A Word From Suzi

Suzi is a gifted Canadian tutor who has come to Liberia to teach our children. She brings big smiles, creative learning, and laughter to our home. Here is a portion of her journal.

Wuostown (“Wooztown”) - the setting of one of my best memories so far in Liberia: March 30, 2006.

Wuostown is a collection of mud brick homes, recovered leprosy patients, and gorgeous children. It is a setting of tall cottonwood trees, open skies, and God’s love. Kevin, Riana, (Equip staff from B.C.) and I hastened to Bethel Church on a Thursday afternoon to attend an EQUIP Health workshop for children. As we stepped into the shadow of the doorway, the assembly of over a hundred children leapt to their feet and burst into an enthusiastic, clapping rendition of “Brother you are welcome, Sisters you are welcome.” We were thus welcomed and invited to join them. A gifted EQUIP CHA called Andrew Gomah educated the children about proper health practices through skits, songs, and stories. What power truth has. A community that used to be the showcase for children dying daily of preventable diseases now has a choir of kids literally singing a new song. These kids will now change their families’ hand-washing practices and their toileting habits. These kids will spread the message of health and wholeness that EQUIP was created to spread, and will change their future in the process. We in Canada are not even conscious of how we wash our hands; in Wuostown, it’s a revolutionary procedure, and a child who otherwise would have died from diarrhea, worms, or Hepatitis A, to name a few killers, will now live to see tomorrow.

As the workshop concluded Andrew drew our attention to four malnourished babies who are commencing the “Come Eat at my Table” program. It’s hard to gage whose eyes are more heartbreaking: the little boy who barely has the strength to lift his head, or his mother, still a child herself, who knows she cannot afford to feed this infant she bore. The women humbly accepted the bags of baby food handed to them; I just wondered what their stories are…

We were left in the church with fifty wide-eyed kids who stared at Riana and I like we were Christmas morning. I shepherded the whole lot of them into a circle on the floor (alright, I confess, it was rather egg-shaped) and in my best Liberian English I explained the basics of Duck-Duck-Goose. It was by far the loudest, liveliest game I’ve ever participated in. The moment someone was labeled “goose” everyone started shrieking encouragement, cheering, and just creating general pandemonium. They were tireless. Riana and I obviously got picked on more than the rest and I just laughed and laughed every time I had to stand up, pry several kids off my legs, and sprint around the circle once more. I do believe they would have played forever. I led a group of older girls outside and for whatever reason I began to dance. They followed suit without hesitation, mirroring my increasingly ridiculous gestures. In a matter of moments the rest of the kids spilled out of the church and started jumping and singing with us. Dave Waines arrived and led us all singing through the streets of Wuostown. The scene was reminiscent of the pied piper coming to town: children came from everywhere to follow him, skipping along through the huts. It was an amazing picture. In a free Liberia, an “army of children” can finally be described as a group of gleeful, innocent kids parading around spreading smiles, rather than a veritable army of gun-wielding, drug-smoking ten-year-olds spreading terror. A new day has come.

Gbuyee (“Boo-ee”) – a town in the bush, a twenty-minute drive from Ganta down a “passable” road. Gbuyee is still in the clutches of the oppressive Devil Bush. This is the first town Dave and Audry worked in.
We arrived in Gbuyee at nightfall in the company of a light rain. A few people hopped into the back of our truck and we made our way down a steep, narrow dirt road to Bopa, the sight of Gbuyee’s school. The school building is a renovated pig barn. Damage to the school pained Dave as he saw the roof non-existent on the far end of the one hallway, exposing an entire classroom to nature. But as we wandered through the school a spectacular lightning display reminded us who is in charge. Just beyond the school is the “Queen Bee house,” which Dave built for his bride. It’s a two-storey, hexagon-shaped mud house which I would move into tomorrow, given the chance. On the outside wall Audry painted the very applicable words of Luke 7:22: Finished with our tour, we drove back into the heart of Gbuyee and held a candlelit meeting with the locals on the front porch of a shop. The message that every voice echoed was one of craving change. We saw frustration, passion and need. Now we can only pray about what EQUIP’s role will be. God is not finished with Gbuyee, despite their hard hearts.

This is the setting where I see my future. Where the kids climb up your legs and the adults hasten to shake your hand and welcome you. Where the people grow their own food and build their own homes. Where people are content with less. Also, where the need for development, for medicine, for protein, for clean water, for hope, for Christ, is so profound. To provide a solution, one must understand the problem; to understand the problem, one must experience it. This is where I want to teach, but more importantly, where I want to learn. This is where I want to live.

The trouble with this kind of life is that it ruins you for anything else.

 

Copright 2004 Equip Liberia