The Whole Country is Camping

Like many developing countries, Sierra Leone doesn’t have a consistent supply of electricity. Rebels destroyed the power infrastructure during the country’s brutal 11-year civil war as a way to disable communication between communities about their activities. Every year, the government makes very grand promises about bringing 24-hour electricity to the capital, Freetown. This year, the date for 24-hour power was in April, but that day came and went with little notice from the general public, I’m told. The government failing to keep their promises about upgrading infrastructure is nothing new and they apparently make the same promise every year. So, regular citizens continue to burn kerosene lanterns at night and the rich continue to run their generators, and people cope with the sporadic supply of electricity.

I live in Bo, the country’s second biggest city, where we’re supposed to have more reliable electricity during the rainy season. We’re powered by a hydroelectric dam in this area, so it makes sense to me when they say we’ll have 24-hours of power when the rainy season arrives. Well, the rainy season has pretty much arrived and we still go for five or six day stretches without any power at all. When we do get power, it’s an hour or two in the morning, when it’s really not needed. At first I was surprised and a little disappointed but slowly, I’ve just adapted to the situation.

Family and some friends laughed at me when I told them I’d be living in a country without stable electricity or running water. “It’s like the whole country is camping,” I said. This is funny, of course, because I hate camping. But I grew up in Vancouver, on the west coast of Canada, where it rains constantly. Every memory I have of camping involves sitting around a campfire with my Girl Guides troop, soaking wet, shivering and crying. For me, camping has to have a point. If all I am going to do is sit around, drink beer, get drenched and eat burnt hot dogs, I usually elect to stay home. I was willing to “camp” in Sierra Leone, because I believe in the importance of the work I’m doing.

Of course, I’m not entirely without electricity. We bought a generator and usually run in for three hours at night. Gas for three hours costs 14,800 Leones, which is about $5 Canadian. I use the three hours to charge my laptop and my cell phone and do anything important at home that requires good light. Chris and I sit in the living room, glued to our laptops, and enjoy the large fan we have set up. When we turn on our porch light, the neighbourhood kids come to sit under it and do their homework. Around 11 p.m., we’ll hear the generator started to sputter and rattle, letting us know we only have a little bit of time left. When the gas runs out, that’s usually a sign we should go to bed, but I often grab my headlamp (an extremely useful gift from my dad) and do some reading. But first I climb under my mosquito net, or else bugs attracted to the headlamp start smacking me in the face.

But no generator at night means we sleep without fans or air conditioning (not that we have air conditioning in the apartment). If the rumours about more stable power during the rainy season are true, I will relish the opportunity to sleep with a massive fan six inches from my face.