By Winston Forde
Dedication
A Very Happy 63rd Independence Celebration in 2024. Hoping the years to come will prove to be more progressive, and full of Great achievements.
Preface
Sierra Leone was granted her Independence from Westminster on 26th April 1961, some sixty-two years ago. It’s relatively short journey as a nation under self-rule, so far, has been eventful with some unpalatable memories. The transition from Colonial Rule to running our own affairs, first as an independent Commonwealth Country then as a Republic, started on the usual note of optimistic nationalism, but reality soon defined our fortunes. Political sensitivities, and economic pressures soon contributed to a significant brain drain as certain minority groups who were ill at ease with the changes in influence, and power decided to leave the country for pastures new abroad. Thus making way in Government, and elsewhere for those from the Protectorate who had previously been denied full participation in the affairs of the country through a lack both of opportunity, and universal adult suffrage. But perhaps the greatest episode during the past 62 years has been the unforgettable internal conflict, and civil war that lasted from 1991 to 2002, surpassing any previous coups de tats or countercoups that had blighted our earlier political development. This was a brutal civil war during which whole swathes of the country were physically destroyed, and many in the population were either killed, maimed, or suffered an indescribable amputation of limbs. The World had never witnessed such extreme human brutality, which has left scars that will take a very long time to heal. Whatever progress had been under way after a sensitive start on our long post-Independence Road was dramatically, and fatefully reversed plunging the country into a retrograde posture that would require much zeal, and determination on each, and every citizen if we are to recover quickly to relaunch our nation into its second period of 60 years.
In my view, the general situation did not actively encourage the emergence of sufficient indigenous authors and writers, and much of the secular story, therefore, remains untold. Consequently, I have written this Trilogy, seemingly retrospectively, to capture some of the colonial culture, and spirit in pre-Independent Sierra Leone. The first story is entitled ‘Then came the Wind’ using that well known phrase coined by ex-British Prime Minister Harold McMillan about a ‘Wind of Change’ blowing across the British Empire. Truly, those colonial days should never return, and are now confined to history, but we have a duty to document them in any way for posterity, and this is my attempt to do so in a semi-fictional setting using a random combination of typical personal occurrences.
The second story is based on the experience of a typical couple who had emigrated overseas, at first ostensibly to undergo tertiary training at university and then return home, who ultimately became part of the long term ‘brain drain’ generating a Diaspora of growing proportions. Sadly, too great a percentage of the able, and educated population left in this way, and this rose to an accelerated pace during the dark days of the civil conflict.
As a result, any present or future Leader will be faced with the Herculean task of providing conditions conducive to a similar mass return amounting to a corresponding ‘brain inflow’ that would ensure a sound future for our Country.
The final story ‘The Four Picaninnies’ has no significance other than to provide a simple story about the sort of life children enjoyed in the ‘good old days’ in the Colony area of Freetown. The quality of life was such that daily hardship, and toil did not dominate such experience and people including the children could have a fun life. It is our prayer that the next 70 years will turn things around once more allowing Sierra Leone to rejuvenate a comfortable Society right across the country in time for the benefit of all our people.
I continue to believe that our women acting as mothers, sisters, daughters, professionals even politicians, whether Christian or Muslim, will ultimately embrace their pivotal purpose to help craft the enhanced Sierra Leone which is that beautiful country we have long yearned for in hope since gaining our nationhood.
By God power….Inshalla!!
Then Came the Wind
Chapter One
Big Ben chimed eleven o’clock as the taxi crawled across Westminster Bridge taking him to the Colonial Office. As Maurice Clarkson read the sports page of his newspaper and noticed that Steve Donoghue had once again won the Derby, his thoughts were thousands of miles away in the continent of Africa, because he had received a letter of appointment over the weekend to become the next Governor of Sierra Leone; that distant British Territory in West Africa, the third largest of the four colonies in the region. Why did it have to be the ‘White man’s grave’? Since he joined the staff at Westminster, he had worked very hard to enter the colonial service. He had yearned continually for adventure, and for the exotic task of administering a British territory overseas, but all along he harboured specific hopes for service in India, or the Caribbean. Now that the opportunity had finally
presented itself, he found that his hopes had not been fully realised, and although he was going overseas, it would be neither east to India nor west to the Caribbean but rather he would travel south to that West African colony, which almost fits into the angle between latitude 10 degrees north and longitude 10 degree. He was feeling generous, and a gentleman as the taxi approached the end of his journey. The meter read two shillings and six pence, so he handed three shillings over in coins.
