Chapter 12: Nurse

Liberian Civil War

"You don enjoy the show last night, Dr. Em?"

"What? Those carol singers at one in the morning!" I cringed, embarrassed that word of my bad temper had got round.

"No, no, Dr. Em, the video!"

"The video?" What was Dauda talking about? Surely there were no videos here.

"In the church hall, Dr. Em," AJ chirped. "The Liberians brought a video. Only a hundred leones to get in."

"Oh, I see."

Refugees from Liberia's brutal civil war were fleeing over the border in their thousands, and were being sheltered in Salonean homes, sharing their already meagre resources. They brought with them horrendous stories of the atrocities being committed by the rival rebel factions led by Prince Johnson and Charles Taylor. Both men claimed to have liberated the country from the brutality of the president but, so far, had proved themselves more than able to match any of his atrocities.

The Saloneans gave thanks that they were not, and had never been, involved in such a terrible war. On the other hand they had never been as prosperous as their sophisticated neighbours. Those refugees who had escaped early in the conflict had brought belongings such as televisions and generators that a Salonean wouldn't even dream of. An enterprising refugee could certainly make a nice living from showing videos in village halls.

"So what was the video?" I asked.

"The Killing of President Doe," said Dauda, enthusiastically.

Typical, I thought, a Rambo movie. Then I stopped, remembering far-off news bulletins. "Wasn't he the President of Liberia?"

"Yes. Prince Johnson don kill him," said AJ.

"Was it some kind of documentary then?" I asked, hopefully.

"Oh no, Dr. Em! The rebels don torture him then they don kill him and they don make a video!" AJ enthused.

"Oh," I said, feeling suddenly sweaty and light-headed. Good God, a snuff movie.

"Sorry-oh, Dr. Em."

"No problem," I gulped, assuming Dauda's concern was over my change in colour.

"We are sorry we did not tell you about the film," Dauda continued. "You could have come with us!"

"That's quite all right, Dauda." I found my voice. "There's enough blood for me on Surgical."

"There was plenty plenty people there, Dr. Em," raved AJ.

"Mmm hmm." My hand was still over my mouth.

"Sold out," nodded Dauda.

"Indeed." This was probably the first time any of them had seen a television, I told myself. They would have been just as excited by The Sound of Music.

"He was a bad man, President Doe," said Dauda.

"So I understand."

"Yes, he killed hundreds. Thousands. He deserved to die, Dr. Em."

"I'm sure. And these rebel-saints? How many have they killed?"

"Prince Johnson don cut off his ear," AJ continued, ignoring my last comment.

"And then he ate it!" added Dauda. This was too much for me. I left them to their enthusiastic conversation, went outside and threw up.

Back to Extracts