Phil is in Liberia documenting the work of Foundation for Women (FFW), an organization that strives to continually support and encourage impoverished women, both globally and locally, by funding and creating microcredit programs. A longtime supporter of Phil and his work, Kevin Castner is traveling with him and reporting back to us from the field.

“What God has joined together let no man put assunder.”  I photographed this on a poster in a Sinkor living room.  Mama Liberia is very religious but the misspelling of the final word, coupled with ‘man’ earlier, also gives an unintended history lesson.  Tribalism and greed, fueled by power and testosterone did indeed bring this country ass-under.  Now, it is clawing its way back, a few rock piles and charcoal sacks at a time.

'Let no man put assunder' Poster

We hit a great trifecta when finishing the our last of our interviews while documenting the work of FFW.  First up was Monica Flanjay, the center chief for both Fanta Town Matadi and New Matadi.  She takes us into her home, down a hallway, and we sit, surprisingly, on part of an old, solid oak furniture set.  There is history in this house.  It has painted walls with pictures.  There are lace curtains shading the light coming through the barred windows, and a TV in a corner.  There are real windows, and the rooms have doors.  Of course, another part of its history also shows.  The electrical sockets are empty and the home is dark; the only light is natural.  There is a landline telephone, the only one I have ever seen in a private home.  I ask Monica if it works and she gives me the answer I’ve heard from many Liberians on similar topics, “Before the war……”.  Monica used her first loan to buy cold water.  Now, in the rainy season she sells charcoal.  She takes us to her warehouse, tells us she buys 200-300 bags at a time.  Her success means she only sells wholesale, doesn’t have to break big bags into little bags.  She’s moving up market.

Monica Flanjay's Charcoal Warehouse

After our talk we thread our way through her neighborhood, which she estimates at 15,000 people or so, and I reflect on the speed of my changing perceptions.  Three weeks ago I might have been put off by the dirt, or lack of light, or the rundown furniture and shabby, many times repaired, faded cushions.  But after the squalor of West Point the ‘grinding poverty’ I described so long ago when I first arrived now seems middle class, and Monica’s home a veritable oasis.  As I am reminded again and again, everything is relative.

At New Matadi we sit down with Angeline Reeves.  She was introduced to Foundation For Women by Korpo Zayzay, the center manager for Fanta Town (together the ‘Matadi’s’ have 45 women in the program).  Angeline has been in the FFW program for over a year and she describes exactly what she’s done with her loans.  She used her first, 6,000 Liberian Dollar (LB) loan to buy dried fish and sell them around her neighborhood.  She paid that off and borrowed 9,000LB and got into the timber (‘plank’) business with her fiancé, who lives in the bush.  She paid off that loan and borrowed 12,000LB (about $170USD) which she has used to buy inventory to stock a storefront selling fabrics on the local high road.  Angeline is a serial entrepreneur.

Angeline Reeve's 'High Street' Fabric Shop

Next, we drive to Wroto Town.  I’ve been here before and it is nice to meet Felicia Shipper again, the center leader.  She is bright and articulate, humorous and out-going.  She is such a natural leader, in fact, I wonder what she could have done if she had had other opportunities.

Phil Interviewing Felicia Shipper

All three of these women have used their FFW loans to improve their lives, the lives of their families, their communities, and send all their respective children to school.  At least two of them are going or planning to go to University themselves and get degrees.  The FFW loans have done far more than just help these women feed their families.  The loans have given them self-confidence and helped them to dream (their word) of a better future they can help themselves and their country achieve.  These women have every right to be proud.

Next read about the video WTYSL and Phil Borges produced with the FFW Young Women Leaders as Kevin reports on wrapping up their time documenting FFW!

Phil is in Liberia documenting the work of Foundation for Women (FFW), an organization that strives to continually support and encourage impoverished women, both globally and locally, by funding and creating microcredit programs. A longtime supporter of Phil and his work, Kevin Castner is traveling with him and reporting back to us from the field.