‘Thank you very much, you may keep the change’ he said to the driver who was grateful to make an extra six pence! As he climbed out of the taxi, his thoughts continued. to be as active as ever, there did not seem to be enough time for him to arrange his tropical outfit with the tailors, he would have to secure a perfect fit for his white ceremonial uniform used by all colonial Governors, and his white plumed helmet, which he would order will have to be absolutely perfect, as it will become the focal point of interest at all public functions he attended.
Maurice had a lot of medical detail to address; the mosquito might be a tiny insect but its bite could be fatal and had to be amply catered for. Mary had been delighted at the prospect of going overseas as one part of the colonial estate was as good as the other to her. Her concern would have been over a lack of facilities to continue her Christian faith, but the Church Missionary Society had been very active in this area, and she anticipated very little danger of that being the case in Sierra Leone. As he climbed up the steps, he remembered that he had to decide on something for their evening’s entertainment because he had left home in such a hurry that they had still not done so. He must choose between Al Jolson, a night out dancing the Charleston, or a film……..a silent film. ‘I wonder whether we shall see the anticipated film with soundtracks before we set sail for darkest Africa’ he mused.
As he walked along the corridor, he was pleased to recognise a familiar face approaching from the Financial Secretary’s office.
‘Good morning, Derek, don’t you wish the whole of Summer could be as pleasant, and sunny as it is this morning?’ He asked cheerfully, relying on the British weather to facilitate their conversation.
Unbeknownst to him, another of his dreams could be about to materialise, because Derek had similarly been ordered South to serve in the tropics. He had received his marching orders for West Africa as Financial Secretary on the same government, which accounted for his presence at the Colonial Office that morning.
‘Good morning, Mr. Clarkson, I was delighted to find your name on the Schedule when I came in this morning.’ Maurice felt equally pleased, but before he could get a word in Derek continued, ‘I did not expect to find myself working with you so soon after our last association. I look forward to wielding the regulation big stick with you, albeit in far off Africa.’
Derek had finished his interview and continued on his way out of the building to lose himself in the morning London traffic as he started on his own arrangements for overseas service. He set off for the Reference Library although ti was unlikely that he would find more than just a few inadequate books on the area. Of course, it would have been of considerable help if he had his brother’s carriage at his disposal, but unfortunately, he had to make do.
The passenger list of the next steamer to sail from Liverpool included quite a few civil servants of varying grades going out to join this distant British colonial administration. Yet, most of the heads of government departments, leaders of the church, and businessmen came from an outside source, and consisted mainly of expatriates. It had been a beautiful Summer’s Day on that Sunday up North at the end of which a large number of worshippers had gathered as usual for evensong in the Minster; the Archdeacon was about to close the service. ‘…through Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen,’ he concluded.
He thanked the choir for their wonderful singing, which had filled York Minster so melodiously during evensong, especially during the rendering of the anthem – ‘God so loved the World’, before retiring to his usual position by the West door to bid farewell to the congregation. ‘Good night, Mrs. Pomphrey, and remember to be careful as you go! ‘He knew most of his flock by their names.
At last, he had bid every member attending goodnight, and he eventually set off walking along Lair Gate towards the Bar and found he could not walk fast enough. He could not wait to get home, and continue his discussion with his wife, Olive, regarding the Mission on which they were about to embark. He had been accepted by the Church Missionary Society for one of their missions in West Africa. This promised to be a greater challenge than his work as Archdeacon at the Minster, as he would be consecrated as Bishop of his new Diocese. As the spiritual leader of the church, he would naturally have control over the whole of the CMS factor in his new field. He had constantly prayed for such an opportunity to disseminate the gospel to God’s children overseas, a hope shared by both, and now that his prayers had been answered they were both full of joy, and almost impatient to get out and start their contribution to Evangelism. He expected that Olive would get involved with the Mothers’ Union, and other activities that might either exist or could be introduced during their sojourn from Yorkshire.
Taken from the book ‘Tales From Our Nationhood’ available on Amazon
Author Bio:
I started writing early and published my first book, Air Force Cadet in 1971. I have also been an editor, publisher and a literary agent, assisting other promising writers in realising their dreams.
Contact Author:
Winston Forde
10 Vicarage Gardens
Linslade
Beds
LU7 2LL
