“…It was a peaceful land whose people were savvy traders and who exhibited
knowledge and pride in who they were.”
~ Facia Y. Best
The picture that comes to mind when these words are read is: a group of children sitting around an elder of their family or their village, learning about their history by word of mouth. Oral tradition is one of the most important components of traditional education of indigenous Liberian children – learning not math, or even how to read, but about who they are, and to take pride in that heritage.
This tradition had been in existence for centuries. But with the coming of the repatriated Americans and the missionaries who followed came a breakdown of the pride and unity our people once so fully lived and exhibited. This breakdown was caused by elitism, the very root of the dysfunctional state of inequality in Liberia today – elitism, a white fish, served to the indigenous peoples subtly on the white, gold rimmed plates of Christianity and of Education. As stated in Part I of this editorial, the religions of the indigenous people were looked upon as pagan. In his inaugural address in 1900, President Wilmot David Coleman stated that in order for the indigenous peoples to be elevated into complete citizenship, and considered as Christians, the fall of superstitious customs would have to be stopped. He went on to say, “Therefore it is quite natural to expect that the effect of our civilization and Christianity has been to break down these greegress and other heathenish beliefs of our native brethren; this effect is just what is rightly to be expected as a result of our contact with them.” The academic and Christian educations our people received taught them that the very objects and practices of their traditions were wrong and ungodly. In addition, [with all due respect to the depth of missionaries’ religious and educational contributions to Liberia], some Liberians recall having been whipped by missionaries for speaking their native dialect; and that some missionaries believed that our traditional cloth represented foreign gods. Some native Liberians also recall having to wear their native cloth in defense of their heritage
In defense of his heritage and of his fellow indigenous Liberians, the late President Samuel Kanyon Doe saw it fit to stage a coup d’etat as a way of changing the then fully running current of Americo-Liberian rule in Liberia. His actions put indigenous Liberians ‘on the map’ in an instant. He may have gone about his agenda the wrong way; but in spite of all the mistakes that Doe made, he communicated what all indigenous Liberians were feeling – “Whah, we nah goo enough for gov’men?” In addition, Doe did not hesitate to wear his traditional gowns and slippers, and to maintain his afro. Neither did he hide his dialect (Krahn), or try to get rid of his accent to sound more English or American in his speech. President Doe also brought more indigenous Liberians into the Cabinet, even though many of them, thought not all, were from his own native group. His actions were viewed as nepotistic, but were a cry for the long yearned for REPRESENTATION of indigenous Liberians, in government. He embodied the sentiments not only of the Krahn ethnic group, but of indigenous Liberians across the country. We, of course, do not condone many of Doe’s political actions. Therefore, our youth would benefit from the use of education of the most trustworthy, unity-oriented kind, so that history does not repeat itself – so that our children do not feel as though they have to literally fight, do something drastic, resort to violence, in order for their worth to be realized, their sovereignty respected and their cries for peace to be heard.
Education is one value that we MUST utilize today, to bring about unity, which goes hand in hand with national pride. Any educator would agree that if a child develops and exhibits pride in him or herself, he or she is more prone to excel both academically and socially. But if this is not the case, the child will face problems in both areas. This theory also proves that efforts to bring about unity must accompany efforts to re-gain traditional pride.
We can begin by validating our tribal groups and dialects in the school setting. This can be done not only through the teaching of the languages, but also through children’s books that make reference to and have positive information and images about the peoples of the various tribes. This can be done from the elementary level. Some schools in Liberia have had the teaching of Liberian dialects in their curriculums for many years, and they are to be commended. Our students will benefit from the many historical books written about Liberia since the recent civil war. The historians who have made this possible must be commended as well. Be it through oral literature, cultural celebration, academic education and education through the Liberian national media, we must find ways to unify the nation by making ourselves aware of who we are and what each of us brings to the table. Let us put one foot in front of the other to make this happen. Intuition has a way of furthering itself with ideas and momentum once the body begins moving in the right direction. So be it with the Liberian family.
