The Perfect Storm

There are spectacular storms here in Liberia. One minute, you are out walking in the streets, shielding your eyes from the sun. The next minute, a loud clap of thunder, and the rain comes pouring down. There is no escape - even with big umbrellas and raincoats, you are bound to get wet. Since the roads in Liberia are littered with potholes, pedestrians have to start hopping from one island of concrete to another, as the rain comes down and potholes start to turn into mini lakes.

In the United Kingdom where I have lived for years, the sound of drizzling rain outside my bedroom window acts as a comforting lullaby. In Liberia, I am often woken up in the middle of the night by the drama of rain, lightning, thunder and wind outside. Maybe it is in my imagination, but once or twice, I have even felt the whole apartment shudder in the middle of the storm.

When the storm has passed and morning starts to dawn, I sometimes get out onto the balcony of our apartment to survey the surrounding neighbourhood. There is a pleasant freshness in the air and one can smell the earth and vegetation all around. Further out in the distance amongst the fields are clusters of small huts. During a walk around the neighbourhood one afternoon, I had seen that many of the huts were constructed of simple materials, some have thatched roofs, others have rusty tin roofs. The whole family often sat outside of the hut – since space is limited and there is little or no access to electricity, the interior of the hut is often shrouded in darkness on a cloudy day. Given that we live in a concrete building and are still affected by the dramatic weather, I can’t help but wonder how those huts and the families living in them survive the storms here in Liberia.

There is rumble of thunder in the distance. Another one of those perfect storms is drawing near.