Treading the Untrodden Path: The Case of a Disabled (Blind) Pioneer in Sierra Leone (Sequel to Lighting the Darkness)

By Frederick Kamara

In my first book, Lighting the Darkness (2020), I tried to tell the story of my life: from childhood, as a blind child growing up in a traditional rural environment, to the day in 1972 on which I received the letter of appointment as Social Development Officer in the then Ministry of Social Welfare. With that, I became the first blind person (and for that matter, the first person with a disability) to enter Sierra Leone’s civil service.

In this book, I try to share my experiences in the Sierra Leone civil service and other fields of life. I talk about obstacles I have encountered on the way and how I have tried to overcome them, always bearing in mind the motto of my alma mater, the Milton Margai School for the Blind. That is: “We cannot see, but we will conquer!”

My determination to conquer any obstacle has always influenced my aspirations in life. Another saying that I have always tried to follow is: “Perseverance wins!”

I have faced many problems in life, but thanks be to God, they have never been of an insurmountable nature, apart from the most untimely deaths of my first wife, Makalay; our son, Frederick; and more recently, my younger brother, Bob.

I have also enjoyed a number of successes and many good times, including traveling all over the world, meeting wonderful people, and gaining a great deal of experience.

As a pioneer in work for, by, and with persons with disabilities in Sierra Leone, I have always borne in mind that much is expected of me, and I have always tried to live up to those expectations. I leave it to posterity to judge whether or not I have succeeded in that.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Frederick Kamara
• Release date: Oct 11, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005209087

Book preview

Venturing into the Unknown

The road to success can be fraught with challenges and sometimes what may seem like insurmountable obstacles.

Introduction

In my first book, Lighting the Darkness (2020), I tried to tell the story of my life: from childhood, as a blind child growing up in a traditional rural environment, to the day in 1972 on which I received the letter of appointment as Social Development Officer in the then Ministry of Social Welfare. With that, I became the first blind person (and for that matter, the first person with a disability) to enter Sierra Leone’s civil service.

In this book, I try to share my experiences in the Sierra Leone civil service and other fields of life. I talk about obstacles I have encountered on the way and how I have tried to overcome them, always bearing in mind the motto of my alma mater, the Milton Margai School for the Blind. That is: We cannot see, but we will conquer!

My determination to conquer any obstacle has always influenced my aspirations in life. Another saying that I have always tried to follow is: Perseverance wins!

I have faced many problems in life, but thanks be to God, they have never been of an insurmountable nature, apart from the most untimely deaths of my first wife, Makalay; our son, Frederick; and more recently, my younger brother, Bob.

I have also enjoyed a number of successes and many good times, including traveling all over the world, meeting wonderful people, and gaining a great deal of experience.

As a pioneer in work for, by, and with persons with disabilities in Sierra Leone, I have always borne in mind that much is expected of me, and I have always tried to live up to those expectations. I leave it to posterity to judge whether or not I have succeeded in that.

Acknowledgements

I have many people to thank for the roles they have played (and some continue to play) in my life. I must start with a couple that I first met in 1990, Rene and John (commonly known as Bob) Bane, who have since continued to play a very pivotal role in my life (see Chapter 16).

Other people to whom I owe a great debt of gratitude for shaping my early life include my foster parents, the late Rev. Dr. Ajai Thomas and his wife, Aunty Annie; my godmother, Mrs. Ernestine Musu (Aunty Musu) Shyllon; and my godparents, Uncle Beal and Aunty Hannah Morgan, all of blessed memory.

I also owe much gratitude to the late Mrs. Marian Kamara and the late Mrs. Posseh Njai, who took me under their wings when I joined the Ministry of Social Welfare.

I wish to thank my brothers and sisters of the Sligo Creek Chapter of the National Federation of the Blind of Maryland, especially Judy, Debbie, Lloyd, Shawn, Tom, Pauline, and Yasmin, among others, who helped me a lot in various ways when I joined the organization in the late 1990s.

I also want to thank my former colleagues in the District of Columbia Public School System, especially Roxanne Richardson, Ketama Zeregaw, Rene Donalvo, and Ann Cleckley, who were great people to work with.

I wish to express special thanks to two family members. First is my brother, friend, and confidant, John Tarawali, who has always inspired me. Second is my nephew Samuel Kamara. Apart from having always been very special to me, Sam opened the door for me to enter the DC Public School System by informing me of a scholarship that existed for the training of special education teachers at George Washington University, and I seized that opportunity.

