Gender Based Violence

I’ve been in Voinjama four weeks, or is it four months? I can’t tell the difference anymore. My project is in the very beginning stages so there is nothing to follow-up on and poor Jamila has noticed my desperation and is doing her best to throw random tasks in my direction. Two weeks ago (I know, I haven’t done a very good job of keeping my blog updated) I was able to tag along for a Gender Based Violence (GBV) workshop that IRC (International Rescue Committee- an international NGO that has an office just down the road from our compound) was putting on for our ex-combatant groups. There are four different communities that we work out of, one of them being Voinjama proper, while the other three are a good 45 minutes out in the bush. I am often amazed at 1) how people even know these villages exist as they’re so remote and 2) what possessed people to set up a village in that particular spot in the first place? The roads are extremely narrow and the bush extremely thick and overgrown. It would be a proper jungle except for the occasional plot which as been burned (communities still practice slash and burn agriculture -I don’t blame them) and the lack of animals and birds (once again, no livestock so hunting has wiped out the majority of wildlife). One can drive and drive and drive and then, out of nowhere, a village appears.

The first day of the workshop took us to Marvekonedu, a Mandingo village. The Mandingos are a Muslim tribe and were very active in the war. This particular ex-combatant group only has one male member who also happens to be the only English speaker. I didn’t feel comfortable walking up to one of them and asking “so what was your role in the war?” but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t curious. They ranged in age- some of them had to have been children during the war while a couple struck me as being quite old. This was just another reminder of how no one was unaffected: young, old, male, female.

The workshop itself was held in a mud house with all the children dying to get a look at the “vabu” (that would be me) and the adults constantly shooing them away. The children are timid here- nothing like Uganda- although there were a few that finally worked up the courage to touch me and then attempted to talk to me (alas, my Mandingo is not what it used to be). The workshop itself was fascinating, no, MIND BLOWING. The facilitator began by making a series of statements in which the participants were to raise their hands if they agreed. #1: A man has the right to demand sex from his wife at any time. All hands went up. #2: The wife has the right to say no to her husband. Four out of eight hands go up. #3: A husband has a right to beat his wife. All hands go up. Absolutely unreal. How can a country possibly develop when the entire MINDSET of the country needs to be changed? I heard recently that approximately 65% of Liberian women have been raped- an estimate that the UN believes to be too low. Like I said, mind blowing. We began by discussing the difference between sex and gender (what is biological and what is social), power, people in power, age of consent, and rape and its consequences. However, I am very happy to report that with this particular group, when the statements were read again at the end of the session, everyone disagreed on #1, all but one disagreed about #2, and the majority disagreed on #3. Progress.

The rest of the week was a success and I was so encouraged by the thought of conducting other workshops that Jamila handed the task over to me. So, my new project has been to line up different organizations that will come and talk to our groups on a range of subjects. IMC (International Medical Corps) will come and speak about general health, sanitation, child care, HIV/AIDS, etc. and the UN Human Rights and Protection officer will speak about human rights, the rights of a Liberian citizen, and how to be a good citizen. Needless to say I am excited about the potential impact this may have.



Mustafa, the IRC facilitator, is holding a poster commonly used as a billboard around Liberia. Note the "Special Liberian English".

The Voinjama Life

When we finally arrived at the Visions in Action compound in Voinjama, my first thought was “What on Earth have I done?” A pretty normal reaction, I would say. The compound itself is not very large but it contains the guesthouse (where I live with my counterpart, Jamila), the office building, storage house, and parking for the vehicles, motorbikes, and lone John Deere tractor. The guesthouse is, um, basic: a mud brick home with four bedrooms, a bathroom, and a “kitchen.” It is plagued by termites and the walls crumble a little more each day, BUT [knock on wood] I still haven’t come across a rodent! So, ha! While we don’t have running water, Jamila was able to work it out with the Pak Batt to come and fill up our water tank every couple of days. They supposedly filter the water so that it is ok to drink, but I guess for now I’m just going to stick to my 28 gallons of drinking water I purchased in Monrovia.

