To the everlasting memory of Albert Philip Bruno-Gaston

   Dad  
was snatched away suddenly one bright Christmas  morning.
The lessons I learnt from him and continue to learn from
my Mum, have, and will always hold me in good stead.
This is but a small tribute to such a big man.
A wonderful, kind and patient Father.
My very own Fallen Hero

The 3 Seasons

In Sierra Leone, there are 3 seasons.
The Dry season - a time when the King, the Sun, showed his power.
Coming out during the day to burn relentlessly on the Arrogant and the Innocent. 
The Innocent - the plants and flowers would bravely remain quiet and poised until one day, in sheer desperation, wither and die.
The Arrogant - man, would strip off his clothes and face him defiantly.
But the Master of the season always won.
As he slowly settled down for the night, he would take one last look and smile as the Arrogant moaned in pain from the blisters inflicted or collapse onto his dinner plate, giving in completely until the next time…..

The Rainy season - the time of Rebirth.
A time that brought new life wherever you looked.
I still remember what it was like when the first rains came:
You could hear a 'rushing' sound as the rain started falling in the distance, the sound would get louder as it got closer and change from 'rushing' to a loud 'pounding' - many a time have I seen the puzzled look on strangers faces as they tried to fathom out what the noise was.
All of a sudden the pounding would become almost deafening, followed by a few scattered drops of rain the size of a baby's hand. They really were huge.
The pounding would then start to fade as the rain bore down on its next victim and change to a steady drumming on the roof.
The raindrops would get smaller and then all of a sudden there would be a rush of the smell of vegetation as the parched earth drank deeply from the cup of Mother Nature.
Within a couple of days, new shoots would tentatively start pushing their heads through the damp soil.
It was Truly Wonderous!

The Harmattan season was another favourite of mine - unlike many people.
It was a time of pain and smells.
It started around November until January/February. A cool wind would start
blowing in from the Sahara , which made it difficult to breathe because it was so dry. We used to have to put petroleum jelly in our nostrils to keep them from hurting. We also used to have to moisturise our skin as it used to dry up and crack - Alligator skin is the phrase that springs to mind!
But the reason I liked the Harmattan was because as long as you were
protected against the elements, it was a time of smells!
In November, you could smell the heat waning and smell the dryness coming in from somewhere far far away.
In December, you could smell paint as the house was spruced up in preparation for the 25th. As the smell of the paint died away, the smell of Christmas would start........now, that was a wonderful smell....it is almost impossible to describe, but close your eyes and picture this:
'Hope', 'Joy', 'Faith' 'Laughter', 'Excitement' and 'Family' all lovingly
packed into a beautiful jar with a silk ribbon around it.
Now, pull the ribbon off and slowly lift the lid and take a deep breath!
That's what it smelt like!
Heaven on Earth!

A Brief History of Sierra Leone
Sierra Leone is a small land on the west coast of Africa, located near the equator.
Its economy is mainly based on mining (bauxite and diamonds) and the production of coffee and cocoa beans.
Contact with Europe (among the first in West Africa) goes back to 1462, when the explorer Pedro de Sintra discovered the country and gave it the Portuguese name of Sierra Lyoa, or “Lion Mountains.”
Sierra Leone was an important post for the trade in slaves between Africa and North America.
In the 17th century, British traders dislodged the Portuguese and in 1787, Britain established the settlement of Freetown, now the capital, as a refuge for freed slaves.
 Sierra Leone became a British colony in 1808 and gained independence on 27th April 1961, joining the Commonwealth, and on 19th April 1971 it became a republic.
Sierra Leone was once the educational centre of British West Africa. Fourah Bay College, established in 1827, attracted many English-speaking Africans, and for over a century, was the only European-style university in western Sub-Saharan Africa.
A horrifying revolution, waged by the Revolutionary United Front (RUF), has left close to 100,000 dead. Warring parties have deliberately amputated the limbs of thousands of people, including small children.
Over 3 million Sierra Leoneans have since been displaced by the war; of which, more than 60 percent are children.
Less than 25% of combatants have surrendered their weapons in accordance with the disarmament program and very few of the 10,000 children abducted by the rebel armies have been returned.
The situation remains centred around diamonds, with some of the diamond regions remaining in the control of the RUF.
Many Sierra Leoneans would like to believe that the country is still a Work In Progress, but would agree that our patience is being severely tested.

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