A Seemingly Simple Discrepancy

Edward is one of my better biology students. He’s also one of my many neighbors and a great footballer (again, we’re talking soccer here). While we both are hoping that Real Madrid will finally beat Barcelona one of these days, Edward and I have almost nothing in common short of our enjoyment of football and laughing together on my front porch every now and again. One obvious example of our differences is that while I was fortunate enough to grow up in a place most Liberians consider to be the land of milk and honey and I had the option to simply chose to travel and work in Liberia, Edward grew up here but will be hard pressed to ever succeed in his obsession which is to get to that land of milk and honey. But one other difference that really disturbs me is the fact that I have two biology textbooks and Edward has none; and, I can’t seem to fix this seemingly simple discrepancy.

Why not just give my extra biology textbook to Edward? He could even get ownership buy-in by working for it. With this thinking in mind, last week Edward and I walked home from school together and I mentioned my idea of having him cut the grass around my house (i.e. cutting the grass is done with a machete and yes, this as time consuming and labor intensive as you are imagining it to be). In exchange for this work I’d give him the textbook. He lit up. With a big smile on his face, he said he’d change as soon as he got home and would get to work on the grass. But then, as we neared our houses and walked by the primary school built as a gift by the late Muammar Qaddafi, Edward solemnly said, “Mr. Clarke, I can’t take the textbook”. I looked at him baffled, not sure what he meant and could think of no reason why he couldn’t take the book. I assured him it was fine to take it; it would be his. Then he reminded me that his house doesn’t have a door or any bars on the windows. “Someone will find out I have it and will come in a take it”.

Thus far, since I’ve been in Liberia, I’ve had my camera stolen from my home, cash stolen from my pocket and my two-day old coal stove stolen from my back step. But, what’s different about Liberia and my concerns about having “stuff” stolen is not just about thieves living around the area. People get cameras, cash and even grills stolen in Albuquerque and Richmond, Virginia, and just about every other place I’ve ever lived; that’s not different. I don’t think it’s all about a level of desperation that stems from poverty either. While 95% of Liberians live on less than $2 a day*, I saw much more abject poverty in Uganda without the constant threat of stuff walking off; I don’t think that’s the difference either. Perhaps some would call it a sense of assumed entitlement. I know some Liberians who would call it a burden of family obligation – being expected to give windfalls to those around you if and when you do get ahead in the game of life. Everyone wants his or her time to eat and if your family member or friend is eating, he or she is obligated to give up some of the food.  This not only makes it hard to get ahead, but I can imagine that it cuts down on motivation. I like to think that I’m a generous guy, but if I knew that my hard work would result in someone else getting much of the benefit, I don’t think I’d be as excited about going that extra mile.

At the risk of oversimplifying what is undoubtedly a very complex phenomenon and at the risk of misapplying a standard term generally reserved for natural resources management, I believe an important difference gets boiled down to a parallel of the classic Tragedy of the Commons. The Tragedy of the Commons is what pushed sheep farmers to overgraze the once productive grasslands of the Southwest, leaving those grasslands a hundred years later to be a pathetic reminder of the economic and biological wonder that they used to be, and still could be if they had been utilized properly. Stretching the concept a bit, the Tragedy of the Commons could also help explain why it took nearly a year, 2 engineers, 2 policy makers and one frustrated state employee to install a bike rack on state (i.e. common) property. Tragedy of the Commons is alive and well in the world. And here in Liberia it affects not only issues of natural resources but it also seeps into everything as effectively as this dry season’s harmattan dust that coats both my Kindle and my lungs.

Harmattan dust (photo from the Brother Paul Noonan Formation Centre, Tamale, Ghana)

When I first told people I would be heading to Liberia to take up the chalk in a room full of students who have missed much of their education (schools were closed during many of the war years and would-be teachers and students alike were hiding, running and/or trying -or failing, to survive), I was generally asked soon afterwards about how they could help. Accordingly, many generous people offered up their textbooks for me to take.

Textbooks in Liberia are a big deal and are in extremely short supply. But, just to be clear, I have 143 10^th grade biology students and I’d guess about 5 of them actually have a textbook. I also have 163 11^th grade chemistry students. As far as I can tell, maybe 10 of them have a textbook. After poking around Monrovia a bit, I learned of an outside market area where every morning, people somehow make 100’s of textbooks and a scattering of old classics appear out of nowhere. Many of the classics are generally bootlegged with misspelled words, missed punctuation and/or smeared printing. The textbooks are all used. Many will tell you the American school that the book was retired from if you look in the front cover. Others are stamped with “Not For Sale” or “For Evaluation Purposes Only”. For $30, I picked up a used teachers addition chemistry book (Mississippi edition) and a use biology text (formerly used in Mesa Verdi by 9 different students between 2002 and 2009 including one Mr. Goodenough in 2009 who made a note to inform me that there is a tear on page 127 – implying that the said tear was not his doing).

I want my students to have textbooks. My students want to have textbooks. Liberia’s Ministry of Education wants their students to have textbooks. And, clearly there’s even enough money from one source or another to actually buy books. But the students don’t have textbooks. In full disclosure, my school does have a small library and this small library, while dominated by donated used novels that will never be read by Edward or any of these students, it does have a set of Britannica Encyclopedias (circa the hippy age) and even some textbooks. Students can and do utilize these textbooks but there are serious limitations. For example, my biology students will be using these texts tomorrow as part of the homework they’ll learn about in the morning. But, the library can only comfortably hold about 6 people at any one time which means there will actually be up to 20 at any one time. With about 150 biology students the math is not in their favor. It works, but only in a better-than-nothing sort of way.

Edward will most likely never overcome the limitation of not having a biology textbook and the many other hurtles that are part of everyday school life in Liberia to become the next Stephen Jay Gould or Edward O. Wilson, yet I’m optimistic about Edward. He’s smart, hard working, motivated, funny and good-natured. He’ll continue to make Liberia a better place for himself, his family, and his community and I suppose for Liberia for that matter. Edward will make it. But those seemingly simple discrepancies still disturb me. I know they disturb him too; how could they not? It’s those discrepancies that are all too common and all too tragic.

*World Bank data from 2007, last year data was available.