Day 17 - Easter Monday

Monday 25th April

On Easter Monday Freetown is, I'm told, usually heaving. Especially the beach. Today it was not as busy as might be expected, presumably because of the forthcoming 50th anniversary celebrations stealing Easter Monday's thunder.

Typical Easter Monday activities apparently typically involve going to the beach in your fine clothes and wandering photographers will take pictures of you. You then take the photographer's card and order the photos to be sent to you for a charge.

People in Freetown are happy to enjoy Easter Monday regardless of their religion. I don't know what it's like in the more Muslim-oriented provinces.

In fact in general people seem to have a much more liberal attitude to religion in Sierra Leone. Locals state this with pride, and it seems to be true. For example it seem to be fairly common for a Muslim and a Christian to marry.

I think I've had a moderately in-depth conversation with about four people in Sierra Leone about their religion, and each of them has changed between being a Muslim and Christian at least once in their life.

Valid reasons for changing seem to include

• When I was a child I moved in with a family who were Muslim, so I converted.


• It's easier to get a job as a teacher in Freetown if you're Christian, so I converted.


• The mosque was closer to my house than the church, so I converted.

This free and easy willingness to change religion seems to treated here as the natural consequence of a society in which there are no religious tensions. Not like the attitude back home, where I imagine that some would judge this as demonstrating a lack of genuine faith.

Days 14-16 - Trip to River Number 2

Friday 22nd April - Sunday 24th April

For the Easter weekend, Miriam (country director of EducAid) kindly decided to take me as well as some of the EducAid staff and their kids to a beach near Freetown. It's called River number 2.

It is very beautiful, as the pictures will testify when I finally get a chance to upload them and add them to the blog.

The management of the site perhaps doesn't quite exhibit the same level of competence that we might expect from a tourist resort in the developed world though. The rooms that had been booked for us were occupied when we arrived, the toilets in the room had no door on the doorway and not even any kind of covering over the doorway to give the user any privacy. Orders taken for food were often incorrectly handled or misunderstood.

I find it easier to forgive these transgressions when you learn that the outfit is essentially a not-for-profit organisation, since the profits go into a community fund that helps to improve the lives of local people.

But I'm surprised there isn't a thriving tourist industry in Sierra Leone. There has been peace for 10 years now. The beaches are beautiful. I would have expected a European hotel firm to have built a hotel on the beach and to be selling package holidays, whereas in fact this resort consists of only about 10 rooms, and they are largely occupied by development workers and local Lebanese people.

Come to think of it the tourists would have to make it through the money-grabbing airport and the roads that are so potholed that I sometimes see people lifted off their seats because of the bumps. Maybe I'm not so surprised, come to think of it!

But there did used to be a decent tourist industry in Sierra Leone before the war. Brima, the Lumley site manager for EducAid, told me he used to work in a hotel, and I think it was French-owned (certainly European anyway). So there's still hope...

Day 13 - Love and marriage

Thursday 21st April





I walked through the school today and heard, as I often do, the sound of bollywood music blaring out of someone's radio or laptop. Bollywood films are very popular here, for reasons that are not clear to me. Maybe the Lebanese community introduced them?





I have been asked more than once whether I plan to marry an Indian girl. My response that I have no particular bias for or against Indian girls is perpetually met with surprise. "Ah! But Indian girls are all very very beautiful! I want to go to India so I can walk in the streets and see all the beautiful women!" My suggestion that the attractiveness of Indian women may vary from individual to individual is met with flat denials!





Contrary to what the title of this blog post might make you think, the climax of this post won't be the revelation that I have fallen in love with and got married to someone in Sierra Leone! However people I talk to are typically surprised that I've managed to get to the grand old age of 29 without having had any children (and they're not afraid to say it - thanks folks!) Typically a man in Sierra Leone will probably have fathered a couple of kids by the time he reaches his early twenties (not that most people born in the villages know their age).





Also in the provinces it is still common for a man to take multiple wives. The site manager of EducAid Lumley told me that his grandfather had 9 wives. They would all live in one hut which was connected via a corridor to another hut where his grandfather's room was. The wives would get summoned to his room one by one according to a set rotation.




Kumba (Mohamed's girlfriend) told me that men are told they are lazy if they only have one wife. This is particularly true in the military, where it's common for a man to get a wife, and then be posted away for a few months and come back with another wife. Her father had four wives, but apparently there was a pretty good sense of harmony among the siblings and half-siblings who all viewed each other as siblings. Apparently this level of family harmonyh does not always arise.

