Liberians have lots of great expressions, and I've enjoyed learning some of them as we traveled the country. I've shared a few of them here on my blog — how da body, tryin' small, a fish cup of rice.
My ear got used to the patois after we'd been here a few days, and I was happy to be able to rely less and less on our translators. I found myself slipping into Liberian English enough so that I could understand what people were telling me. I even was able to adapt my own spoken English with a touch of patois so that they could better understand me. It was fun and satisfying to connect with people through our talking, listening — and our shared language of simple human caring.
We met so many strong, proud Liberian people who are digging in to do the hard daily work of rebuilding their ravaged country. On this trip, we made a point of talking with lots of women. Most of the one-on-one conversations I had were with the grandmothers and mothers, sisters and daughters whose bright outfits often provided the only spots of cheerful decoration against the drab browns of their mud-brick huts. Their personalities were as colorful and distinct as the fabrics they wore.

Liberian women are the cocoa farmers I met, like Mary and Samah and Annie. They're vegetable farmers who have also been trained in secretarial skills, like Isabella. They're businesswomen, like Tetee (in this picture), who has been supporting her family for two years by selling goods in her small shop. Many of them, like Wadey, have horrific stories of their experiences during the war years. It was hard to hear their stories of the violence that has scarred them.
And yet, they are looking forward with hope. That's the thing that stays with me the most from this trip.
To a woman, they talked about education — their number one priority for their children and themselves. "When there is no education," said Isabella, "you are blind. You can't do anything. Education is the key." They're earning their own money and counting every penny to try to save enough to pay school fees so their children can learn to read and write. They're absolutely ecstatic about the Mercy Corps literacy classes and other training that are helping them acquire the basic skills to get ahead.
They're also applying their own sweat and muscle to the hard slog of farming. They're eagerly absorbing new methods of planting, mulching and composting to improve their yields.
And the many people who have had Mercy Corps training in community-building are showing how much they have absorbed those lessons. Clearly, they deeply value respectful dialogue and inclusive democracy. At every village meeting I attended, people packed into the palaver huts to participate and listened with the utmost courtesy and attentiveness as each person spoke.
These are the some of the images and memories that will stay with me as I wind up this trip. I'm thinking about one expression I learned: "Papa na come." It means, "Things will be good," as in "Papa's gonna come." I think Papa here is meant to signify any family provider.
But after this trip, I've coined my own version of this saying. It's "Mama na come." Because I think the women of Liberia — the same women whose uprising helped lead the country away from a cruel dictatorship and towards a democracy led by a woman president, Ellen Johnson Sirleaf — are showing the way to this beautiful country's future. I'm betting on their success, because I've seen with my own eyes what they're accomplishing.
Rice is a staple food in Liberia. But it's not easy for Liberians to fill their bowls or their bellies these days. Like poor people the world over, they've been slammed by the steep increases in food prices of the past couple of years.
Driving around the country, we do see rice for sale — in small shops and roadside stands and open air markets. I stop to talk to the vendors about what it costs.

This photo shows what Liberians call a "fish cup" or sometimes a "salmon cup" of rice — the empty sardine (or salmon or mackerel) can is the common unit of measure for a small purchase, perhaps enough for a family's meager meal. In the capital Monrovia, a fish cup of rice now costs about 28 cents. In the rural areas, a fish cup of rice costs half that much — about 14 cents.
Little as the amount is, it's three times what Liberians paid just four years ago. And the hike in the price of rice is just one of the factors that are causing people to go hungry. Liberia is among a handful of countries at the very bottom of the list of the world's poorest.
I've seen gut-wrenching evidence of the country's poverty in my travels this week. Even for a writer like me, it's hard to put in words.
But I've been haunted by my photo of the fish cup. It reminds me that you can measure suffering in these very real daily examples — and you can measure progress that way, too. Mercy Corps is working in tiny towns and villages around Liberia to help people grow more food, to fill their supper pots with more fish cups of rice today and, most important, to learn the farming techniques that will keep them supplied with fish cups long into the future.

It's so lush here, it's seems like every plant would grow, and grow hearty, all on its own. But of course, like anything, there's an art and a science to successful agriculture. To get the highest yields from their crops and gardens, Liberian farmers are learning new techniques from Mercy Corps.
We visited a demonstration garden in Vaye Town, Gbarpolu County, where women and men are making their own compost, seasoning it with a touch of a local plant that naturally repels nematodes and using it to mulch their vegetables. They're getting more sweet potatoes by planting a single spud in each mound.
They've also learned to plant each kind of vegetable – cassava, corn, okra, cowpeas (beans) and groundnuts (peanuts) – in its own row or mound, so they can create and monitor the conditions in which it grows best.
In a land this fertile, it makes sense to focus on agriculture as the main development vehicle, as "President Ellen" has done. Mercy Corps is working with Liberian farmers to coax their next meal – and all the meals of their future – out of the ground.