Cecilia Zina Bull: A Product of Unity
In continuing our celebration of Liberia’s heritage, Woman’s Page editor Boto Bradford interviews Cecilia Z. Bull, a Liberian educator. Bull is former principal of the College of West Africa, a former Sunday school teacher, and a Vai woman. In this interview she talks about her mixed Liberian heritage as an example of the unification of Liberia’s dual ethnicity. She also borrows from her experience as a Liberian educator to discourse on the crucial role education will play in rebuilding Liberia, and on how unity can be fostered through education.
Boto Bradford: So what exactly is your heritage?
Cecilia Zina Bull: My father is what one would call a ‘true indigenous Liberian.’ His father was of the Vai tribe, and his mother hailed from the Gola tribe. Now my mother, she has a very unique history. Her forefathers were carried from Africa as slaves, and some of them returned to Liberia. Her father returned at age nine, but she is a native of Liberia; and interestingly, I have a great-great grandfather, Hillary W. Johnson, who was president of Liberia. He was my mother’s grandfather. Their heritage includes that of Elijah Johnson. So what is interesting about this is that because of my ancestors being both indigenous and the so-called “Americo-Liberian” heritage, I am a product of unity – a product of the two groups. And this is something that, growing up and even after entering university and doing further studies, I have always been very proud of.
When we were growing up, being from an indigenous or tribal group was disdained. This even occurred in my family because my mother’s father had said that she would only marry my father (who was then a “country man”) only if he was dead. And interestingly enough, they got married in 1940, and her father died in 1939.So with such a background, we have always, my sisters and I, defended our father’s heritage. There was a time in Liberia when if you wore your African attire, you were looked upon with disgust – people were surprised. And so we wore it. What was interesting even when we came to college and went back home during vacations, where people expected you to wear the western clothing at church, everything we brought with us was indigenous. And so even my mother, as much as she supported the indigenous aspect of our culture, would wonder whether we hadn’t brought a dress. And not having brought any dresses, they still wanted us to go to church; so they grew to accept our African attire as worthy of any society. So we purposefully did that.
Another thing is that our father was able to obtain a bachelor’s degree. He read a lot and studied Shakespeare. And he loved it. So what he did was to give all of his children Shakespearean names; but he also gave us our indigenous names. I am called Zina. He named me after his older sister. This was the sister who then “brought him to civilization.” In his family, he had had four sisters, and he was the only son from his mother. His mother’s name was Kona, and he named my oldest sister after her; her sister was Maima and my third sister is named after his aunt. From Shakespeare he got Ophelia, Roslyn and Celia. So there’s always been this uniting force between the tribal groups and the Americo-Liberians. And there were times even politically when people were sort of segregated. I always tried to find some sort of neutral course to promote goodwill. But my parents tried to give us a very good education. And I can say today that all three of us have master’s degrees and are professionals.
BB: What does the name Zina mean?
CZB: It’s a twin name, but he named me after my aunt. They never told me the meaning of it. But she was a woman I looked up to, and she was a very productive lady. In fact it was she whom we visited every vacation, and that enabled us to speak the Vai language. My mother made certain that we stayed with her during the entire vacation season. We spent that time in the interior with our relations. Because some of my father’s relations lived in the home with us, we were able to speak the language together. So we are some of the few who can speak our indigenous language; and we are grateful to our parents for that.
BB: How did your parents meet, and at the time, was that a no-no.
CZB: Yes. As I told you, my mother’s father said that she would never marry a “country” man. My grandfather was a senator from Grand Cape Mount County. My father was a Fahnbulleh. (The Fahnbullehs are chiefs – in fact they claim they are one of the proudest people that ever existed. They have a unique history because they believe in education as well. In fact they have a script. They were one of the few indigenous ones at the time to have a script. In fact the Vai script was used during World War II as a secret code. So we’ve always been proud of the fact that literacy was not foreign to the Vais. But we have a written script as well as an oral language.)