Day 12 - Wurie and the photocopying project

Wednesday 20th April

Today it happened again that Mohamed was unavailable for part of the day. So during that time I sat down again with Wurie to look at the photocopying project. The thing that most touched me about this project was that Wurie was willing for the proceeds to go the members to fund their tertiary education, which meant that he himself would not get any financial benefit from the project.

Wurie told me his story, and since he told me it's on the EducAid website, I'm sure he won't mind me repeating it here.

He lived near Port Loko with his uncle. (I think he is an orphan) One day Miriam was returning from one of the sites to Freetown and the vehicle broke down. It was getting fixed across the road from Wurie's uncle's house, and that is how Wurie found out about EducAid. At first his cousin was hesitant about going to this school, especially since it would require a significant amount of walking to get to the school. But Wurie persuaded him. Since then Wurie went on to become something of an academic star, as far as I can gather (although Wurie was too modest to tell me this himself)

He got sponsorship to go to university in Freetown, and will soon be taking his final exams. As he spoke I realised that I was speaking to someone who, in many ways, had been transformed by EducAid from a nobody into a somebody. Having a degree in Sierra Leone is no mean feat if you start life as a poor kid in the provinces, and it warmed my heart that his natural response to having received this life-tranforming gift was to want to share it with others.

Day 11 - Secret societies and bodily mutilation

Tuesday 19th April

I thought I would use today's blog post to talk about secret societies, which are a particularly interesting aspect of Sierra Leone's culture.

Females - Bondo
Before coming to Sierra Leone, the only Sierra Leonean secret society I had heard of was Bondo. The Bondo secret society is notorious as the forum through which female genital mutilation (FGM) occurs. My gut reaction has always been to detest FGM. I read about Bondo in a book written by a woman who had been initiated into the Bondo secret society, and said that she underwent FGM, but was still very positive about Bondo. She said that it was an opportunity for her to learn about how to manage a household, how to manage her relationship with her future husband, and provided a sense of sisterhood with those who were initiated with her.

Secret societies for males
The only people I have spoken to about this so far in Sierra Leone have been male.

The process of joining a secret society for males seems to involve the following steps:

(1) Goading
People in the village where you live will have discussed this with you (it is more of a provincial phenomenon, and doesn't happen much in Freetown). These people will include your friends and family. They will probably have goaded you, telling you that you are only half a man, or you're a woman because you are not a member of a society. If you express disapproval to your parents, they are likely to tell you that you are young and don't really understand things yet, but you will appreciate it once you've joined.

(2) Agreement and Payment
You will agree and hand over a payment, which will probably involve just cash, or maybe cash + a she-goat + a chicken + etc (varies by region). Many people I have spoken to suggest that you almost certainly will agree in the end. There seems to be a sense of inevitability about this.

(3) Mutilation
You will get bodily mutilated. One pupil I was talking to told me that he was sitting in his village one day drinking palm wine with his friends. Some men arrived. Some of them had cuts in their arms with blood pouring out, another had a knife sticking out of the back of his neck, another had a knife sticking out of his belly. They took one of his friends away. He then heard his friend screaming. The screams lasted from 2pm to 6pm. He described these as deep howls coming from the core of the man's soul.

Nobody will ever tell you what sort of mutilation happens to these people. Apparently if you find out you will die - I think some secret societies are willing to kill people who find out secrets without being members of the society. Rumour has it that if you give away the secrets then parts of your body will swell up and you will die.

(4) Benefits of membership
Those who aren't members of society tell me that they are fearful of joining, and can't really see any benefits. Those who are members tell me that they get a sense of camaraderie from membership. They learn valuable skills from the society such as how to extract palm oil and how to treat your wife. Also to be successful in politics it is essential to be a member of multiple secret societies. I also gather that if you are already a successful politician or powerful figure, you can get membership with a "reduced-pain" version of the initiation ceremony, although I obviously couldn't get any more details about this (on pain of death!)


Some have told me that you don't really get forced initiations into secret societies. Others (from other parts of the country) tell me that if you say negative things about the secret society, then people will grab you one day and carry you off to perform the initiation on you. They will get the payment from your family. Once a member they can then mockingly invite you to criticise the society which you are now a member of.

Day 10 - Leadership team meeting

Monday 18th April

Yesterday evening Miriam (country director of the EducAid schools) returned from doing some work in the Congo. Today there was a day-long meeting for the leadership teams of the 5 schools of EducAid, which are in different sites in Sierra Leone.

