Henry Mamadi Mamulu Speedy A BOOK EXCERPT FROM, The Calm Before the Storm The American/Liberian Republican culture was ultra-conservative. This culture loved music but despised musicians. Citizens played sports but did not become professional athletes. Because I was a musician and played soccer, I was virtually blacklisted from any kind of employment that the Liberian government handled. The American/Liberian hegemony frowned upon their children who endeavored to make a living from sports and the arts. Those of us who pursued our talents in sports and music beyond high school were not respected. As a result, a considerable proportion of the populace lived unfulfilled and unrewarding lives. The movement that finally brought down the American/Liberian/Congo hegemony was born at the University of Liberia, and it was not a movement driven by physical forces, but rather by ideas. During the 1970s, every philosophy from that of Mao Tse-Tung, Fidel and Che, Mohammed, Baha'i, to Lawana Christian Fellowship jockeyed for the intellectual consciousness of the Liberian intelligentsia at the University of Liberia. As usual, there was a great divide on what students believed based on their ethnicity and social standing. Three student organizations vied to determine the destiny of Liberians at the University of Liberia. The Student Democratic Party (SDP) led by James Skippy Cooper and Keturah York were called "reactionaries." They seemed to want things to remain the way they were. They were nice and decent people, but politically exciting as a rain shower on a hot day.   The standard bearers of the All Students Allied Party (ASAP) were James Ounzuba Cooper and Ian Yhap. Ounzuba, who was also called James, was dark-skinned. All through the elitist College of West Africa (CWA), he was joked about not being a real Cooper. The real Coopers were supposed to be fair-skinned as Skippy was. James Cooper then changed his name to Ounzuba and got away from the whole skin color mess. Ian Yhap was mixed-race. His father, a Japanese, was born in England and had married into the McClain family in Liberia. The McClains were first cousins to the Tolberts. ASAP was a middle of the road party that tried to bridge the gap between American/Liberian/Congo and indigenous Liberians. ASAP was more of a flip than a flop. But the political platform of ASAP sought to heal the rift between Congo and indigenous students. However, the party was detrimental to SDP and therefore the establishment, because SDP had the approval of the True Whig Party. ASAP divided the American/Liberian/Congo bloc at a time when it was fighting for its very life. The enemy that the establishment faced was united and unsympathetic and took no prisoners. Therefore, to negotiate and compromise, as Ounzuba and Ian wanted to do, was suicidal. Next was the Student Unification Party (SUP) with Conmany Wesseh. This was the indigenous student party. It was angry, uncompromising, bent on raising Cain and destruction and was totally united. Almost every student of indigenous persuasion and sympathy belonged to SUP. They were mad as hell and were not going to take it anymore. One afternoon in 1975, a group of Congo children were gathered on the verandah of the Liberal Arts building while a group of indigenous students looked on from across the courtyard. A discussion broke out among the Congo students about whose father had stolen the most. It was election month and here the group destined to leadership in Liberia was committing political suicide at the University of Liberia, wallowing in and celebrating their parents' sins. The indigenous children across the yard pretended not to listen, but their eyes gleamed with hatred for these spoiled Congo children. Ironically, the throng of Congo students disparaged Agustus Roberts, younger brother of Togba Nah Tipoteh. They said to Agustus, "Your father was stupid. He had the chance to steal good money from Finance and he didn't." Then they all laughed. I thought that it was a good thing that Mr. Roberts was not a thief. Somehow, in the warped mindset that was Liberia, bad had become good and the good something to laugh at. One week before elections, I observed the niece of the president, and another student whose uncle was the personal bodyguard to Mrs. Tolbert, holding court with some indigenous students. I did not care, anyway, about the outcome of things at the university or nationally. As a musician and political pariah, whoever was in power, Country or Congo, would have been prejudiced against me, because I dared to operate outside of the box. As much as the so-called countryman hated the American/Liberian/Congo class, the indigenous man was just as conservative, if not even moreso, than the group they disliked. Traditionally, the indigenous were not socially progressive and tended not to mix well with others who thought differently. However, the young ladies told me that they helped the enemies of their people because every Liberian deserved a chance to descend the social ladder. I was impressed. I thought there was hope for us yet. During the debates for President of the student body, SUP pulled off the first volley to end the True Whig Party rule. This was how significant the election had become, with dire implications of national proportions. There was an elementary school near the gas station in Loma Quarters on