So with regards to how my parents met, my father was given as a ward by my aunt to Hon. Isaac A. David. He served in the House of Representatives from Grand Cape Mount County. My mother’s father was senator; so in those circles they met. He went as ward in search of his education. The Davids were very good to him. He was able to go to school, get an education, and then he proposed to my mother. She was a professional nurse. As you rightly said, it was a no-no. they used to call my grandfather ‘the Golden Senator’ because he had a gold ring on every finger. He was also a businessman. He imported things from Europe, and he had a shop where he sold his merchandise. So when this proposal was made, her father said no. He could not have his daughter marry the ward of Isaac David. But my mother said that was the only man she loved; and she would marry him, or else she wouldn’t marry. Her mother wasn’t against it. The mothers remained silent while the fathers had all the rights. Mommy told us that when her father left for the senate in Monrovia, her mother would close all the windows and they all had to remain at home. She said she didn’t want anyone seeing other people visiting the house, and misinterpreting that to her husband. So the young women suffered. We grew up in Robertsport, a very small area. Very good schools, but so small that you could almost walk from one end of the city to the other. So naturally they had to meet.
BB: So it was a small town union.
CZB: Yes.
BB: Now being of ‘mixed heritage’ as you put it, I know you got to experience life in the Vai community. What do you think both of those ethnicities – your indigenous and Americo-Liberian heritage –both bring to the table to make Liberia what it is?
CZB: Well, there are the things it’s done for me, and in a sense there are ways in which Liberia has benefited. One of them is my ability to associate, communicate and identify with both groups in our community. I think this has also inspired me in the area of education to reach out to both groups. And it is in this area that I feel I’ve been most productive. Because of the many lives I have taught working as an elementary school teacher and later as a secondary school teacher, and at the same time working in a church setting with Sunday Schools. And even on the higher education level, I’ve been able to associate with both groups to the extent that I was able to serve at the University of Liberia as the first female elected student government president. And at the university we had almost an international community because we had students from Nigeria, Ghana and from within Liberia itself. We had students from all of the different counties. So with the type of background I had, I could relate to both groups of people and assist in having them achieve their dreams, realizing that education is the key to success in my opinion.
BB: How do you think unity can be fostered between both groups – between the indigenous and the Americo-Liberians?
CZB: I think one of the first suggestions I would offer, being a product of both, would be more intermarriages. Also, you need education. You also need people with goodwill; and whether you say to achieve goodwill means to be a Christian or to be someone who has a religion, to me education requires dealing with the total person. It’s not just going to school and doing academic work, but the training of the mind, the body and the soul. The more of this that we can have, I think there will be greater hopes for unity. Sometimes we look back at our history and we do not show appreciation for our background. We were blessed to have grown up in a Christian society. Today people look at it as if the missionaries were misleading us. For those who see it that way, I think they lack the joy of life and have not attained the success that they should have had. But for those of us who accepted our missionary training, our religious training, I think it has helped to mould our lives; because for me, there’s a personal relationship with God which, regardless of my academic achievements, has provided a type of soberness to my life and my interaction with people. And so as we seek unity, I think it has to come from within first. I was very happy when I visited Liberia in 2000.
I was a Sunday School teacher. In fact when I left I had been superintendent of the Trinity Sunday School; and at that time we were wishing for students. When I went in 2000, I saw the longest line from B.W. Harris – that’s where they had to move the Sunday School classes to because of the enrollment. And I really felt grateful to God that amidst our difficulties, there were some people who were still holding fast to their religious beliefs.
BB: So your mother made it a point to ensure that you identified with your indigenous side.
CZB: Very much so. In fact many times I though she was more indigenous than my father because there was that openness about her – being able to accept his relations in the home where we interacted and spoke the language – because they knew only Vai when they initially arrived. So in order to play and associate with them we had to learn the language fast. Then by sending us to the interior for the entire vacation with most of the people only speaking Vai, we just had to learn the language.
BB: Having lived in Vai society, I’m sure you consider yourself to a large extent a Vai woman.