I found out this morning that Miriam would like me to talk in this meeting, so I did so at 11am. We discussed budgeting and financial planning. I proposed changes to the approach which would give more autonomy and financial responsibility to the leadership teams of the schools.

If approved by the trustees, this will be a big step forward for those management teams, and I hope they take on this responsibility effectively.

Day 9 - Walk off the beaten track

Sunday 17th April

When you come out of the driveway for the Educaid building, people always turn right to go onto the main road. Today I went for a little wander to see what happens if I turn left.

Then road curved round and I soon reached what looked like a dead end, but to the left I saw a rocky incline which led down to an open area with some stalls. I stepped gingerly down, carefully placing my feet on safe-looking bits of ground, much as I would when hill-walking. To my right a statuesque man sat on a chair silently in the shade of tree and stared out onto the path I was walking as dogs barked around him.

When I got down I crossed a bridge, walking slowly as a woman came the other way carrying firewood on her head. Beneath the bridge I saw a stream that may have looked quite attractive if it weren't generously framed on either bank with piles of discarded rubbish.

On the other side of the bridge I followed a dirt track. A girl with wild hair who looked about 6 deep-fried sugary cakes made from rice dough. I walked past a tree in whose shade a gaggle of children started chanting when they saw me. I soon worked out that they were chanting "Lebanese! Lebanese!" I read that at some point in the twentieth century, I think after the second world war, a number of Lebanese people came to Sierra Leone for reasons of commerce. I think they are relatively rich, so it would be rare to see them in this part of Freetown, hence the children's excitement. I stopped and talked to them, much to their excitement, and then continued.

A girl walked through the streets gleefully playing with a toy car made from an old sardine tin.

From the bridge onwards, the paths were sloping up a hill, and as I got further up, I increasingly saw dilapidated half-constructed buildings and shacks made of corrugated iron or zinc. I later learned that these buildings high up the hill are often poorly constructed and attract rent as low as Le 10,000 per month (just under GBP1.50) I quite liked the view from high up the hill, but apparently the practical difficulties of getting water and fuel up the steep incline are locally considered to offset any aesthetic benefits of the location! For a living, many of these people get large stones and break them down to a useful size and sell them on for Le 1000 each (c. 15p). They live near the poverty line but were smiling and friendly as I walked through.

As I walked, many people said hello to me. One of them got talking to me and asked if I wanted to come with him to watch the Arsenal game in the nearby "cinema". I declined, but now wonder what else I would have learned if I had joined that man.

Day 8 - Football on the beach

Saturday 16th April

Apologies to those who have persisted with reading my blog posts despite the fact that they are not separated into paragraphs. I have been separating them into paragraphs when I write, but for reason it's not feeding through. Blame the website!

I spent more time with Wurie this morning. We worked on the photocopying project that I mentioned earlier in the blog.

Then we walked down to the beach and played football.

It takes a good half an hour to get there, walking through dusty roads in the mid-day heat. It's also not great for making conversation with the people you're walking with, because for lots of the journey you're walking on dilapidated pavement with big holes in various places. Around you whizzes manic traffic including reckless motorcyclists weaving wildly between vehicles. And when you step on the rivulets of funny-coloured water that wind their way through the streets you had better not think about what's making contact with the underside of your shoe. But I didn't mind all that.

I like the experience of walking through the streets. I like seeing the rows of women sitting on the ground hawking staring fish, irregular tomatoes and withering green things. I like observing the signs on the streets, including the "Good-looking barbing shop" or the sign "No piss yar!" painted on the side of a wall. I like the common sight of two old men playing draughts, perched in front of a giant draughtsboard with a couple of peering people looking over their shoulders. And I've been in Africa enough that I'm no longer uncomfortable when children shout at me "Hello white man" - I even quite like their enthusiasm. I like the vibrant hustle and bustle of the environment.

When I got to the beach, I learned that all Sierra Leoneans seem to be great at football. Everyone from the geekiest of Educaid pupils to your average 6-year old has substantial skills. Football on the beach is a pleasure, with the cool sea air on your bare back and the white sand nestling between your toes. And there's nothing quite like the laughter when you try to tackle someone who's dribbling along and the tide comes up and nudges the ball out of their feet. At the end of the first half my team was winning 5-1. I then swapped sides and the gap narrowed but did not close.

Day 7 - Last day of term - Mohammed is busy

Friday 15th April

Today was the last day of term, so the students finished their final exam and made their perfunctory way back to the provinces. I remember the last day of term as being usually an exciting day when we would largely mess around and have fun when I was at school, but it doesn't seem to be the same culture here.

