Out of the Ashes

I stood with Abigail in one arm and held our front door opened with my other hand, urgently calling people to come into my home for shelter from the flying bullets. This time, unlike the 2nd of July, I was fearless. I wanted to assist as many people as I could. I did not consider the danger to myself or Abigail.
The shooting stopped for a second time, and some of the women ventured out of the house to see what was happening. Everyone wondered what had happened to the twenty thousand people who had been lying in the open fields of the compound. Tony and I chose to stay inside of the house, but we looked outside, and we were not prepared for what we saw. We saw thick smoke coming from two directions on the campus. We saw two groups of rebels running on the beach, weapons and ammunition hanging on their bodies as if for decoration. This renewed our fear. While we were trying to figure out what was going on, more shooting began. This time it lasted for almost four hours.
Those four hours became the most intense and desperate hours I have ever spent, praying and crying out to God for the safety of my family and the others around me. As the shooting continued, it became crystal clear to me that we were now in a war zone and our lives were in great danger. The fighting had left four people dead, eight injured, and thousands scrambling for their lives. Some of the wounded bled to death right where they had been shot.
While we were still in the house, we heard a bang on our front door that almost took my breath away. A command followed: "Open the door and come outside!" Before Tony could get to the door, a second call came in a louder voice, "Everybody get outside!" When Tony opened the door, two NPFL rebels (Taylor’s rebels) ordered us outside, and we quickly complied. More rebels came forward and began to search our group and our home. We had no idea what they were looking for at the time, but it soon became obvious to us that they were searching for government soldiers and Krahn or Mandingo people, the so-called enemy groups and tribes.
I instantly became numb and my stomach began to spasm. The urge to vomit came upon me, but there was nowhere to go. I held my stomach and squeezed every muscle within me to calm myself down. My stomach continued to hurt until later when I was finally able to throw up.
When the rebels had finished searching, they ordered us to leave the house and go to the rebel-controlled areas where they had gathered other displaced Liberians. The men looked at each other, filled with fear and uncertainty about what to do or say. From the barbaric stories we had heard about the rebels, however, we knew not to argue with them. Rather, wisdom advised us to do everything they told us to do.
With more courage than I knew I possessed, I pleaded with the rebels to allow me to go inside our house and grab a few things for my toddler and me. Thankfully they allowed me to enter the house, but not the men. I took Kemah with me, while Tony held Abigail tightly against his chest.
Because of my great fear of the rebels who were high on drugs with bloodshot eyes, I was totally confused and did not know what to take with me. I forgot to grab any of my daughter's necessities, even her diapers or food. I took with me her diaper bag, which contained her feeding bottles, a Sippy cup, and some photos. I also took two of Tony's dress suit coats and put them under my arms as I went to the kitchen. Knowing that the rebels had only given me ten minutes to gather a few items, I now panicked, fearing they would harm me for taking too long. I put some uncooked rice in a bag, grabbed Tony's set of Francis Schaeffer books, and ran outside with Kemah ahead of me.
Why the books? I have no idea. Besides the dress I was wearing, I was only able to take for myself one skirt and a top that had been left lying on our bed. Within ten minutes, my family and I were out of the comfort of a nice modern home with running top water and electricity, though we were rationing for the lack of fuel in the country, and headed toward the unknown. In the blink of an eye, our lives had changed for the worse. We were no longer free people—we were under the control of these savages who had no regard for human life.
We knew that these boys were drugged by their commanders into doing the unthinkable. We also knew they were convinced that voodoo made their bodies bulletproof. As we made our way out of the compound, we saw evidence of the falsehood of this belief which was intended to empower these young men. This belief had allowed them to commit the horrendous crimes requested by their commanders, yet along the roadsides, countless rebel bodies lay in bushes where they had been caught in the battle with government forces.
The sight of these dead rebels was our first appalling experience within the rebel-controlled area. The smell of decomposing bodies was thick in the air. We literally had to step on corpses as we walked because it was impossible to avoid them. I felt sick to my stomach, and once again the urge to throw up came over me. This time it was not from fear alone but the stinking smell of rotting flesh which filled me with nausea. As the crowd of other displaced people surged towards us, there was no time to stand and compose myself. We were on the run.
Dr. Ardill described the scene as the ELWA compound emptied:
We continued on and just before the Duport Road we encountered the 20,000 refugees who had run from ELWA. It was very disturbing and sad to see so many of our staff running for their lives. It reminded me of Moses leading the children of Israel. The crowd was huge and we could barely make it along the road with the cars. Many begged for a ride and we felt badly we could not help them. We saw more bodies along the road and smelled the sickening odor of decomposing bodies left to rot on the ground (Ardill, page 203).
My family and I were hidden within the masses of humanity walking on the Duport Road on that day which Dr. Ardill so accurately described. We were among the thousands of others whose fears were as great as our own, whose hearts were as terrified as ours. We were headed into the unknown with no understanding of what lay ahead. There was no transport for civilians except for the rebels and the handful of expatriates like the missionaries from ELWA compound who were fleeing for their lives. Many people walked for hundreds of miles before reaching their destinations. Others were killed while fleeing ELWA and Monrovia in a desperate and unsuccessful attempt to save their lives.