By Michael D. Jackson
Though the innovative United entrance (R.U.F.) ostensibly fought its conflict (1991–2002) opposed to corrupt govt, the folk of Sierra Leone have been its sufferers. by the point the battle used to be over, greater than fifty thousand have been useless, millions extra were maimed, and over 1000000 have been displaced. Jackson relates the tales of political leaders and traditional humans attempting to salvage their lives and livelihoods within the aftermath of cataclysmic violence. Combining those along with his personal wisdom of African folklore, historical past, and politics and with S. B.’s bittersweet memories—of his family’s wealthy historical past, his imprisonment as a political detainee, and his place in numerous of Sierra Leone’s post-independence governments—Jackson has created a piece of elegiac, literary, and philosophical power.
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Extra resources for In Sierra Leone
Said nothing. He was too busy ordering one of the mechanic’s boys to uncap two bottles of Heineken beer for him as he tugged rubbery strands of meat from a boiled goat’s head. ‘‘Kam eat,’’ he said to me. When I explained I did not eat meat he was incredulous. ’’ he asked. ’’ ‘‘We Africans have tough stomachs,’’ Fasili observed. ‘‘It’s not stomach,’’ I said. ‘‘It’s heart. ’’ When he had ﬁnished eating, Dr. K. removed his gray safari shirt, and summoned a small boy to scratch his back. He was like a hippo, In Sierra Leone 44 as dour as he was massive.
I have four sons, and am struggling to get them through school. ’’ Abdul had had a diamond mining concession in Kono, but the rebels drove him into the bush where he survived with a few friends for three months, living on beans. They were afraid to light ﬁres, or remain for long in the same place. When ecomog soldiers liberated the area, Abdul and his companions were at ﬁrst suspected of being rebels. Abdul managed to get to Freetown, only to witness the horrors of 6 January 1999. He described ﬁve hundred people trapped under the bridge at Congo Cross.
They were thinking we might overpower them and take their weapons. ‘‘Kujé said, ‘Now we’ll kill you,’ and he shot Sheku in the stomach. As Sheku died, I pleaded with them. ‘Don’t kill me,’ I said. ‘I’m going to come with you. ’ ‘‘They ordered me to pack a bag, and to make up a headload of food. Then we headed o√ the way the rebels had come, along the path to Kamadugu Sukurela. We spent that night in Kamadugu Sukurela, which the rebels had already burned and looted on their way to Kabala. I was one of many captives.
In Sierra Leone by Michael D. Jackson