Voinjama itself is larger than I expected (its actually bigger than my hometown of Dougherty!), but I might as well be living in a tiny village for all of the amenities it offers. They don’t even have juice- just little packets of flavored sugar. Apparently before the war it was quite the happening place with real buildings and even electricity. Now it is primarily huts with zinc roofs, a few generators, a UN base, and a Pakistani Battalion keeping the peace. If you look at a map, Voinjama is right on the border with Guinea, which to me, presents an interesting paradox in that Guinea is much better off economically than Liberia despite its “coup” status at the moment. (In December, Guinea’s president died and instead of having his successor take over, the military did. While more military personnel were called in and the UN closed the border points fearing an influx of refugees, it has been a bloodless coup.) Thus, despite the political disruption, we have taken to calling Guinea “The Promised Land.” People constantly cross the soft borders in order to buy goods and then resell them here. The town of Macente (Guinea) is only two hours away and yet they supposedly have the same products as Monrovia at a cheaper price. Which brings me to another point: Liberia is EXPENSIVE. I nearly had a heart attack shopping in Monrovia when I saw a box of Corn Flakes for EIGHT dollars. Because Liberia’s industry and economy were completely destroyed during the war, they import EVERYTHING from the States or Europe. On average, I would say everything is 3x the price of what it would be at home. Even in Voinjama, where all they can offer is Club Beer (Liberia) and Coke, they still manage to charge an arm and a leg. (Over a dollar for a can of coke).

Work wise, well, I really don’t have much to report. My project will be the USDA Food for Progress grant which focuses on developing aquaculture, rice and vegetable production in Liberia through the distribution of seeds and tools, training and the introduction of post-harvest technology. One of the main focuses has been on the New Rice for Africa (NERICA). NERICA (according to my background reading) is the product of interspecific hybridization between the cultivated rice species of Africa and Asia. It has had great success in West Africa so I am anxious to see how people accept it here in Liberia. My role will be to interview farmers, write success stories and progress reports for our donors (USDA) and my own little side project in which I would like to evaluate the transfer of this technology between our beneficiaries. Of course, I have to actually get into the field first: we don’t have a working vehicle at the moment and the generator was down for five days. God Bless Africa. ☺
My roommate, Jamila, has been my rock since I have arrived. She graduated from Indiana University with her MPA a year ago and has been living in Voinjama since September. She really paved the way for me in that she arranged for water, found a cook, and obviously knows the ropes around here. Food wise, we hire Komoza who has a cook shop right next to the compound. We eat Liberian dishes which ALWAYS consist of rice and a type of “gravy” to go over it. Beef is very expensive (remember there is hardly any livestock here) so people eat bush meat. Bush meat could be anything: monkey, deer, porcupine, rat, ANYTHING. While I have tried the deer here (at least that’s what they told me it was) Jamila and I just stick to eggs for our protein. But, I suppose if the opportunity presents itself to eat monkey, well why not?

The hardest part about Voinjama is the seclusion. I can’t go anywhere by myself (a point which was emphasized after my first trip to the market- I will refrain from the details as I know my mother reads this) and since Jamila and I don’t have driving privileges, we are basically stuck. The ex-pat community here is dwindling as many NGOs are finishing up their grants, people are leaving and aren’t being replaced. So you know what that means: UN HERE WE COME! Jamila figured out early on that if you wanted to get anything done, you had to make friends with the right people. So it was just my luck that at approximately the same time I arrived so did Captain Rico Cody- the new UN Military Observer from the US. A little side note: There are approximately 10 UN missions going on in the world at the moment. The mission in Liberia is called UNMIL- the United Nations Mission in Liberia. The US has an “observer” at each mission because the US provides a third of the UN’s budget. Rico, in my opinion (but not in his) is living the good life. His office is at the UNMIL compound which has a gym, 24 hour electricity, TV, refrigerator and air conditioning. Oh, and he can go home to the States once a month AND receives danger pay. But this is neither here nor there as he is also our ride, lets us use his internet, and gives us food (woohoo for Frosted Flakes!) from the UN grocery store. ☺ Obviously, we got to know each other right away as Jamila, Rico, and I are the only Americans here. But what really sealed the friendship is that Rico’s ex wife is from Des Moines and his son is a freshman at Iowa State!!! How CRAZY is that?

So, here we go! Voinjama is definitely no destination but it has been an adventure thus far (and a overwhelming, intense, yet boring one at that). Wishing you all the best!



Our cook, Komaza, in her cookshop making us dinner.



The Guesthouse



Typical Village