CZB: Certainly.
BB: Okay. If I were to ask you, “What is a Vai woman?” What would you tell me?
CZB: A Vai woman is one who is taught to be respectful. And even though some of us may not have gone through the Sande bush, this is one of the teachings from our aunts and other elders. They learned how to serve people. Many people who associate with Vai girls see certain characteristics that make them who they are. That desire to serve, that respectfulness. But by the same token, there’s a certain independence. They’ve also learned how to do; and in the process of learning how to do, they’ve been able to gain that self-respect. This was something that I saw among all of my aunts. Interestingly, we had four aunts, and for most of them, they were their husbands’ only wives. That’s not very indigenous for you to be the only wife (laughs). I admired that about some of the Vai women.
Also, a Vai woman in my opinion and from my observations is one who has a desire to learn. As I noticed in Robertsport and in the interior, we were privileged to have the men desirous for their daughters to go to school as well. You did have a few who may not have preferred it. And what they would say was that the women were “wasting.” Many of our uncles who would come down and see us still going to school, not married or having children would say, “you all are wasting.” But in the Cape Mount area – and that’s including the interior, the city, etc – a lot of girls went to school. We had this mission called the House of Bethany for girls. So there was this great desire to go to the House of Bethany where from all over the interior, girls came. And this is where we really got a balanced education.
BB: What did you think of your mother as the descendent of an Americo-Liberian? Were there certain “ Congo” characteristics she had? And if so, what were they?
CZB: (Laughs) There was one interesting thing. As much as she loved us and as much as she loved the tribe, when she got annoyed or when we did something that was not acceptable, she would say, “That’s the country part in you.” But one of the things I would say about her as an Americo-Liberian and as a very unique one – and also if you look at history – when someone leaves his or her cultural group and steps over, they become distinct in themselves. And I think this was true of my mother.
Now when you attempt to identify the western culture, it is interesting that because the Vais were a group of people who believed in education (in fact they called the Vai people the “book people’), they would be found tirelessly writing and studying. As you know with the western culture, one of the things that were carried to Liberia was this desire for education. It was as if parents who themselves didn’t get it, made sure their children did. Of those who went to Liberia, it appears as if most of them were domestic servants. And I say that because of the type of structure of government that existed in comparison to that of farming. Maybe in our section of the country, our soil was not as productive for them to have been interested in agriculture. As you know, there were two kinds of slaves – the domestic ones, and the cotton planters (or those you would call the farmers). But in the Cape Mount area, even if you go there now, there isn’t much farming that has gone on. I think there are other sections of the country like Lofa County, that do more farming than what has been done in Cape Mount. Cape Mount is actually regarded more as the educational area because even in the interior, there were schools established; and people from all areas of Liberia came to Cape Mount to school. With regards to my mother being an Americo-Liberian, she had more of a focus on education; and that includes health education, because Cape Mount had one of the best hospitals. And there were missionaries who served in that hospital. In fact they even established a nursing school – the one my mother graduated from. There were girls from all over Liberia who came to that school as well. This was the St. Timothy Nursing School, where she got her Nursing degree. One friend of hers came from Monrovia to attend the nursing school in Cape Mount.
BB: What was the name of the town you spent time in?
CZB: We are from the Fahnbulleh clan. And the major city is Gbeseh. But there was a town about 30 minutes from there that my grandfather established. That was his farm area. As I said before, I didn’t see a lot of farming growing up; and what strikes me is that when you visit other areas where farming is important, as you drive into the area, you will see farms on all sides. But even though that was his farm, it was just a regular town where people lived. They may have done some subsistence farming of rice. But the teaching of Arabic and Vai were the things that dominated the area. Most of the relations developed a community and lived there. With the structure of government, someone was assigned by the government as the chief in that area. He handled the locale. He was given a stipend or what one would call a salary – some type of financial remuneration for the services they rendered in keeping the people together. Gbeseh was the big Vai town in that area.
BB: So what was it like spending the summers there? What was life like?