Annie Garfree has six children, three daughters and three sons. Only her boys are currently in school. But she's eager to make sure all of them get an education.
Annie is a farmer who's learning new methods of planting, growing and harvesting so she can earn more money and provide for her family. She's one of 25 farmers participating in a Mercy Corps program on a cocoa farm that was started by our Phoenix Fund. More than half of the farmers in this program, and in Liberia in general, are women. President Ellen Johnson Sirleaf has called agriculture the main engine of Liberia's economic development. Mercy Corps is helping Annie and other Liberian women farmers meet their country's own goals by becoming more successful farmers.
I sat with Annie under a tree in the cocoa nursery, talking about her life and cocoa farming. First, she had to rehabilitate the land — clearing the dense undergrowth called "brushing" here in Liberia — with a machete. Then she had to dig out the roots. It's grueling labor, and Annie is tiny, about five feet tall and as lean as a sapling. But she's strong.
I hold up my arm next to hers and challenge her to a mock arm-wrestle, and we both burst out laughing. Before even starting, it's clear who the winner would be.
Annie just got her first batch of cocoa seedlings. She carried the plants to her farm, about a half-hour walk from the Mercy Corps nursery. There, she's learning planting techniques like how to plant banana trees between the rows of cocoa seedlings. The bananas provide necessary protection from the sun while the cocoa plants are getting established, as well as a much-needed cash crop for farmers like Annie until the cocoa trees begin bearing fruit.
"For a long time," says Annie, "I had no hope. Now, with the seedlings from Mercy Corps, and the training I'm getting, I'll be able to pay tuition to send my children to school."
I have been writing about women’s economic issues in Afghanistan for years, but I was still surprised to hear Pashtoon Azfar, the dynamic and tenacious head of the Afghan Midwives Association, frame her argument for midwifery in economic terms.
"If people think a midwife in their family will be contributing to the household, fathers and brothers will support their mothers and wives and daughters," says Azfar. "If a woman has any economic role in the family, for sure she has some decision-making role as well. That is why I am an advocate of this. It is not just for midwifery – it is for change."
Listening to Azfar share her view in a country with some of the world’s worst maternal mortality figures, I realized that what I had been thinking of as a dire health issue was also an opportunity and an opening for women. Each day midwives all around the country fan out in pairs of two to homes across their communities. They hand out birthing kits, explain the proper way to wash hands and describe the warning signs for post-natal problems that demand hospital treatment. In the process, their door-to-door work shows both men and women that women can be powerful role models sharing their knowledge, saving lives, and earning a living.
It was the last part that Azfar was focused on and which I had written about for years. In a family-centered culture such as Afghanistan, women who brought income into the home nearly always gained respect and decision-making power. Often they made certain that their income paid for girls as well as boys to go to school. And it was economic, rather than political power, that many women saw as the force for real and lasting change in their lives.
Challenges are abundant: insecurity is rising, illiteracy is rampant, power is limited, infrastructure is poor, and input costs are exorbitant. Still, businesswomen spot the same potential for positive change in entrepreneurship as Azfar sees in midwifery: Women who bring income into their homes gain a voice in their household and respect among their relatives. And that is the first step to helping women create better lives for their families — and themselves.
Gayle Tzemach Lemmon recently wrote about the progress being made in Afghanistan to reduce infant and maternal mortality in her article, "Amid War Afghanistan Trains Thousands of New Midwives", for the Christian Science Monitor
During one natural stopping point in the book while reading about Meena, I put the book down and picked up my 9-month old daughter and just embraced her with tears brimming. After having given birth to and bonding with a daughter, I could not fathom having her be away from me, let alone having to plead for her release and being beaten for it. This book awakened my existing awareness of these saddening realities that women in the world face every day. The facts provided illustrate the political actions being taken, and not being taken. The combination of emotions I experienced while reading did renew my desire see change and action be taken, and it made me want to be a part of it, even if in some small way such as educating my own daughter about these issues.
This book helped me to understand the true complexity regarding determining what the right solutions are towards helping some of these problems the women face. One of the factors that was so helpful was the use of the data. For example, a striking yet brief example when it describes how the seemingly good intentions of Senator Tom Harkin potentially indirectly caused thousands of young girls to be displaced in factories only to end up dying of AIDS. This example is important to include among the other positive examples so that we are reminded just how complex each individual situation can be and that it does require ongoing consideration, discussion, and action appropriate for the situation.

