By Alpha B. Kamara
The campaign for women to participate in Governance is reaching an unprecedented rate as women and civil society are demanding for proactive measures to ensure women are protected and made useful in all sectors in decision making.
“Women have been lagging behind for so long. Now is the time to change their position to one that will benefit the country,” said Fatmata Koroma, a cookery seller in Wellington..
She said not withstanding the stigma of being women in Sierra Leone most of them are the heads of their families and continue to upkeep their homes despite there are husbands around. She said they are still being viewed as inferiors to men and not useful in community discussions.
“Imagine, in my village we are like aliens when the male society is playing. We are forced to stay indoors until all ceremonies are done with,” she said, but added that when the women’s play is on course the men will often join in, to show that they have power over women.
“They are talking about women’s right-women’s right, all the time. I heard it on the radio and school children coming to buy rice to me, but do they ever go down to the provinces? I wonder if many of the people talking about these rights have visited the provinces when the men’s society is on play. If they have indeed gone their, they will know what I mean,” she said.
Koroma said there are many women in the provinces that have no access to information to their rights and that what they know is they must subdue themselves to the elders and husbands,” she lamented.
Map of Sierra leone
Map of Sierra Leone
Freetown Cotton Tree
The history of Sierra Leone is incomplete without the Freetown Cotton Tree
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Monday, November 24, 2008
Share love
By Alpha Bedoh Kamara
The greatest foe to mankind
thrives in our souls,
With fatal burdens
weighing heavier on us
The colours of others we see
their language we noticed
their prayers we monitor
their clothing and food we despise
Yet we continue to hibernate
within our bizarre opinions,
with bitter perceptions
of others roles in society
Though knowing we
as a people of the world
have an obligation to respect
the taste of others – and love
The greatest foe to mankind
thrives in our souls,
With fatal burdens
weighing heavier on us
The colours of others we see
their language we noticed
their prayers we monitor
their clothing and food we despise
Yet we continue to hibernate
within our bizarre opinions,
with bitter perceptions
of others roles in society
Though knowing we
as a people of the world
have an obligation to respect
the taste of others – and love
She dies
By Alpha Bedoh Kamara
The drums wailed in the night
Unable to resist the beating sticks
And the crowd clapped and danced
Hypnotized by the hot rhythms
Of the weeping drums
The celebration consumed the night
As the drums rumbled in the dark
Hypnotizing the shadows that faded out
To the shuffle and scurry
Of dancing merry souls
She was so beautiful
Others say, more gracious than a fairy
When taken into the dark
Accompanied by the rumble
Of weeping drums
The beat was the same
As it has always been
And they danced to its wailing
As she was taken to learn
To love, and be loved
For it was her day
Her passage to maidenhood
Young girls, maiden and women
Arrayed in the rumbling dark
Danced to the weeping drums
But the drums suddenly stopped
The rumble disappeared with the shadows
The elders amongst themselves worried
Of what cause the drums to stop
From talking to the ancestors
From afar, came a crier’s roar
Unthinking of in such a day
When palm wine pots flooded the village
And the elderly swam in merry
That the crier broke the calabash
The young men ran into their rooms
The elderly snailed into theirs
Leaving behind their wives to tend the news
For in the rumbling dark
The life of her was gone.
The drums wailed in the night
Unable to resist the beating sticks
And the crowd clapped and danced
Hypnotized by the hot rhythms
Of the weeping drums
The celebration consumed the night
As the drums rumbled in the dark
Hypnotizing the shadows that faded out
To the shuffle and scurry
Of dancing merry souls
She was so beautiful
Others say, more gracious than a fairy
When taken into the dark
Accompanied by the rumble
Of weeping drums
The beat was the same
As it has always been
And they danced to its wailing
As she was taken to learn
To love, and be loved
For it was her day
Her passage to maidenhood
Young girls, maiden and women
Arrayed in the rumbling dark
Danced to the weeping drums
But the drums suddenly stopped
The rumble disappeared with the shadows
The elders amongst themselves worried
Of what cause the drums to stop
From talking to the ancestors
From afar, came a crier’s roar
Unthinking of in such a day
When palm wine pots flooded the village
And the elderly swam in merry
That the crier broke the calabash
The young men ran into their rooms
The elderly snailed into theirs
Leaving behind their wives to tend the news
For in the rumbling dark
The life of her was gone.
The murder of Marie Thula 1
By Alpha B. Kamara
The village square at Malal Village is in crisis. Groups of young men, women and the elderly have converged at the village square, bemused of the horrible incident that has happened in their community, squabbled among themselves as to the nature of the incident, who committed the abominable deed and for what purpose.