CZB: We got up in the morning, and my aunt would take us t the farm with her. They would cook. When the birds came to eat the rice crop, they would give us certain things to drive them away. They also made something like a scarecrow that, when the birds came, frightened them and scared them away. So we the children had to get rid of them. While there, we would cut the rice – they planted rice and palm trees. And it’s quite interesting that they used to cut the palm and make soap. They got the oil also, but they made soap. As children we would carry whatever we needed for the day from the town (mats, etc.), and we would stay on the farm until about four or five o’clock. Then we’d start coming back to town. They would either cook the food for the evening on the farm or upon returning. Everyone would take a bath and sit around. It was beautiful in the moonlight when people would dress up and the “devil” would be out to dance. We would sit around in the moonlight under the hut while the dancing was going on.
There was another activity that went on. Most of my relatives were Muslims. My father was really the only Christian in his immediately family. The Muslims prayed about four times a day. By 4 o’clock there would be this cry going through the town. That meant it was time to get up and prepare for prayer. In the evening after the prayer, they would all change into their nicest clothing and go into the palaver hut and sit under it. When my father went with us, he was something like a chief to whom they would have to narrate everything that had happened while he was absent. But there was a division between the women and the men. It would be the men who would come to relay what had happened. The first person would start talking. When he was finished, he would turn it over to the next person; and each of them had to explain what had gone on – whether good or bad. But this was how they spent the evening – conversing, dealing with the problems of their society, indicating what they needed, making suggestions as to what they wanted: a mosque built; if they felt the need for a school; they had their discussions in these little meetings.
BB: Did women do most of the farming?
CZB: The major thing the men did with regards to farming was to clear the area. But after they did that, most of the planting, maintaining and harvesting, was done by the women and children. So when we went up to our aunt, that’s where we spent our time. In some of the villages, they just grew enough food for themselves. Those who were capable would do a little more; and if the harvest was good that year, they would be able to send bags of rice to relations or sell their produce in the market. So actually, you could say that it was small business in a sense. If they had had the know-how, it could have grown. We were fortunate actually with one Fahnbulleh who was able to go out of the country where he learned how to can vegetables and fruits. It was a question of coming back and teaching others and also being able to purchase the material. In those villages they had a lot of oranges; and they could grow some good pepper. So you did have some vegetables and fruits. But again, our people were not really taught how to be good farmers. So in our section of the country we cannot boast of that. But we boast of education, the desire for and that ability to strive, seek and search for it.
BB: I know you said the women did a lot of farm chores and things like that. What is role of the Vai woman in society?
CZB: Interestingly, we had some ladies who ran to become paramount chiefs. That was the interesting thing when we went with out father. He was involved in the local politics there – when they were having elections and so on. (And the elections in the interior were by far different from what goes on today, what we would call the ballot box. They stood behind whomever they were supporting, physically standing in rows and having people count.) And I can remember this lady winning an important chiefdom election. And it’s strange for women to be involved. But even on the western side, my mother was head of the political group there. We as children were always around and observing these kinds of things. So you had it both ways. You had the women’s political movement group, and in the indigenous society ladies running for positions as well.
BB: What else was their role?
CZB: Well, as I said, being involved in politics, farming, as usual taking care of the family. But what is interesting in the indigenous society is that it’s something that the women share – caring for the family. And even in the western society, in the areas where we grew up, any woman could be your mother and any man could be your father. They observed your activities. Some of them had the right to spank you right where you were if you were misbehaving. Those who didn’t do it made certain to come and “report you” or say what they saw you do wasn’t appropriate. And your parents had to take action. We felt they took action to encourage more of that (laughs). It’s like what Senator [Hillary Rodham] Clinton said: “It takes a village to rear a child.” I hear people are now analyzing her book and trying to defeat the concept. They may say it’s not true in America. But in our traditional setting, we can say that that is true. The minute an adult was around, you had to be very careful what you said and what you did. They all contributed to your training, your up bringing and your growth.