I have always believed there are significant drawbacks to women’s equality. There is an unrelenting pressure to be perfect and to do everything: women are now expected to be amazing and attentive mothers, have multiple degrees, maintain successful careers and manage the household by cleaning and cooking. It just means more is expected in the same amount of time. I don’t think equality is about women having EQUAL rights and being treated the same as men. I think progress comes from recognizing women have DIFFERENT needs that need to be met and only by understanding those differences can true equality and empowerment come.
Diba, a communications officer for Healthy Start — Mercy Corps’ breastfeeding program in Jakarta — is one of these powerhouse women. (I am convinced women like this have more chemicals in their brain which I lack and have always envied.) She’s a single mother, works full time and is going to school for her Master's degree. Diba’s eyes light up when she talks about her job.
“I never thought I would find an NGO with a breastfeeding program!” she exclaims to me as we drive to the health clinic. I have never met someone so enthusiastic and heartfelt about their job. This is her passion, and you can see it in the way she describes the program details, talks with field staff, volunteers, midwives and mothers.
Breastfeeding — or lack their of — is a huge challenge in Jakarta. Breastfeeding has numerous health benefits and can prevent malnutrition and child mortality. Drug companies push formulas on doctors, health clinics and midwives — many mothers aren’t even aware of their basic right to breastfeed. In the hospitals after delivery, the babies are taken from their mothers and bottle fed without the mother’s permission. Baby formula is expensive and mothers often times dilute it with dirty water —the only thing available — which can cause diarrhea and illness.
Healthy Start is working with health care providers, midwives, community leaders and government workers to educate and support women and their right to breastfeed. I sat in on a mothers’ support group where women asked questions — and not just about breastfeeding.
“When can I introduce solid foods?"
"When I have leg cramps [from pregnancy] what is the least painful way to get up?"
"When will my baby’s teeth come in?”
The irony is that breastfeeding is not just a women’s issue in Jakarta. It takes the entire community to mobilize to learn about the benefits of breastfeeding and support these mothers. Many of the Healthy Start facilitators are men and most of the government leaders that Mercy Corps works with are men.
Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn talk about this exact issue in their book, "Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide." He said, just as civil rights wasn’t a black issue and the Holocaust wasn’t a Jewish issue, women’s equality isn’t just a women’s issue. I have seen this firsthand in Jakarta where men are involved in learning and encouraging their wives, sisters, daughters and friends about the importance of breastfeeding, and bringing us one step closer to equality.
I finished Half the Sky last night. It was incredibly moving and powerful. Although much of it was tough to take, I found myself unable to put it down.
I consider myself an educated, aware woman, and yet many of the stories and statistics were shocking. That "more girls have been killed in the last fifty years, precisely because they were girls, than men were killed in all the wars of the twentieth century," is unbelievable and gut wrenching.
It is mentioned in the book that often times Westerners invest too much effort in changing unjust laws and not enough in changing culture. I found this point fascinating. I am curious if the authors think that viewpoints are shifting on this point.
It was also interesting to hear the authors thoughts on "sweat shop" labor. So much energy is spent on proposing laws, picketing, boycotting, when in fact, in many countries it is actually a positive thing for workers. It not only creates jobs, but often times keeps women in a safe place and a more desirable working environment. This was one of many great examples of how we Westerners get it in our mind that we are "all knowing" and working to help, when in fact our good intentions might miss the mark a bit.
After reading Three Cups of Tea a couple of years ago, it became vividly clear to me that empowering and educating women would solve a great deal of thee problems worldwide. Half the Sky took that point to another level for me. The obvious thread to changing the horrors inflicted on women and also men is education. Educate, educate, educate.
Half the Sky made it became apparent to me that it isn't as simple as building schools — although that is an essential requirement. There are so many layers of education that need to take place. Monitoring of these schools, intimate, first-hand knowledge of cultural issues, etc., etc. The examples provided by Nicholas and Sheryl brought this home for me. I get it at such a deeper level having read this book and feel unbelievably inspired to get involved.
My family will absolutely move forward on the four steps outlined at the end of the book. And we are most excited about sponsoring a girl though Plan International. It will be wonderful for our children to be involved first-hand and play a role in communication.
This book will stay with me forever. It will continue to inspire me and I hope that it makes and stays on the New York Times' bestseller list long enough to make a huge impact.
For years I’ve been aware of the misogyny and desperate plight of women in many developing countries. Half the Sky was an amazing reminder not just of these issues — but of the ways in which each of us can get involved to make a difference. While many of the stories were incredibly difficult to hear — the world seems so full of misery and hatred — it was the inspiration, hope, and refusal to quit of so many that inspired me. I was surprised by some of the very simple things that can have such a huge impact, like ionization, for example. I was also surprised by the seemingly major role that educating girls and women can play in solving so many of these issues.
Talking with my 5 year old daughter about all the countries in the world — where they are, the kinds of people who live there and what life is like there — is something that we can all do to ensure the next generation grows up understanding how they can make a difference and how they can help. Talking about the role of women in economic development, reading books like Half the Sky, and sharing ways to get involved through organizations like Mercy Corps are simple ways we can all make a difference.
I feel very fortunate to have had the opportunity to read this book. Prior to this reading I was aware of some of these issues but did not realize the pandemic proportions of the problem. The narrative is both compelling and makes a balanced diagnosis of the status quo and application of possible solutions. The overall force of the book is to turn eyes towards a silent massacre and it deserves great praise for this accomplishment. The advocacy in the text does not come from high up … hopefully the same evenhanded concern expressed in these pages effects readers to action of a similar fashion.
On a more personal note, I will be giving this book to my three nieces, my two sisters and lots of my friends. What a great gift idea! This will be my way of making a small contribution towards empowering women caught in this vicious cycle. The knowledge gained form this reading will cause most readers to take some action to try and bring about positive change. Originating from Pakistan I could have been one of the women in this book — I never forgot that.

One Table is a Mercy Corps campaign to fight world hunger by investing in the world's women.