The women conversed in whispers, afraid to face the wrath of angry and frustrated men, while the elders and young men walked a distance away from the women and children, to find solutions to the tragedy that has befallen them.
“We must find ways to know who committed this abominable deed,” Sorie Thula, the brother of the deceased demanded.
“The body of my sister will not rot without avenge. I call upon you elders and brothers to fight her fight; avenge her death!”
Marie Thula was 15 years old; daughter of Pa Kaprr Thula and Yeabu Tholie, both deceased. She was adopted by her uncle, the younger brother of her mother, Musa Tholie, and raised among his three children, Adama, yeanoh and Kai.
She was seen by a trader who was passing by, as the dismembered body lie on the road path leading to the village in the evening hours.
“The body of my sister will not rot without avenge,” Sorie continued, looking into the eyes of the others.
“This is a matter we should investigate to know who killed her,” one of the elders cautioned, “We know how you feel, but we must be cautions.”
Three days after the burial of the deceased, the elders met at the court barray and raised the issue with the section chief, Pa Lemamy Kumah, for a sorcerer to be summoned to find the killers or killer of Marie Thula.
It was agreed that Sese Gbema, the great sorcerer of Mayimbi, a village few miles from Malal, be summoned. The section chief then ordered his messenger that he (Sese Gbema ) be informed that Malal is in tears and needed his help, that the elders of Malal have agreed to seek his service to save them from a curse.
It was on Sunday, in the afternoon, when most of the boys were playing at the village square, the women and girls tending to daily house work, and the elders and men discussing at the court barray, when the strangely dressed man in red and black clothing, alligator-leathered bag strapped on his shoulders, with beads of cowries and small bells ringing from continuous dangling, dashed from the road path the body of the girl was murdered and ran straight into the village square.
The panic stricken boys ran into their houses, others stood agape, hypnotized by the strange looking man, who was accompanied by two other men dressed in similar attire.
The whole village erupted into disarray, as the women and girls also left their chores and ran indoors. The strange men stood for few minutes at the center of the village, sniffing and gnawing like angry dogs, and suddenly dashed toward the court barray, where the section chief and elders awaits them.
The village square at Malal Village is in crisis. Groups of young men, women and the elderly have converged at the village square, bemused of the horrible incident that has happened in their community, squabbled among themselves as to the nature of the incident, who committed the abominable deed and for what purpose.
The women conversed in whispers, afraid to face the wrath of angry and frustrated men, while the elders and young men walked a distance away from the women and children, to find solutions to the tragedy that has befallen them.
“We must find ways to know who committed this abominable deed,” Sorie Thula, the brother of the deceased demanded.
“The body of my sister will not rot without avenge. I call upon you elders and brothers to fight her fight; avenge her death!”
Marie Thula was 15 years old; daughter of Pa Kaprr Thula and Yeabu Tholie, both deceased. She was adopted by her uncle, the younger brother of her mother, Musa Tholie, and raised among his three children, Adama, yeanoh and Kai.
She was seen by a trader who was passing by, as the dismembered body lie on the road path leading to the village in the evening hours.
“The body of my sister will not rot without avenge,” Sorie continued, looking into the eyes of the others.
“This is a matter we should investigate to know who killed her,” one of the elders cautioned, “We know how you feel, but we must be cautions.”
Three days after the burial of the deceased, the elders met at the court barray and raised the issue with the section chief, Pa Lemamy Kumah, for a sorcerer to be summoned to find the killers or killer of Marie Thula.
It was agreed that Sese Gbema, the great sorcerer of Mayimbi, a village few miles from Malal, be summoned. The section chief then ordered his messenger that he (Sese Gbema ) be informed that Malal is in tears and needed his help, that the elders of Malal have agreed to seek his service to save them from a curse.
It was on Sunday, in the afternoon, when most of the boys were playing at the village square, the women and girls tending to daily house work, and the elders and men discussing at the court barray, when the strangely dressed man in red and black clothing, alligator-leathered bag strapped on his shoulders, with beads of cowries and small bells ringing from continuous dangling, dashed from the road path the body of the girl was murdered and ran straight into the village square.
The panic stricken boys ran into their houses, others stood agape, hypnotized by the strange looking man, who was accompanied by two other men dressed in similar attire.
The whole village erupted into disarray, as the women and girls also left their chores and ran indoors. The strange men stood for few minutes at the center of the village, sniffing and gnawing like angry dogs, and suddenly dashed toward the court barray, where the section chief and elders awaits them.
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