BB: So as you see Liberia today, what progress do you think has been made as far as unity and even particularly in the areas of government, politics and education. What progress do you see if any?
CZB: I have to give credit to President Tubman for his unification and integration policy. I think he was one of those who were willing to afford most Liberians the opportunity to become a part of the government. He may have had his reservations, but if you were educated and capable, the opportunity was there for you. And for those who were able to utilize their time appropriately and get an education, I think education became the equalizing factor in our society. And we have to be grateful to God for that because in most of classrooms in most of the schools, (I was principal of the College of West Africa) as much as you may have had the Padmores, the Dennises, but equally so, you had just as many, if not more indigenous students attending schools.
Granted we are considered a failed state, I share the view of a religious lady who said, “If you have trained your child very well, even though that child makes mistakes or evil may befall him, yet because of that training, he will rise again.” And this is the hope I have for Liberia. The only thing I’m concerned about is the type of education that we would want to continue to emphasize. I have been one of those advocating a balance between academics and vocational/career education. We have emphasized all of the academic strains and ignored the vocational, career and technical education. We need to emphasize both. I know the vocational education is very expensive, but it’s the most productive, especially with the high illiteracy level. Why must the Ghanaians come to Liberia and make bread to sell for us? Why must the Fula people come and sew our clothing? These are all skills that in our vocational and technical institutions can be readily developed so that at the time a person is completing the ninth grade, he or she has a viable skill. And by the time he or she completes high school and enters college, it would be almost perfected. But unfortunately, we have not done it. I have argued in educational forums for this; we have not done it, but we need to do it. Like the BWI we had. There were electricians and plumbers before they even entered college. Some people still go to higher levels of education. But we are talking about a level at which skills can be readily absorbed and used. Now with the child soldiers, people who grew up in the war doing nothing but fighting, these people need to learn some skills fast enough to take away that soldier mentality. What was happening was that people were even graduating from college without any skills. Whatever education we advance, we must advance one that creates that balance. In Cape Mount, students went to school for certain hours, up until two o’clock. They left the academic aspect of their education and each student had to sign up for some vocational training program. There were people who taught Carpentry, there were Tailors who came in from the community to teach Sewing, the girls went through Home Economics/Cooking Class, there were music classes, and these skills were being developed along with the academic skills. But in other sections of the country, it was purely academic. Especially Monrovia where there was a huge population, there were less vocational skills available.
BB: That’s a very interesting point, and it makes a lot of sense. Now as an educator, now that Liberia has been though all of this, what do you think of our identity as Liberia? All of the other African countries that were colonized by foreign powers have formed their own identities. They have designed their own flags, many of their national anthems are in their native dialects. What do you think of Liberia’s national emblems?
CZB: That has been a controversial issue in our society as to whether we re-examine some things like our motto: “The love of liberty brought us here.” How do you deal with those types of historic issues? What we need to recognize is that history is history. Nothing can change what was. So there are certain things, as unequal as they may seem now, some of those may have to remain. But what has to be done is that there has to be an educational process where one can understand why it is that it is as it is. This is the work that needs to be done because whatever happened happened, and you cannot deny that it did. So the question is: should we at this time attempt to re-examine those things? Are there ways we in which we think we can create a balanced situation? Should we go forth to change those things? It’s a question that one has to weigh very carefully because in the process of trying to create change, if so much is destroyed, has it been for the better or for the worst? In a sense, this has been part of our problem. Maybe we have been naïve. Maybe we have to say, “This is our problem. How do we go about dealing with it?” If we say we are scholars, if we say education is vital to us, then we must be able to assemble in a meaningful way, lay the cards on the table, discern what is good and what is evil, and how the change can be made. We cannot think that by fighting or becoming so resentful an angry, it will create the change that we want. No! When we talk about education, this is where you can see the value of it and of Christianity – the purpose of dealing with the whole person so that you can become more objective in your thinking. Yes, we need to put these things on the table. Yes, we need to discuss them objectively. Yes, we do not wait for periods of crisis before we address them because as a professional administrator, one of the things I’ve learned is that in periods of crisis, it’s more difficult to solve a problem. When things are normal and there is general consent, people can be objective, and it becomes an issue of development and growth. And after every one has approved of the plan, then the period of implementation comes. So again it comes down to education, goodwill, a willingness and ability to understand, to interact and to hope for what is best for all.
