Give to Give No More

Never before has a crisis asked so much of us

Every day we live to see more of its loss

And as we live

We are all asked to give

It has asked of us money

And yes money has been given

Given by so many

And they would still give if they have any

Sometimes even from people who are themselves desperate

Desperate and need help to lift their own spirits

But the experts say it may be too late

If we all continue to wait

It has asked of us supplies

Food relief and medical supplies

And see

See what has been coming just to stop this malaise

It has asked of us hope

But for some say they have reached the end of the rope

They say they have nothing more to give

Except to flee if they have some place else to live

It has asked of us blood

Blood to give to the sick

And those who are really sick and so close

To the edge of the abyss

But who else

Who else can we ask for this?

But those who have been rescued

Rescued from the blazing furnace of this thing that has no cure

Then it has asked of us life

Precious, precious life

So many have already been taken

Left behind are desperate husbands, wives and hopeless children

But who else

Who is willing to lay down life that we may stop the dying?

For this disease it is those on the frontline

They are our courageous health workers, nurses and doctors who stay even when others are denying.

One day when this thing is over

We will all sit and wonder


What else could have asked so much of us if not the deadly Ebola?

…A poem By Boakai Golafale written on 11 October 2014. I was inspired to write this from just one day of experience while living in this country during this deadly Ebola outbreak. From this crisis I know that crisis bring out the best and worst in humanity. This is a glaring testimony. In the morning of this day, I was privileged to be in a meeting where a medical doctor testified that he was alive only by the grace of God. He said that three weeks earlier he and his medical staff had diagnosed and treated a patient that had later died of Ebola like symptoms. The death of that patient had triggered the death of the three medical assistants and a chain of related deaths and infections amounting to six in total. On the same day I was informed that a close friend from high school now a doctor was struggling for his life in an Ebola treatment unit at JFK. Surprisingly in the afternoon on this day while doing shopping in a Gas Station Mini Mart, I came across two young Liberians who were discussing that if a ship or plane could dock right now in Monrovia (that was leaving) for the U.S. or Europe they would leave Liberia and never come back.

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