Liberia: Tribute to the Late Prof. Dr. Amos Claudius Sawyer

Augustine Kpehe Ngafuan

Between late 1990 and early 1992, nearly all members of my family, including myself, sought safety from the horrors of the Liberian Civil War in Fagonda Town, our home village in Wanhassa District, formerly a part of Kolahun District, in Lofa County. My aunt, Ma Molley, a rice and sugar cane farmer, hosted most of us at the family house located at the front edge of the town. I impressed my aunt and many of the townsfolk by how quickly I adapted to the rigors of village life. Whether it was helping to brush and prepare the snake-laden swamp for the planting of rice; or helping to cut, tote, and grind bundles of sugar cane at the sugar cane mill near Bolahun, or some other laborious bush work, I put in my best effort with vigor and punctuality.

But there were days during this period that I would put in an excuse to leave town late or return to town very early. Those were days when Prof. Dr. Amos Claudius Sawyer, President of the Interim Government of National Unity (IGNU), was scheduled to address the nation. Dr. Sawyer’s speeches and press conferences were usually broadcast on short wave at 7.275 megahertz on ELBC. I would listen to the erudite statesman via the very powerful shortwave radio receiver owned by Paramount Chief James Lombeh, who lived two houses away from our house in Fangonda. Alternatively, I would walk to nearby Massabolahun Town to listen via a similarly powerful radio receiver owned by local businessman Sekou Sangah. The sixty-year-old businessman who had struck a strong friendship with me loved sharing his frustration over the country's evolving political and military situation. And as he did so, he also tried to impress me with his English-speaking skills, although the English he spoke could rightly be described as an English-Gbandi remix. 

Listening to Dr. Sawyer speak was an opportunity to learn sound logic, deep philosophy, and excellent English grammar and diction at the same time. His elocution, eloquence, rhyme, and rhythm were superbly palatable and mesmerizing. In a way, the time I spent listening to Dr. Sawyer left me empowered and filled with hope at a time of deep hopelessness. It was also one way that I restored some of the time the locusts had eaten from my educational sojourn, having had my schooling as a freshman at the University of Liberia disrupted in April 1990 or thereabouts when the escalating Liberian Civil War led to the suspension of classes at the University.

In the fullness of time, the Omniscient Creator would be kind enough to bring me into several close and personal interactions with this venerated intellectual icon. These engagements with Dr. Sawyer heightened when I served as President of the University of Liberia Student Union (ULSU) from June 1998 to February 2000 and as Budget Director, Minister of Finance, and Minister of Foreign Affairs of Liberia from 2006 to 2015. My bond with Dr. Sawyer waxed even stronger when he joined me in private life after his admirable service to our dear nation as Chairperson of the Governance Commission. No longer regimented by the hectic work schedule that public service imposed, Dr. Sawyer and I would usually meet one-on-one for hours in his private office up Broad Street or have lunch at Boulevard Palace Hotel.  

On my four-day visit to Liberia in July last year, I spent one of my most memorable moments with Dr. Sawyer at his Caldwell residence. He had returned to Liberia a few months earlier to continue his recovery from brain surgery and appeared frail and had to be assisted by a male aide to his living room where I sat waiting for him.  His face lit with rays of joy when he saw me and then smiled broadly with that infectious and disarming trademark smile of his, which was one of the most effective tools in his diplomatic toolbox.

As I went over to hug and help him to the cushion chair, he said, “Hey Ngaf, I am so happy that you could come over to see me. Congratulations on the new job and for making us proud. How is Kampala?” (Dr. Sawyer had graciously served as one of my references when I was competing for my current position with the African Development Bank).

For more than two hours, we had productive discussions on a host of issues of national, continental, and global significance, and our perspectives were aligned on almost all the issues. Oftentimes when he and I met, I would deliberately ask a question that would take our lectures down memory lane to his days as Interim President of Liberia. And he would volunteer some very insightful details or perspectives that gave me a deeper and fuller appreciation of the complex issues and challenges he confronted at the time and the valuable lessons that could be gleaned therefrom. Though not too strong physically, he remained mentally and intellectually robust and incisive. 

This interaction at his residence and many other previous personal interactions I had with him, including our 3-hour conversation in the lobby of Sheraton Hotel in Addis Ababa in 2013 after a tiring day of meetings at the African Union headquarters, only accentuated the truth in the adage that an hour of conversation with a wise man is worth more than ten years of study in the library. 

At the end of our meeting at his residence, I asked the erudite Professor to take a picture with him, and he gladly obliged. He then insisted that he would escort me to the porch on my way out despite my reluctance out of concern for his physical condition. Clutching onto his walking aid, he took a few slow, difficult steps while I walked right beside him.   When we reached the porch, he looked me straight in the eyes and patted my shoulder, and said, “Safe travels to East Africa. Let’s do this again whenever you are back in town.” And I replied, “Certainly, we will.”

But painfully, that commitment to meet again was a commitment between two mere mortals. The Omniscient Creator and the Ultimate Timekeeper would eventually have His say. So, on that fateful 16^th day of February 2022, the Ultimate Timekeeper called Prof. Dr. Amos Claudius Sawyer up yonder and dispatched the angels to escort his gentle soul to the land of eternal bliss. When I received the sad news of the passing of Dr. Sawyer, I looked at the pictures I had taken with him last July, and tears began to well up in my eyes.

Tears trickled down my cheeks not only because our dear country had lost an intellectual, academic, and professional Colossus, but I personally had lost a good friend, someone whose friendship did not recognize age, religious, national, racial, tribal, political, or other differences.  

No book can have enough pages to capture the innumerable contributions Dr. Sawyer made to Liberia, to Africa, and to the world. Dr. Sawyer led the crafting of the Liberian Constitution, the Code of Conduct for Liberian Public Officials, and many other instruments that helped to promote democracy and good governance in Liberia. At a very young age, he was prepared to risk his life along with other like-minded compatriots so that good, democratic governance could live in Liberia. Such was Dr. Sawyer’s multi-dimensional qualities that he had the intestinal fortitude to speak the plain truth even with bullets to his breast and the diplomatic dexterity to “tell a fool to go to hell in such a way that the fool would avidly look forward to the trip.”

Just hearing Dr. Sawyer speak made many a struggling kid in West Point, Fissebu, Forquelleh, Saclepea, Butaw, Pleebo, and elsewhere to long to “know book”.  

Now, Prof. Dr. Amos Claudius Sawyer, a man of erudition and eloquence, a man of wit and grit, an intellectual of no mean stature, I consider myself extremely lucky to have had the ennobling privilege of crossing your path and counting myself as one of your friends. As the legion of progressive comrades who predeceased you convene a special Palava Hut Session to warmly welcome you into their blessed ranks, we, the comrades on this other side of the Great River, salute, and shout “Amandla!”