There is a large billboard in Monrovia showing a sprouted stalk of rice which reads, "Rice is Life." During a recent conversation with a local man who has seen his share of misery in this world, this man said, "Rice for us was also death, this war began and ended because of rice."
What a perfect beginning of a book, I thought. This man's statement will not leave my memory for a long time. How true it rang to the events that took place here, the rice riots sent the country into a tailspin and the end of the war or more exactly, wars, prominently figured rice once again as it was no longer a source of profit for the infamous Charles Taylor who made his millions by imposing private taxes on imports of this staple food.
The country stands now, battered and broken, its social fabric ripped apart, yet it is recovering slowly, as if it was a rice stalk trampled upon by army boots. The rain comes and the rice stalk comes to life.
The book of predictions says "We will know less and less what it means to be human." One look at the world confirms this prophecy. Yet regardless of where I go in the world I meet human beings who prove that the most grotesque inhumanity will never triumph over true kindness.