Finally, my special thanks and appreciation go to my Albert Academy Alumni Association family, especially members of the Washington DC Metropolitan Area Branch, who stood by me at a time when I really needed a helping hand.

F.J.M.K.

Part I

First Steps into the

Sighted Working World

Chapter 1

The New Dawn

Making crucial decisions was a particularly serious challenge for me. For instance, after I successfully passed the General Certificate of Education (GCE) Ordinary O level examination in September 1966, my former principal at the Albert Academy, Mr. Max Bailor, invited and encouraged me to do Sixth Form work at the school.

The Sixth Form was the class in which students were prepared over two academic years to enter university.

At the same time, the then Acting Principal of Fourah Bay College, Rev. Professor Harry Sawyer, offered me a place at that illustrious institution.

I turned down both offers.

I was doggedly bent on going overseas for higher studies. This was because I was very skeptical about the possibility of getting the relevant learning materials and equipment that I would need at Fourah Bay College, especially when I reflected on the problems my friend Moses and I faced at the Albert Academy with regard to getting the textbooks and other necessary materials available in braille or any other format accessible to the blind. In those days, recorded material was on open reels, then later on cassette tapes. It was thanks to the kindness and generosity of our teachers that we had some of our texts on tape, and some of our friends helped us copy notes after school.

With that in mind, I applied to the French Embassy for a scholarship to study comparative linguistics in France, as I had an excellent grade in French in the General Certificate of Education (GCE) Ordinary Level Examination. As such, I was strongly convinced that I would not face any problem getting a scholarship.

The idea of studying comparative linguistics was implanted in me by my French teacher at the Albert Academy, Mr. John Salter. He had convinced me that, with my mastery of both English and French, I would make it in the international world. I might even become an interpreter or translator at the United Nations. That made me even more determined to wait for the scholarship.

By doing this, I wasted two academic years.

Actually, it might be unfair to describe the one and a half academic years I spent teaching at my alma mater, the Milton Margai School for the Blind, as wasted time. It gave me the opportunity to gain some experience in leadership and organization, as I had to teach and supervise a number of students, a few of whom were about my age. In addition, I had to prepare lesson notes from Monday to Friday each week. My former headmaster and mentor, Mr. Sam Campbell, supervised and guided me through the process.

By early 1968, it had become obvious that I would not get the scholarship to France. This was because I refused to commit to teaching French when I returned home after I completed my studies in France. I told the French Chargé d’affaires—as there was no ambassador at the time—that I was not interested in teaching. I made it clear to him in no uncertain terms that I wanted to become an international interpreter or international lawyer instead. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back, as the saying goes.

By this time, I had already started making moves toward finally entering Fourah Bay College. In that regard, I got great support from the then Royal Commonwealth Society for the Blind (RCSB), now known as Sightsavers. My fears were allayed by the assurances of support from them. That gave me the confidence to enter FBC in October of 1968. Some of my experiences there are described in my first book, Lighting the Darkness (2020).

My experiences at the Albert Academy and FBC prepared me for subsequent entry into the working world of the sighted.

It began in September of 1972 when, at the beginning of the academic year, Mr. Bailor asked me to teach English to the class that was then known as the Special Five Class. This consisted of students who were repeating the Fifth Form. At the same time, Mrs. Bailor asked me to help her teach history to the Lower Sixth Form students.

It was both a challenge and a learning experience for me. In the first place, I was not a trained teacher, though I possessed the necessary knowledge to impart to my students. In spite of the fact that I did not have formal training, my experience as pupil/teacher at the Milton Margai School for the Blind a few years earlier gave me some confidence.

One big difference, though, was that at the School for the Blind, I dealt mostly with young children who were all blind or visually impaired. But the students at the Albert Academy were all sighted, and they were older teenagers who were preparing to enter college, university, or the workforce.

Another significant difference was that, at the School for the Blind, I taught elementary subjects like elementary English, arithmetic, elementary history, elementary geography, nature study (which was elementary science), and civics, which dealt with current events.

At the Albert Academy, I had to teach a specific subject to a specific class.

At the School for the Blind, I had braille materials and equipment to teach with, but at the Albert Academy, I had to teach from memory most of the time. At other times, I would type out material that I wanted the students to take down as notes. I would ask one of them to write the material on the blackboard for them to copy down, as photocopiers were not available back then.

