Mothers are Always Right

I arrived safely in the beautiful city of Monrovia, the capital of the once war ravaged Liberia. Yes the Liberia you heard because of the ills of Doe, Charles Taylor, General Mosquito (Sierra Leone) and Forday Sankor also of Sierra Leone.

My contact Orlind Cooper came to fetch me from the Roberts International Airport. It was dawn and I could hardly see as we drove the 45 minutes drive into the city centre. But I could feel the fresh air (after you leave the airport – it smells because of the rubber factory nearby. Don’t get stressed when the smell hits you after you get off the plane.) as Orlind pushed the car through the sweetness of the dawn. I know I was in a good place, it was raining season – it also signalled reduced productivity because of bad roads, a culture where people are forced to stay at home to wait out the rain. But for me, that is all ok. I know I will be cool, I will see trees (natural looking ones), some hills, animals, fresh fruits and home breed livestock.

Oh by the way, there is NO LONGER WAR in Monrovia or Sierra Leone! No one is wielding machine guns around, no gun shots, neither are children tooting guns in your face!

Well, so back to why  mothers are always right: Saturday around lunch time as I wait to head to the airport, my mother in-law came to ask what I wanted for lunch. I thought I would have some last bite Dutch sandwich; so I requested for some bread, Surinam egg salad and some juice. After 20 minutes, she returned with 2 bottles of water, a medium size Surinam egg salad and some chocolate drinks. But wait, they were not for my lunch, she wanted me to take them in my hand luggage!

Street view of Monrovia

My wife and I laughed and said, I was not allowed to carry those with me on the flight unless I had them in my other luggage. Well, mother in-law Clara insisted so I wrapped the egg salad in multiple plastic to prevent spillage and then together with the water, added them to my luggage.

Fast forward Sunday morning. After I arrived at the shot term rental house, I realised that much was not arranged and since gas, cooker and the petty luxuries of a kitchen were absent, including tap water; I was grateful for the shopping Mum did for me.

I unpacked and then got out the egg salad, some crackers, one bottle of water and in the cool morning weather, I sat in the corridor and ate my breakfast. Then I thought to myself, “mothers always know best!”

My first few hours were enjoyable because of the instincts of Mum Clara. I had my fill, enjoyed the cool, yet warm morning and went to take a rest. I slept easy, thinking of the good women in my life – my biological mum, my mother in-law, my sister and sister in-laws and my beautiful wife.

I think I concluded that, “women know best”.

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