It was however a very busy time for my finance friend Mohammed who had to work very hard to make sure that he could salaries paid to all the staff. So I only got a couple of brief hours of work in with him, and that wasn't until the evening. It's most diligent of him to be willing to work on a Friday night after a full day's work. I like his work ethic, his propensity to laugh, and his integrity.

He has told me about his life story, and since he said that this is also on the Educaid website, I'm sure he won't mind me repeating it here.

When he was a small child his father couldn't afford to keep him so sent him to stay with a relative. From past experience of this in other parts of the developing world, I understand that this is a common approach to dealing with children when a family has lots of children but not much money. Typically it results in the "adopted" child being treated as something of a lackey.

This was in the 90s during the civil war, and when rebels arrived, you would be wise to be scared. The rebels and the soldiers had a habit of being brutal with people when they invaded a village. So when rebels arrived in Mohammed's village he ran and hid behind a log, and then walked to the nearest town, which I think was Kenema.

He spent some time hanging about on the streets offering to carry goods into vans for Le 100 a go (which is c. 2p at today's exchange rates). One day a driver got to like him (he was still a young child then) and took him to Freetown. When he got to Freetown he lost track of the driver and so ended up hanging about in the market during the day and then sleeping on the tables of the market at night. This went on for some time.

Then he joined a primary school for war-affected children. Most of the pupils were former child soldiers and violence was second nature to them. Guns were often smuggled into school. He learned to cope in this environment. I find this hard imagine now because he's such a gentle-natured soul, but he must have become tough - when the West Side Boys invaded Freetown lots of the pupils in the school rushed to join them, and they wanted Mohammed to join them because they thought he would be an asset. Mohammed wisely chose to hide from them and finished his primary schooling.

He then wrote lots of letters requesting sponsorship for his secondary schooling, but it looked like nothing would come of it so he got ready to become an apprentice to a mechanic. Then one day Miriam arrived. She's the country director for Educaid. Mohammed was a bit scared because he had never seen a white person before and thought she might be a spirit called a jinna which he had heard talk of in the villages. Luckily she was a human being who enabled him to get schooling.

He went on to join Fourah Bay College, which before the war was the most widely respected university in West Africa and had links to Durham University. He was also one of the 20% of the people in his year who did not fail his degree.

Today he still occasionally sees people he knew from before his time in Freetown. When they learn that he is graduate, they are impressed. Having a degree isn't as commonplace here as it is in the UK, so it's really meaningful. Mohammed speaks with humility, but I'm sure I can see pride behind his self-deprecating laughter.

Day 6 - Cook on strike!

Thursday 14th April

This morning I was unable to meet with Mohammed until 1030, unlike the usual 930. The reason for this was that a number of the school's management team was in extended talks with the cook, who had not been preparing food for some days. She was upset for reasons that weren't clear to me, but may have been valid for all I know. The situation was complicated by the fact that she is the sister of the late husband of Miriam, the country director, and the school is on land that is owned by her. The management team nonetheless boldly chose to clarify for her that the pupils are the school's customers, and if they're not happy with the food they're receiving, then this has to be heeded.

For the last few days, all they had had was gari, which is made by grating cassava, and then putting it in a bag and squeezing it until all the water comes out. This can then be mixed with spices, onions and fish (or whatever else). I tried it and quite liked it, although I recognise that a diet consisting of nothing else for several days would be lacking in variety. I assume the reason for only eating gari all this time was that it keeps well.

When not eating gari, the usual staple in Sierra Leone is rice, which grows in the highlands. I understand that there's quite a lot of inefficiency in the way that agriculture is done in Sierra Leone. There is apparently little mechanisation, and the situation is exacerbated by a complicated land tenure system. The result is that Sierra Leone still has to import rice. So many of my meals are rice and beans or rice and potato leaf or cassava leaf "soup" (curry would probably be a more appropriate word in UK English)

After a couple of hours talking with the cook, the school's management team was successful and the cook was willing to provide food for the pupils once again.

Day 5 - Haircut

Wed 13th April

Last night I went to a "cinema" to watch the Manchester Chelsea game. They say cinema, but it's actually more like a TV in a room where drinks are sold. It cost Le 1000 (c. 15p) to get in, and when I asked to buy 4 non-alcoholic drinks, their fridge was not well-stocked enough to accommodate this request. Not to my surprise, I found that everyone in Sierra Leone supported a UK football team. When I asked which team I support, I thought it would be easier to give an answer rather than say that I don't follow it much. So I espoused Cambridge Utd. This seemed odd to the people I spoke to, for whom saying who you support was synonymous was stating who you thought would win (clearly not true for Cambridge Utd!)

