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The Mama Susu story
[warning, some of the details of this testimony are graphic and discretion should be used with minors]
Gurley street was just off Broad Street in central Monrovia – the capital of Liberia. It was August 2009, the middle of the rainy season. Our hostess was “Mama Susu” and this was her restaurant. She cruised over to our table with the grace of a black eagle, “What you like to eat, my lady?” Robert, Annette and I were surveying the first proper menu we had seen that week. It had a choice of dishes, western, West African and Middle Eastern; the décor was simple but our hostess was enthusiastic in her attention. We chose. She was an outstanding person, and we were curious. We were trying to understand how Liberia became what it is today.
 “Ah” She sighed, sitting down at our table, joining our group. “I came to Liberia from Syria – yes, I am a Syrian. It was the 1974, I had friends here, and I came with my husband. Liberia was better than Europe. Yes, better than Europe. There were many Syrians here then – now there are only five of us. In those days there were people here from all over the world – Italians, Germans, British, Americans, Lebanese, they all came here. The people, the Liberian people, they were honest, everyone was honest – not like now. All the airlines came – Pan Am, Swissair, KLM, British Caledonian, there were visits from Navies – I remember the Germans coming – and the French. All the Embassies were here – and every nationality had a club of their own. There were fresh flowers twice a week from Holland, oh, Monrovia was a beautiful city! The fashions of Europe – you would find them all in the shops, whatever you wanted. Food from all over the world – you could buy it here in Monrovia. It was like that.” She said wistfully
“In 1974 my husband die. He had the kidney problems, it was not like today, there was no treatment. He die in Syria, and there was problems with the in-laws. I had friends in Liberia – so I came back here. My daughter – she stay in Syria. She never come to Africa. So I come by myself, and I work in the Carlton Hotel on Broad Street – the building is still there but it is a ruin now. Then I decide, I don’t work for nobody, I decide to run a place – in Broad Street, I call it La Concorde. You know even the Concorde… it came here one time.
Until 1965 only the children of the released slaves went to school. The native people - there are so many tribes - they did not go to school. The released slaves all had English names – Johnson, Mackenzie, their families ran everything. The native people – they were honest, and hard working, and very poor. But they appreciate so much everything we do for them.
I’m sorry madam, what I about to say, it bad, very bad. 1990 was terrible. I don’t know how to explain. They kill people and leave their bodies lying in the street; I have seen a dog eat a human being; I have seen a person eat an arm from another, yes cannibalism my lady, I saw the worms in the eyes of a dead man, hundreds, thousands of worms in them, yes. They kill a man outside my restaurant. It was August, it was hot, the body was stinking. I ask a man, please, bury this person, they ask for money to remove the body. The bodies – they lie in the street, no one buries them. We hear rumors, Mr Doe, he say he coming for everyone. I don’t know what is happening – the airport was closed in July. In August it bad, there rumours everywhere. I go to American Embassy. They say, “You are Syrian, we will have to see.” I get crazy! I say, “Don’t tell me you can’t help me because I Syrian!” I left on a Visa through the American Embassy. They made us fill in a form, gave us 90 days credit. It was $300 they gave us. They took us from the Embassy by helicopter to the American warship off the coast. We were given cabins deep in the ship, under the waterline, for 3 days we did not know if it was day or night. Mr Doe he say he going and we can come back, but then he say he want all his people to come with him, and the Americans say no. So they airlift us to Cote d'Ivoire, and my Consulate, they give me a ticket back to Syria. To I go home, with nothing my lady, I took nothing.
I come back 1993. Doe was killed – they tricked him – there was a meeting, they told him, “No one will bring guns” so he did not bring guns, and they shot him. The BBC reporter, Elizabeth Blanc, she told the world – but no one care. This Liberia. So I come back, I sell my jewelry in Syria, I get some money and I come. I open here, in this shop, I call it “Speedy Restaurant” There was a Hungarian man, he used to come and eat here all the time and write about me in the Restaurant. He was very famous food critic.
Then in 1996 more trouble! More fighting in the street. A man come and start to steal my car, which was parked in the street, under my flat. I say, “Leave my car!” he point his gun at me and say, “Get inside or I shoot you” So he take my car, she was brand new Volkswagon, I have never bought another one. Once more, I go to the American Embassy, they take us out in a helicopter to Senegal, and then they fly us out on a military plane, Hercules back to back with nets like paratroopers! I stay in Syria six months, then I come back and start the same business, from scratch. This time I call my place “First Food Restaurant.”
Still the country unstable, even though UN had now come – 16,000 of them, but they can only watch. Every time they loot, they, destroy, they take everything; every time I start again from scratch. I see a woman I know walking in the street. She a very beautiful Liberian woman, but she walking crooked. I say, why you walk like this? She say the soldiers tie her in a tree. Then they use her. Many soldiers, many days, and her hip, it pushed out of joint, she broke. Now she walk crooked. Soldiers came and take the wife in front of the husband; she hate the husband, he not defend her, he hate the wife, she was defiled. The family is destroyed. They cut up pregnant woman in front of husband, just to see what sex the baby. This happened many time.
So much trouble come, in 2003 I leave again. My Consul, he say, “Women and children, you going! Men can make up their own mind.” So I go to Senegal – but I come back. One day later, Charles Taylor was deposed while he was out of the country. Now they try him in the Hague. But his people, his supporters, they still here. Many in government. The war Lords they now in government, the generals they paid hansomly. Why they only try one man? If he guilty – then others guilty too. Try all!
The UN start in 1994. Then they withdraw. They come back. In 2003 Liberia is the biggest UN program in the world. Now it is smaller, they say they are reducing numbers and they will withdraw. But look down that street – you will see two big UN generators, they are providing the power for the city because the power is not restored. They provide drinking water in some place, help to bring the rubber to markets, People have confidence when they see UN, when they see Liberian soldiers they fear.
Today people have no confidence in security. There are guards, there are police, there are military, there are UN but nothing safe. Corruption is everywhere. The best people they have left. Now we face an uncertain future. Will it improve? Will it get worse? I don’t know. I stay for now, but this is my last time, if it come again, I leave for good.”
With that our meals arrived, well prepared, well presented, well done. Quite out of step and out of keeping with the environment we found ourselves in.
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