“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world.  Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”  Anthropologist Margaret Mead

We’re on our way to Rock Crushers.  I thought that this was the name of an area, like ’72’, but as it turns out it is simply a descriptor.  The group FFW supports here, crush rock.  When we arrive I am looking at a dirt path that winds up a hillside.  On either side of the path are piles and piles of rock – big piles and little piles.  Sitting in/on/next to these piles are individuals of all ages, boys of 6 or more and middle aged women, hammering rocks until they are small enough to be gathered into big piles.  In the meantime the constant cacophony is not unlike a drumbeat or background theme music.  None of the rock breakers have any kind of safety glasses.

Rock Crushers

The mood here is very upbeat.  The actual rock pounders are diligent, but they talk with each other, with people walking by, flashing smiles.  How can they be happy?  I reflect that most are young, or just old enough to remember the wars.  What I might think of as primitive and sad is already a big step forward.  And for the kids this is work, but also a playground.  They don’t know any ‘better’.  Kids are survivors; they deal with what is in front of them.

Marion Shows Me How Much a Pile of Rock is Worth

As always, we are met by gospel music and then introduced to the two leaders of this group, Josephine Jeffrey and Marion Wendyue.  Marion says she and her kids are doing this, now, so that they won’t always have to do this.  She takes me to a big pile of rock and says it is worth 5,000 Liberian dollars.  Wow, all this rock, all this human effort, has a ‘street’ value of $70.  And that is enough to turn a profit.  At the end of Josephine’s interview Phil tells her how much respect he has for her and how impressed he is by what she has accomplished (a business with 25 women having loans and 30 more wanting to join and all 5 of her children in school) and asks her if she is proud.  Josephine is a beautiful woman and her eyes flash as she says, almost defiantly, ‘I AM proud’.  She has every right to be.

Of course, before the war there was equipment to do this job.  They blasted the rock from the quarry off to our left (which was also an open pit diamond mine) and did this in a more industrial way.  But that equipment is long gone, and hammers and backs are now the only way to do this work.  Some of the rock is right here in the earth next to where we are working, but some of it has to be transported from up and beyond the quarry.  Men and women go up there, 15 minutes away or more, and carry, on their heads, big rocks closer to where we are.  At stages they get smaller, and then smaller again.  But still big.  The end rocks are irregular, of course, but about 1 1/2 – 2” long. The whole enterprise is, by its nature, horribly inefficient and dangerous.

Women Carrying Rocks

Now there is a big commotion from down near where we’re parked, and a large dump truck is pulling in.  Almost instantly everyone is in motion, and a conga line forms to one side and a form of pure capitalism takes place.  Every ‘rock crusher’ from young to old has one or two plastic trays on their head between 5-15 pounds.  The single file line moves as fast as the young men who came with it can upload the rock.  The first person in line moves to a young man who stands with his back to the truck.  He and the other men in the back of the truck are naked from the waist up and they glisten in the sun.  The young man standing on the ground lifts the plastic trays off the head of the first person in line and military presses it straight up the side of the truck where it is grabbed, dumped and tossed back down.  The offloaded person turns left and gets paid right then and there, usually 35 Liberian dollars or so, by a large woman carrying a huge wad of money.  I hear she has the equivalent of about 1,000 USD and she doesn’t quite end up filling the truck.  Another truck will come for rock before we leave and we are told they come every day.

Loading Rocks Into the Dump Truck

I start to think…how could this ‘industry’ be incrementally more efficient, a little less dangerous?  Wheelbarrows, an obvious small step, come to mind.  I think I’ve seen one or two, but everything else is as primitive as possible.  I don’t know what a wheelbarrow costs here, and something says I should check this out before going any further.  So, I wander over to Charles and ask him if buying a wheelbarrow is a good idea and if so, if I could buy one.

He says yes, but soon I learn that there is much more to consider when donating to communities in the developing world.  Rock Crushers – Part 2 is up next!

