Phillip Sowen (Day) and Martin Lowen (Night)
I never tried to out-do my friend Kevin, but it happened while in Zwedru. One of the principals I knew, Harrison, had twin sons while I was in the Peace Corps. He named one Phillip Sowon (Day) and the other Martin Lowon (Night). I never really planned to leave any little Phillips or any little Martins in Africa. But, life has surprises. And, they were adorable. Invariably, one of them wet me every time I held them and Martin always cried.
I had no contact information for them when the war started. I’ve not known what happened to the twins or their family ever since I departed in 1989. As it turned out, Harrison was in Monrovia studying when the war started. His wife and children had to flee to the Ivory Coast on their own for safety. Even Harrison didn’t know where they were for years.
Food, money and medical treatment were in scarce supply. During this time, Phillip became sick and died. As he explained all this to me, Harrison asked the question that I knew he would. “Why didn’t you come back to Zwedru to rescue the children?”
What can be said to a father still grieving? I didn’t have contact information. I didn’t know how to reach them. And, no matter what I wanted to do, the US government would not have let me bring them to America if they weren’t actual family members. It just would not be possible. I certainly wish I could have sent money. I helped my other friend, Daniel, who was a refugee in the Ivory Coast. It just breaks my heart that I personally knew people who were refugees of war. It’s so sad to think that proper medical treatment might have saved this child’s life.
I had a dinner invitation at the Kanweah home where I was finally reintroduced to Martin. He didn’t wet on me and he didn’t cry as soon as he saw me. Yes, he certainly grew up since I last saw him. When dinner and no-bake cookies were finished, and it was time for me to leave, I told Martin I had to give him a hug. Seriously, there was no way around it as far as I was concerned, but I hoped it was okay with him. Much to my relief, as I hugged him, I saw a huge smile cross over his face.
Another one of my very special Liberian friends was Alphonso. He was one of the most kind and gentle people I’ve ever met. He and his best friend Timothy watched over me the last year I was in Zwedru. I moved to a corner of the town where no white man had ever lived before. It certainly made me easy to locate. If a visitor came looking for me, they only had to ask where the Peace Corps Volunteer lived. Everyone knew.
But first, they had to get past Timothy and Alphonso.
Alphonso once asked me what he could give me as a going away present from Liberia. There is a very unique kind of fly swatter made from long palm fibers. It almost looks like a mini-broom. I came home one day to find Alphonso adding the finishing touches to the gift he made for me. I’ve treasured it in my home ever since.
Timothy and Alphonso were among my three Liberian friends who walked me to the bus station on my last day in Zwedru. They waited three hours for my departure. So, it’s fairly obvious to see, he was a dear friend.
On my list of people to locate upon arrival in Zwedru, Alphonso was the first I heard about. The term used to describe him was “late”. No details. A couple of days later, I met his brother and learned Alphonso was killed in an automobile accident. I was thankful that I could share with a member of his family how much of a friend his brother was to me.
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