I had taught for just about a month when I got the appointment to the position of Social Development Officer in the then Ministry of Social Welfare. There, I was put in charge of the newly established office responsible for the rehabilitation and job placement of the handicapped, now known as persons with disabilities.

When I reported at the headquarters of the Ministry of Social Welfare at Fort Street at about nine o’clock that Thursday morning, October 19, I was ushered up to the office of the professional head of the ministry, the Chief Social Development Officer, Mrs. Rosalind Ford. Her office was located on the second floor of the building.

Mrs. Ford welcomed me to the ministry. She then asked me to go down to the Chief Clerk, on the first floor, for some paperwork.

Among the many papers the Chief Clerk gave me were some medical forms that I was supposed to take to the Government Hospital for tests to prove that I was in good health. First, I had to go to Connaught Hospital, the government’s main hospital in Freetown, where I underwent examination by government doctors, and they did some tests. That took two days. On the third day, I was sent to the Hill Station Hospital for final tests and certification. That was the hospital where senior civil servants and the elites were treated.

After I completed the medical process and all other entry requirements, I reported for duty a few days later.

I was ushered into my office by a senior colleague, Alfred Sesay, whose office was next to mine. It was a medium–size room, about 12 by 15 feet, with an office desk and two chairs.

When I had appeared for the job interview with members of the Public Service Commission a couple of months earlier, I had made it abundantly clear that I would need an assistant to carry out my work. I explained why this was necessary, and the Commissioners accepted my explanation and endorsed it. Thus when I reported for duty, I was asked to recommend a candidate for the position.

As Mohamed Kallon, one of the two junior workers in the Institute of African Studies, had been particularly close and helpful to me, I asked him if he was interested in the job, and he said yes. Therefore, he was appointed my special assistant.

I got into the job without any job description or terms of reference. The onus of drawing up a job description and terms of reference fell on my shoulders. This was because, over the previous couple of years, I had started advocating for the establishment of an office that should be responsible for the rehabilitation and job placement of persons with disabilities.

That idea was strongly supported by my sponsors at the Royal Commonwealth Society for the Blind. In fact, it was through their influence that the idea was bought and implemented, leading to my subsequent appointment and being put in charge of that office.

With the help of Mr. Sam Campbell, Mr. Jonathan Edowu Hyde, and some friends who had been in the civil service a year or two before me, as well as members of the RCSB, I was able to put together something that was to guide me in my work.

My responsibilities were many. Among them were the following: Exploring the possibilities and opportunities for training persons with disabilities in suitable skills that would make them employable. Writing to establishments that I considered to be potential employing authorities and explaining to them how competent, efficient, and valuable persons with disabilities could be in any job situation for which they were qualified. Visiting factories and other business places and talking to their management about the possibility of employing suitably qualified persons with disabilities. And so on.

Unfortunately my boss, the Chief Social Development Officer, did not seem to know or understand what my duties or responsibilities were supposed to be. This became evident to me one morning a couple of months after I had started working, when I had an encounter with her at the top of the stairs on the first floor. I was heading for my office, together with my special assistant, while she was going downstairs.

Kamara! she called out to me. Why are you still here? Why are you not in some factory demonstrating how blind people can work there?

I was stunned. I didn’t know how to respond. I just mumbled something under my breath and then assured her that I would go later.

In the meantime, I kept wondering why she had to attack me that way. Indeed, it was more an attack than a mere question. Her tone of voice conveyed that impression to me, and my assistant confirmed to me later that her facial expression was none too pleasant. This gave me the idea to look for an opportunity to have a tête–à–tête with her and explain my position to her.

The fact that she had called me by my last name without prefixing it with Mister was an indication that she did not have much respect for me as a senior officer. One of my colleagues who had witnessed the occurrence later confided in me that he, too, was shocked at the way the boss had addressed me. I’m sure she wouldn’t address even a junior worker that way in public, he added.

That made me think that the only possible reason why she did that was because I was blind. Persons with disabilities in general, and blind people in particular, were not considered to deserve respect.

Up to that time, apart from Mr. Sam Campbell, Headmaster of the Milton Margai School for the Blind, no person with a disability had held any responsible public position in the entire country of Sierra Leone. The place of those with disabilities was assumed to be out on