Once again, the world’s attention turned to Sierra Leone as disaster claimed the lives of hundreds, if not thousands. But, long after foreign media and international NGO’s move on to the next story or the next big disaster, people all across this city will continue to reckon with what they lost that morning. The mudslide and flooding took men, women, and children; it took homes and cars; it consumed an entire community, but Sierra Leoneans reacted with resilience as they have to every disaster they’ve faced.
Volunteers flocked from all across the Western Area to zip up bright yellow PPE’s and undertake the traumatic, heroic task of digging up bodies. With no promise of money or compensation, hundreds of young men and women spent their days conveying corpses, caring for displaced families, and digging graves for the 500 bodies. These brave, selfless volunteers saw disaster strike and said, “How can I help?”
I was, time-and-time again astounded by the generosity and empathy people have shown this week, whether it’s letting strangers sleep in their house or spending two days digging graves over a meter deep. Natural disasters like this can be an incredibly powerful uniting force and the people I’ve met over the last week all rose to this massive challenge.
Perhaps too often in this column I focused on the numbers. For this, I think it’s more important to look at the human stories behind those numbers. Saying 500 people died and 1,000 are missing doesn’t tell you much about the true trauma this disaster brought. The tearful plea of a bereaved young girl conveys the human impact better than any statistic ever could.
Hawa Stevens lost 28 family members in Monday’s disaster but could only identify two of her deceased relatives at the mortuary. “I can’t believe my eyes…mother, father, sisters, brothers, cousins and other family members all gone,” Stevens cried. “My life has been shattered. Where will I start? What about my education… please help me God.”
Many lost everything in the mudslide. Ibrahim Massquoi, like so many others, was at a loss for words after searching for his wife and two daughters amongst the corpses at the mortuary. “I don’t have anything now, only the clothes I’m wearing,” Massquoi said. “My kids, they were my future but now I have lost my kids and I lost my wife. Two girls, gone. As I stand, I don’t know how to talk, I don’t even know what to say because everything is down, everything is gone.”
I can’t imagine how traumatizing it would be to walk amongst the rows of bodies, searching each and every lifeless face for a sign of recognition. With each body saying, “Is that my wife? Is that my son or father or best friend?” I only saw the bodies for a minute or two and even I’m having a hard time forgetting that terrible sight. But the families and friends I talked to at the mortuary remained hopeful and pious; praying to God for their loved ones.
As we continue to deal with the fallout of this terrible disaster, I think it’s important for everyone, especially the government, to think about what lessons can be learned. Why exactly did this landslide happen? Did people cut down too many trees? Why were people allowed to build in this disaster-prone area? What factors pushed them to build there? What other natural disasters are looming across the country? Does the government have emergency response plans and how can they be improved?
These are big questions, much too complicated for any one person to answer, but answers are desperately needed if we’re to prevent the next mudslide or flood or disease outbreak from happening. If we learn nothing and change nothing, then all those people will have lost their lives for nothing. In the same way that thousands of people – young and old, men and women, rich and poor – rose to the challenge of this disaster, lets call for the government to do all they can to prevent the next one.
Timothy’s Take
Tuesday August 22, 2017.
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