This morning I attended the briefing as usual. In the briefing, Brima read out a letter sent by group A to the staff. In the letter they apologised for a misdemeanour. They had gone to an exam to find that the exam board had made a mistake and sent their exam papers to the wrong venue. Instead of contacting their teachers about this, they phoned their friends who proceeded not to come to the following exams. I found the language used interesting. The pupils described themselves as full of regret, and said that they "know you [the teachers] really love us" and "hope you can forgive us". I struggle to imagine such a letter being written at a school back in the UK.

In the morning I spent more time with Wurie talking through the photocopying project that he's taking the lead on. I'd like to kick the tyres on the assumptions a bit more, because it looks at the moment like the business can get a real return on capital of 8%ish in year 1, growing to 30% in year 3, all on quite prudent assumptions. Admittedly the assumptions include nothing for staff costs - the students will simply share the profits like shareholders. They have not yet decided how the profit will be distributed, since the business is still just being founded, but it looks like it will go into a fund that will finance university places for the participants.

In the afternoon Mohammed was still not yet ready to spend time with me because he had data inputting to do. So I went to get my hair cut. Or, to use the local lingo, I had it "barbed". I asked the barber to recommend a hairstyle for me, partly out of a sense of adventure, and partly because I wanted to make sure that he wasn't attempting something he couldn't do! He said he would give me a Fugees style haircut. I agreed to this, little realising that the hair would come out uneven, asymmetrical, and so short you can see my scalp! Many of the kids back at the school were very pleased with my haircut however, saying things like "Wow! You are really in Africa now!"

Day 4 - Typical day

In this blog post I will describe the structure of a typical day.

I have no need of an alarm clock here. I get woken every morning at some time between 6am and 7am by the clatter from the classrooms downstairs. The pupils sleep in their classrooms, so each morning I hear them rearranging the room to change from a dorm back into a classroom.

I crawl out from under my mosquito net and do my ablutions, which includes getting a shower under the cold flow of water in my ensuite bathroom. I will have got dressed, grabbed a snack and taken my malaria tablet in time to be on the second floor by 750. In the classroom/dorm/meeting room/exam hall on the second floor there is a daily briefing which finishes at 830. Mohammed will typically have some tasks to do until 930, during which time I write this blog.

From 930 until about 5 I will spend some time with Mohammed and any other students who are interested in accounting. At some point in the day some food will probably arrive, either provided by the school or some people will have put together a kitty and sent someone out to buy something.

In Sierra Leone, people eat very quickly. Someone told me that's because in the war you had to eat quickly before the rebels arrive - I think that was a joke though! It's probably more to do with the fact that the food will be in one small tub or dish and everyone shares the same plate. So you have to eat quickly to make sure you get your fair share. People also don't generally talk while they eat. This is partly to focus on the important task of eating, but also because parents tell their children that if you talk while you eat the food will go to your head (whatever that means)

Day 3 - First day of work

Monday 11th April

Today I sat down with Mohammed (the finance worker for the school) to start work. He was joined by a group of keen students - mostly ex-Educaid pupils who were now studying finance or accounting at college and who could feature in Mohammed's succession planning or share his work. The location for our work was the library, which is a pleasant environment.

Mohammed asked me whether I would prefer to work in the library because I might find his office an unpleasant environment because it's dark, hot and close to the toilets. Then I found out that this was also his room! When I asked him how he felt about living in this environment, he just laughed. In his general attitude and dedication to his work I see something that I've seen among many people at Educaid and among the finest of the charities that I've been involved with: love for the organisation. I hope I can do them justice.

The first day seems to have gone well. When I talk to them about financial management, I continually ask probing questions to see whether they are understanding what I am saying and whether they are able to come up with applications and practical examples to illustrate the points I am making. They are refreshingly good at engaging with these discussions, and my hunch is that their keen minds have been prepared with a fine Educaid education.

Day 2 - Trip to the provinces

Sun 10th April

I accompanied Mohammed, Brima and Moses on a trip around the schools outside of Freetown. The day consisted largely of long minibus journeys from one school to the next. Most of the other people in the van were trainee teachers on the way to a 2-week training course. Some were fresh out of school (at Educaid) and others were older.

