Three Samuel Does

Three Samuel Does
By: Nvasekie Konneh
February 6, 2010
I. Samuel Doe the Unknown
Was he on the Upper Layer of the 3rd or the 7th Sky? Where on this vast planet earth was him? Was he in the inner circle of the lower region of the milky moon watching us with cold frozen eyes? Was he in his hidden corner consulting the occult science teachers as how to lighten his way with his ambitious plan of upsetting the traditional order of things in our sleeping world? Whatever might have been the case, we were unaware of his existence and we could care less who he was and what he planned to do. He was not one of those firebrand revolutionaries whose revolutionary rhetoric was sounding like sweet music in our ears. No, he was not one of those firebrand revolutionaries who were prophesying the new days to come. So there was no justification why we should have bothered to think of someone like him. This unknown young man might have set his sight so high like a high powered cameral focusing on all of what was going on in the country. What was the firebrand revolutionaries who were preaching all those earth shattering revolutionary messages thinking would be the outcome of their revolutionary preaching? What were the highly entrenched crazy baldheads thinking of all that were going on? Neither side ever thought of this unknown figure who would come to upset the more than hundred years old system of minority rule with an announcement of brand new days of liberation, hope and progress. With all the truck loads of degrees from the greatest colleges and universities, they knew not what tomorrow would bring. Some people said after the event that they could see the atmosphere pregnant with premonition of things to come but none could say with total surety and clarity the exact manner and time of what was to come. That’s why it took all of us by surprise when we heard the announcement on the radio that a change had come and we were now free like bat to do whatever we wanted to do. Could this change be real? Could this be a rouse by the entrenched system to nab the so called revolutionaries and take them to where we would never see or hear of them again? There were zillions of questions on our minds but as time went by we realized and believed that a change had actually come and a man called Samuel Doe and fellow juntas were firmly in control. Like when you went to bed and not knowing what would unfold in the morning only to discover when the sun rises that a change had taken place.

II. Samuel Doe the Hero
I heard them say that in some places revolution could not be televised. But in some places revolutions have surely been televised for the whole world to see. No prophet of truth and faith and love can ever died in spirit, though the physical body may be buried. His can be a reservoir of inspiration pumping fire burning revolutionary feeling in the living souls of generations now and generations to come. All prophetic teachings and preaching from the blessed tongues of Blyden, D. Twe, Albert Port and many others transformed into new burning living sun of inspiration of our time giving birth to new revolutionary prophets like Baccus, Tipoteh, Sawyer, Fambulleh and other revolutionary firebrands with limited power to physically overturn the rotten system of minority dominated regime of more than 100 years old. With the limitation of the power of PhDs to convince the crazy baldheads who were so bent on perpetuating the outdated dying system, necessitating the participation of forces less enlightened to effectuate the final push for the expected change. This change was the hour of rebirth for the country and we rose up in happiness never before seen in the length and breath of this nation. Change we had been waiting for was finally here and we had to celebrate that change. Yes Tolbert was a good man but he headed a system controlled by men with outdated thinking who could not show any inclination to embrace the change that were absolutely necessary. Change can sometime be like mighty river drowning all those that stand in its way. Samuel Doe and his fellow juntas embodied this change. Even though they were not the big names firebrand revolutionaries we all knew but they were the instruments that made the change possible. We were thirsty for freedom and for the first time we tasted freedom as never before. It was the hours of the sun, moon and star. The hours of the weeping souls and flesh. The hour of the heroes. The hour of our deliverance from the tentacles of octopus that was sucking our collective energy. Doe and his friends manifested the symbol of our Liberian Dream of freedom, justice and equality. They were our modern days Shaka Zulu, Mansa Musa, Samori Toure, Behanzi, Sunni Ali, King Sao Bosso Kamara and many great leaders of the past. We loved and worshipped Samuel Doe and the revolution with all the promises of beautiful paradise for us all. We wore the revolution like beautiful colorful garments. We marched on the streets, chanting, in the cause of the people, no more corruption, struggle continues! It was the hours of our liberation and those that made it possible were the heroes of our many years of struggle!

III. Samuel Doe the Villain
What happened to the revolution? What happened to all the lofty ideals of the revolution? Did everything vanish into thin air? Didn’t we sing the songs? Didn’t we recite the poems? Didn’t we dance on the streets in celebration of the revolution? Didn’t the revolution put an end to nepotism, rampant corruption, abuse of power by the few against the many? Oh I say where were all the lofty goals and ideals of the revolution? Did the revolution vanish into thin air or did it burst into bubbles we could no longer hold together? As years gone by, all these questions started to pop up in our minds. All because the revolution did not end sectionalism, nepotism, rampant corruption and abuse of power. The revolution began to eat its own children one by one. The Prophet of the revolution ceased to be the liberating prophet we saw in the beginning. He was no longer the hero. What happened when the revolutionary prophet betrays his own revolution and people? What happened when he goes after other people with vengeance, derailing the revolution? I say the revolution was betrayed and things started going down hill, down hill, and down hill. Same hands that pushed him up the ladder became the same hands pulling him down the ladder. They used to sing songs of praises. Now they were singing songs of condemnation. They used to recite poems of praises. Now they were reciting poems of condemnation. Yes, every good thing must come to an end. The revolutionary became the reactionary, no longer the hero. He ceased to be the man who had inspired true nationalism in our hearts and minds. He was transformed into a tyrant whose thirst for power could not be quenched. It was no longer about the people. It was no longer about the hero who loved and cared about all the people. Everything now was about the tyrant who wanted to rule forever with power of supremacy. He forgot the revolution was about the people and that he was just an instrument for change the people had dreamed and aspired to. He forgot that the assassination was only necessary so that change may come to free the masses from subhuman bondage of an outdated degraded system. He deviated from the path of the revolution, betraying the cause of the revolution. From the dialectic of nationalism, everything was reduced to ethnic dialectic that became cancer infecting the whole nation. He became a hunter protecting narrow self-interest against the popular democratic revolutionary aspiration of the masses.

About the author: Nvasekie N. Konneh is a Liberian poet and write and veteran of the US Navy. He’s the author of the book of poetry, “Going to War for America.” Since 1992 up to present, Nvasekie Konneh has written extensively in newspapers in Liberia and the US. His articles and poems have appeared in many newspapers and websites. Nvasekie Konneh currently resides in Lansdowne, Pennsylvania, where he has completed a memoir, The Land of My Father’s Birth, chronicling his experience of growing up in Liberia, his refugee life in Abidjan, Ivory Coast in the early 90s and his nine years of service in the US Navy. He can be reached at KonnLove@aol.com

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