Camp Johnson Road. SUP brought the students from that school to the debate. It was illegal because the debate was only open to ID carrying university students. Politically, however, it was brilliant. The school that these children went to was called Gas School because it sat next to a BP Gas station. The school stopped at the fifth grade. About 1:30 in the afternoon, SUP illegally took these children out from classes and majestically marched them into the auditorium of the University of Liberia. The first couple of rows of seats were reserved for them. Every statement the American/Liberian/Congo students made, these elementary students booed vehemently. Every single thing SUP said, they applauded gloriously. This drove Conmany Wesseh into oratory frenzy. He denounced to thunderous applause everything that was Liberian before that debate. SUP won the debate and eventually the election. Conmany Wesseh became Student Government President at LU. He was the first pure indigenous Liberian to hold that position and he had defeated James Skippy Cooper —"the true Cooper"—and Ian Yhap, nephew of the president. The die was cast. From that time onward, I believe, only Kwame Clement who ran as an independent in the mid-80s usurped the rule of SUP, which also reflected the tone of Liberian internal politics. The university had become a place where students were lectured and practiced how to advocate for free speech and regime change by professors such as Amos Sawyer and Henry Boima Fahnbulleh. Outside of the university, the True Whig Party tried to reinvent itself as a political entity in tune with the reality that was Liberia in the mid-1970s. In 1977, Liberia's ruling and only political party, the True Whig Party, held the first internal elections since 1955. The candidates for Junior Senator from Montserrado County were Councilors MacDonald Acolatse and Jimmy Bull. Charles Levi Martin, David Garnett and I worked as fundraisers during this election. David and Charles worked for Councilor Bull's campaign. He was a part of the establishment, safe and not controversial. MacDonald Acolatse, like Grandpa Bannerman, who saved Liberia from sanctions during the King and Yancy administrations, was a Popo man. They were derogatorily called "Down the Coasters" by the American/Liberians because they came from countries on the coast of West Africa, namely, Ghana and Burkina Faso. Councilor MacDonald Acolatse, whom I worked for, had a reputation of saying what he interpreted as the truth, and this did not endear him to the system. As a lawyer, he also defended, but the Tolbert government liked prosecutors. How do I know the Tolbert government liked prosecutors? After we performed the drama, "Deeds Not Words", the president invited the cast to breakfast with him at the Bensonville estate. He asked everybody who they were and what was their dream. I stood next to a young law student who was also a musician. President Tolbert asked her who she was. She introduced herself and the president said he knew her mother. She told the president she was a law student. He asked a simple loaded question that halted all the cabinet members and friends gathered that morning. The president asked, "Do you want to prosecute or defend?" The room went eerily silent and everyone paid attention to the exchange. If she defended, she supported opposition to the True Whig Party. But if she prosecuted, she was for the country. She chose her answer wisely and said, "Prosecute, of course." The entire contingent of officials gathered laughed approvingly in unison. When the president asked what I wanted, I told him, "Nothing." About a month into the True Whig Party's internal election in 1977, I went to the Anderson Funeral Home to see MacDonald Anderson, who had come home for summer vacation from America. The entire crew was there to see "Bom," as we called him. Up came Bom's childhood friend, Ijoma Flemister. Ijoma's family migrated to Liberia during President King's era through the deal with Marcus Garvey. Politically conservative, as required, with one lazy eye, Ijoma was simply brilliant. He was a prime candidate for greatness in Liberia. Ijoma said, "Bom, guess what? The True Whig Party called me today and said that they will make me Junior Senator." Bom was as surprised as I was, but the twist was, Ijoma had not announced a candidacy, and had not campaigned for any position. I was devastated because I had been campaigning vociferously for Councilor Acolatse. I had believed the president when he spoke about the New Liberian and how he must fear only to do wrong. I was sold on his slogan, Total Involvement for Higher Heights. Why had President Tolbert, a Baptist minister, have the True Whig Party spend thousands of dollars on a "democratic campaign" when what they wanted was favoritism? How could Ijoma have accepted something he had not earned? The two hundred and fifty dollars I collected as contributions to the camp of Acolatse, I went to the bar and drank one hundred dollars. Boy, was I disappointed and parched. Ijoma became Junior Senator and was put in charge of youth activities. David Garnett was rewarded for his work and made his assistant. Me, I got squat. I guess they must have heard that I drank campaign funds. Excerpted from The Calm Before the Storm by Henry Mamadi Mamulu Copyright © 2007 Henry Mamadi Mamulu Henry Mamadi Mamulu