A Nightmare turned to Hell

Back in the nightmarish conditions of the first house we lived in….this is the story of where the nightmare possibly turned into Hell.

I was not at home this day, I was at work.  Mo allowed the maid to go home early that day and was sitting with Jackson playing around the house (outside because there was no electricity).  All of the sudden Mo said he heard screaming and yelling! When he walked outside he saw the gardener/security guard running around yelling “She’s got a knife she is going to kill me!” Chasing him was the pregnant wife with a knife screaming, “He’s a thief! He stole from you! He’s a criminal!”  My son witnessed this, even with how quick Mo moved Jackson from outside to inside the dark, hot house, my son still witnessed this crazy chaos!

Moments later the pregnant wife was on the ground seizing. Surprisingly, my husband helped her to her feet and tried to calm her down. Why did he do that? Because he is nicer than me! I would have called the cops on both of them.

Later when Mo told the landlord about the situation that arose, his answer was the same, “This is Africa.”

Time in Sierra Leone so far....The first house

I knew keeping this blog thing would be impossible for me...but here I am again, trying.

To Recap:

We moved to Sierra Leone from Sheikh Zayed, Egypt on August 2, 2012. We made this trip as a family. My husband, Mo, our almost 3 year old son, Jackson, and our almost 6 year old Chihuahua, Colossus.

The first house we lived in was a nightmare. We cried almost every night. It was in Goderich and in the ghetto. Once we turned off the main road we traveled on an uneven ditch-filled, water pipe busted, "local" road.  We drove past tin roofed shacks where the local poor people lived and the local dunk men would often shout at our car demanding money for the "security" they provided for us. This was never the case. My husband every now and then would roll down the window and offer 5,000 Leones to them. This seemed like a nice gesture but only encouraged them to increase the harassment. Once we made it around the final turn a red, rusted, wired held together gated greeted us. This was our new "home". Once inside the gate the local black and white dog named Blackie would greet us. We parked the black 1996 Nissan Pathfinder on the uneven terrain and then walked up to the house through another gate. Our house was very small. Usually you would describe a house as small and cozy but that latter word is not one to describe this. The house was hot, dark, dull, uncomfortable, insect ridden, and depressing. Of a typical 30 day month we did not have electricity 25 of the days.  It was too small to move around in even with our small family. There was 2 bedrooms a kitchen which only one person could fit semi comfortably in at a time, a dinning/living room, and a tiny bathroom in which the door could not be opened fully due to hitting the sink. The landlord (half Sierra Leonean/half Lebanese) lived on the same compound and across stoop from us. There was also a "security guard/gardener" that lived on the premise too in a one room shack.

While living in the house we hired a maid to help with the house work, even though the house was tiny the bugs would overwhelm me. We had her come into the house Monday to Friday and used gasoline to mop the floors to keep the ants and other crawling critters away. Nothing worked though and the landlord often told us, "This is Africa what do you expect?"