also includes a doctor's report.  Please share with people you think would be interested in helping us now or in the future when Naomi needs to go through surgery.

I am also attaching a picture of Naomi at the Nanavati Hospital. 

If you want to know how to help, you may give the donation to us in cash or directly transfer to the NATC Account in Monrovia, Liberia or the Nanavati Hospital in Mumbai, India:

1) Nanavati Hospital, India

Bank name: Axis Bank, Santa Cruz West.

Account no: 778010200000019 in favour of Dr. Balabhai Nanavati Hospital.

Swift code: AXISINBB020

IFSC CO: UTIB000778

Make sure that the Patient details (Ms. Naomi Zeinabu Meh) are mentioned in the transfer.

2) New Africa Technology Company

Ecobank Account Number: 004-1024701946001

IB Bank Account Number: 04-00-02532-6

I look forward to hearing from you! 

Harmattan

When I looked out the window this morning, I was struck at how white the sky looked. The whole view was hazy, almost foggy. You'd think this was a white, snowy sky. I could not see anything I can normally see on the horizon, for instance, Ducor Hotel or the new American Embassy. 

What we are seeing is the Harmattan, fine dust traveling down from the Sahara. Apparently, it's so thick that flights have stopped coming into Monrovia. 

I do not really mind it at all because the sun is blocked and it is slightly cooler.

A friend of mine though suffered from a horrendous migraine for about 2 days which he blamed on the Harmattan. He even came out to dinner with us to the newest restaurant in town (Blue House in Congo Town) and suffered through excellent food and a fabulous ambience with the slowest service possible. He was optimistic though, because he said the migraine would go away the next day as the sun was bound to come out. And guess what, the sun did come out that Sunday! I texted him to ask whether he could also predict other weather changes! He said he's working on it. 

Below are some pictures taken from our terrace: