My Experience

Dear Liberia,

I’ve heard so much about you over the years, seen pictures of what it was like “back in the day”, tasted your food and listened to your stories.

Dear Liberia,

Why are people telling me not to come? It’s not safe, I’ll get robbed, I’m crazy to go.

Dear Liberia,

Here I am.

Dear Liberia,

I’ve been here a week, and nothing has happened. Still alive and well. No one has tried to rob me.

Dear Liberia,

I came with intentions and plans.

Dear Liberia,

I have found another problem much bigger, that I cannot solve.

Dear Liberia,

Where has your spark gone? Why are you so harsh on yourself? When will the past stop shadowing your future? Haven’t you been through enough? I can feel your tiredness, heaviness and frustration, that things are not moving as you wanted. 

Dear Liberia,

I know you did not pick out the name ‘Pro Poor’; as a cancer patient wants to be known as just a patient, a poor person just wants to be a person. Don’t you agree ‘Pro People’ would have been a better choice?

Dear Liberia,

I drove on a partially new road, I saw kilometres of piled red soil ready to be compacted for the rest of the road. I wondered if the mounds of soil were used, or did the rains wash them away? I hope some people were able to learn a new skill and profit from working on the road. I didn’t see many working.

Dear Liberia,

You are blessed with women who have the strength of Hercules. 

Dear Liberia,

I believe in you, it’s your time to shine. Let the outside world know what you are really made of, show them how diverse and colourful you are. Let them enjoy our countryside, taste your food and wear your bright clothing. Your colourful material is the real reflection of you: Beautiful.

Dear Liberia,

I can feel the spark growing into a flame. You will shine brighter than ever. I believe in you.

Dear Liberia,

Thank you for all that you have taught me. I will be back.

Sincerely,

Sheri Marshall

Featured Picture by LigerianOptics