BB: I guess I’m saying that the identity crisis is one of the root causes of the instability in the country today. So should we, since we have no where to go but up right now, take this opportunity while we’re rebuilding the nation to deal with this unification problem. That motto, “ The love of liberty brought us here” is only representative of one group. What about the people who were already here? Are you saying we should wait until the country is stable?
CZB: You have to wait. It’s better to wait. But it’s not something that you just discard because we know that it has been an issue of concern. Again, our educational system also needs to build in some of these types of issues, and not just wait for national forums. I taught social studies at CWA and at Demonstration School. It’s in this area that we have to have some teachers who would understand and know what they are doing. In my senior year (I did Liberian Studies at the university), it was a very political time. This was in 1968 when they were arresting people. The government had people on salary who would look out or listen to conversations and report or relay them. So we had this teacher who taught us Liberian Studies. Some of us were asking innocent questions – questions we know amounted to obtaining a better understanding of the subject. But the professor was so afraid to engage in an academic discourse because he felt that there were people in his class who would record what he had to say, and he could be arrested. This really hindered our learning because there I was, a student in that class. I was leaving that class to go and become and classroom teacher! But there are still some people who are concerned enough and can say to people: “I can do myself and my country a greater service if we can lay these things on the table in the classroom and discuss them.”
I always say to my students, “This is the one place where you can make a mistake and not be penalized for it. Rather, this is where transformation is supposed to occur. And this is what I’m calling for – more people of this type who can work in the classroom with the students; and then you can also have these kinds of forms out there. Not during crisis periods but for the type of transformation and a question of identity you’re talking about. It’s a great responsibility that our schools, churches and homes have. But it’s possible with our type of population and our culture that the homes may not play the type of role because with the type of children we have now who are without parents and the AIDS rates are so high, institutions will play a major role in the training and development of our children. So we have to strive to have the best teachers in those classrooms. This has really made the difference.
I look at the graduates from CWA. When I see these students today, I’m thrilled. I fee satisfied because I think that having worked with them from seventh to ninth and tenth grade, these are all very formative years. Most of them today have been able to do graduate work, marry, have children, and we have so many of them [in the United States] today. I thank God that whatever it was the happened, it happened for the best. Only people who are not satisfied with themselves will e angry and bitter. And I saw this anger and bitterness in 2000 when I went home.
In the indigenous setting, it’s called ‘Gbangcor.’ It’s an indigenous hut that is built. The mud is just halfway around and the thatch is on top. So it’s technically an open spaced place. But when I saw the gunshots tear through the mud portion, then I knew that someone had been so angry that he just had to fire at something. It really left me thinking that when people take children through value programs to help with anger, sometimes people think it’s a waste of time. But it’s important. If you don’t work with people who have such anger, this is what happens to a country. So we must become very concerned about to type of education that we intend to offer our children.
It’s good to have worked in the areas I have worked in. I can say now with satisfaction that at least I made my contribution to Liberia. At the university I was also able to organize the first continuing education program. This was for people who had had to leave school, were gainfully employed, but wanted to return to school. We organized this program, and so many people of whom we know in the Liberian community – so many of them while doing their banking and other jobs, were able to go to school in the evenings in this program and earn their bachelor’s programs. So feel proud to have been one of those who have promote education, but emphasizing more functional type of education that our people can use. Discipline is also very important. When I hear my former students stand up and speak on issues, I am satisfied that they practice the discipline I instilled in them. But this is one blessing for Liberia: there is nothing you can say a Liberian woman can’t do. Yes, they play their role in the home, but they have held their own.
What does the A stands for in Isaac A. Davids?