These journeys were great for having interesting conversations with people covering topics such as secret societies in Sierra Leone, initiations, the Sierra Leonean attitude to pain and religion and religous tolerance.

Before I left for Sierra Leone, my Mum told me in no uncertain terms that I was definitely allergic to all animals, and hence should stay away from them. Being a cruel son who likes to torment his poor mother, I will now list out some of the animals who shared the van journey with me at various points.

• At one point some fish were thrown into the van. Fortunately these were dead! Even more fortunately, my sense of smell was not very good. Apparently the type of fish is called Meena. When I upload the picture I took of one of the fish, I plan to send it to my Aunt Meena!





• One of the kids in one of the schools had a pet monkey and brought it with him in the van. It was very affectionate and clung to its owner lovingly.



• At one point on the way back I heard Moses calling something out. At first I thought he was saying "Bushfall! Bushfall!". I now realise they were saying bushfowl instead. When the car stopped, Moses ran back and picked up a chicken and brought it back into the van. It even laid an egg before we got home!

Readers including my mother will be reassured to learn that there were no ill consequences of this exposure.

Day 1 - Settling In

Sat 9th April

As I was shown to my room this morning I observed something I've observed before in Africa. Through the window with no glass I found myself sharing the sights sounds and smells of the neighbourhood with the whole community around me. In particular, this meant that when I tried to get to sleep at 7am, there was lots of noise! Fortunately I was exhausted and that didn't matter.

In the afternoon Mohammed and Brima took me to get money changed and buy some goods.

Although I was only changing USD200, I received a massive pile of notes back, none of which had a denomination higher than Le 10,000 (between £1 and £2) I keep my cash in (what should be) a discreet money belt under my trousers to reduce the risk of theft. However this is now characterised by an unsightly banknote-shaped bulge in my trousers. Readers of this blog will be pleased to hear that I have not taken a photo of the bulge in my trousers (!). But here's a picture of the 2 US banknotes and pile of cash that constitutes the equivalent sum of money in Leones. And I've also included a picture of Brima handling another load of banknotes that needed to transported around the provinces.

I asked Brima and Mohammed whether the small denominations caused any problems. Apparently it is common to pay for large transactions (e.g. a house purchase) with cash. This may cost something like Le 30 million, so imagine paying for something by handing over 3000 banknotes!

Day 0 - The journey

Fri 8th April

Some things I liked about my journey from London to Freetown:

• I liked the cosy familiarity of the airport at Casablanca, an airport I remember as a stopover from past travels. (It became less cosy when I realised that the inescapable airport seemed to consist of the pan-pipe equivalent of the same 3 songs on repeat for 6 hours!)
• I liked observing the cultural differences starting to seep through before I'd even arrived on African soil. In the plane from Casablanca to Freetown I was standing in a long queue for the toilet. The queue was long because one of the toilets was not available (I assume broken) When we were told that the other one was also unavailable, the responses from the queue exhibited none of the power politics or mind games that I might have seen back home. Nobody took the lady's name, asked to see her manager, or threatened to mention her in a letter of complaint to the airline. Nobody invoked the Human Rights Act or any other relevant item of legislation. Instead the response consisted of a bunch of large African women standing around a very quiet me and being gloriously direct: "Wat is dis?!" "Let me go toilet!" "We want wee-wee!"

Some things I didn't like about the journey from London to Freetown

• Everyone was trying to extract money from me when I got off the plane. For example, the water taxi from the airport to Freetown costs USD40. Despite acknowledging this, the man I spoke with refused to give me change from USD50. And as for the other staff working for the water taxi, the only way I managed to avoid their persistent requests for more money was to smile blankly at them and respond in French until they stopped asking. Even worse, I was talking to a man in crutches who was telling me he was a war victim and asking for money. He was quite open about the fact that he came close to me because I was not black and hence likely to have money. When I asked him if he simply saw money whenever he saw a white person, he said yes. I am SO glad I'm volunteering in Sierra Leone. This means I'll be working alongside and hence building real relationships with local people, rather than second-guessing their motives.
• I didn't like the fact that poor Brima, Mohammed and Moses had to wait from 3am to 6am because of all the delays in my travels. But I was pleased that they were warm and welcoming nonetheless.

Pre-departure blog post

On Fri 8th April 2011 I will fly to Freetown to do a project via AfID supporting the financial management of a secondary school in Sierra Leone. More info can be found at http://www.afid.org.uk/partners/educaid. I'll be in Freetown until Tuesday 3rd May. I'm hoping to update this blog regularly, since I understand there is internet access at the school. Wish me luck!