Phil is in Liberia documenting the work of Foundation for Women (FFW), an organization that strives to continually support and encourage impoverished women, both globally and locally, by funding and creating microcredit programs. A longtime supporter of Phil and his work, Kevin Castner is traveling with him and reporting back to us from the field. They are also, along with the WTYSL team, helping young women leaders attending a “Women’s Leadership Conference” put on by FFW make a movie for their community.

All the days are big now, if we are going to pull this film together on time.  We need a narrator and a narration track, and Phil needs to find time, with Alicia and Sebastian and Philippa, to order and splice the various one on one interviews we did with the girls, integrate the ‘B’ roll, ‘hero’ interviews (not to mention we still need to actually do those latter interviews), weave in the visits we made to various Foundation For Women centers…and on and on.

Typical house in the Barrole Burial Ground Neighborhood

We jump in vans to go to Barrole Burial Ground.  The meeting is held in a simple clearing surrounded by their homes.  Dirt, cinder blocks, corrugated iron roofs (and windows) are the norm here as elsewhere.  No electricity (unless it’s by generator) or indoor plumbing.  I’ve been inside a few houses and they are dark in the middle of the day.  I haven’t seen a real window; what they use to fill the spaces is tied into place.  And yet, when you look at a house long enough, a beautiful woman often comes out.  That pride, and their evident optimism for the future shine through the squalor.  FFW gives them the resources to help themselves to reach that future faster.

Welcoming Committee at Barrole Burial Ground

Emily Peal addresses the women, reminding them, as she and Deborah Lindholm have told me many times, “We are not just here for the money; also to help you change your life.”  Emily always has them clap for themselves, for what they are doing.  Deborah, Ann Lovell, and Barbara Stinson all say something.  The ever present noise of babies crying and an enthusiastic rooster plays in the background.  Emily has another way to get attention and build affection.  She’ll say, “Hello-o!?”, which is always met by “Hi-i!” from her audience.  At moments like these it is easy to see a good deal of the reason that FFW works – it is the bond she has with her borrowers.  Which also might explain why efforts by non-Liberian NGO’s are very often unsuccessful.  Charles Naiwah, FFW’s program director, tells the women “When things get hard, you get hard!”.  It’s always hard here.

Ann Lovell, Emily Peal, Barbara Stinson and Charles Naiwah at Barrole Burial Ground

Next we’re off to Wroto Town.  I ask Charles what these women do.  He lists pretty much everything:  charcoal selling, hair braiding/plaiting, small restaurants and, generally the service industry.  We get to the meeting and it’s much the same as before.  Charles says, “Every time we come here we see women working hard.”  Wroto Town has 45 women in the FFW program.  I hear another often repeated mantra:  Charles says, “Women, don’t just sit there.” and they lustily reply, “Do something positive with the men!”  Their futures really do lie, heavily, on their colorful shoulders.

Charles Addressing a Rapt Audience at Wroto Town

These speeches and homilies may sound preachy to western ears, but the women at every center love them.  The encouragement FFW, and especially ‘Mommy’ Peal, gives them buoys each time.  Deborah and Ann talk the talk, but they have also proven to these women, over many years, that they walk the walk as well.  They have not written a check and gone back to cushy lives never to return, but rather have come back over and over to help.

Ann Lovell brings 6 or more suitcases with her to Liberia.  She distributes pencils and pens here, and helps supply many other centers as well as stocking FFW HQ.  She says, “I keep coming back.  I see your work.  I see you raise yourself up and I am so proud of you.”

Back at FFW HQ, we spend the rest of the day brainstorming on the narration track.  We had several options for whom to choose as narrator, but Martha Daniels spoke up and just said, “I’ll do it.”  She is the oldest of the team, has had one of the hardest roads, and is our first college graduate.  Speaking up shows leadership.  Now Martha is furiously taking notes.

Up next – the girls interview the women they admire most.  One more movie production task to cross off the list!