There were five of us when we met that day on Carey Street. Losene Bamba, Musa Bility and his brother Sekou Bility, myself, and Foday Donzo. We had launch together at Musa’s mother’s room in a house on Carey Street. The war that was being labeled as the “Nimba Crisis” was spreading fast beyond Nimba County. Most of us thought that it would just come and go just like other crises in the past. Since the military came to power in 1980, there had always been one crisis after another. Some of them we thought the government made them up in order to get rid of its opponents.

The same way we rode through those crises, we thought we could ride through this growing “Nimba Crisis.” While we were all in the crisis-thinking-mode and hoping that it would be alright once Taylor captured Doe and vice versa, everything would fall back into place. Contrary to this thinking, the news we were hearing from the frontlines in Nimba and elsewhere were different. People were fleeing in their thousands into Guinea or Ivory Coast. In Monrovia, we could see people climbing on trucks leaving for either Guinea or Sierra Leone.

As the news of the rebel advances spread, and the fact that our ethnic group, Mandingo was being targeted by the rebels, the five of us vowed not to leave Liberia under any condition, saying that Liberia was our country and no one would drive us out of there. It was around the time President Doe met the Mandingo Community and acknowledged that the Mandingoes were indeed citizens just like any other Liberians.

To the best of our understanding, President Doe was telling the Liberians something they should have already known. This statement was not a relief for the beleaguered Mandingo community as it was misinterpreted to mean that President Doe made “Mandingoes citizens.” We heard phrases like the "1990 citizens going home." In the face of that hostility, I and my friends were been defiant when we vowed not leaving Liberia to go anywhere.

Of the five of us that vowed not to leave Monrovia under any condition, only three stay behind while Sekou Bility and I ended up Guinea and Ivory Coast respectively. Musa, Foday, and Bamba stay. Sekou was the first to leave. His mother said that she was not going to leave without him and he had no choice. That meeting was the last time I saw him before our reunion some years later in Monrovia.

When Sekou left, it didn't take too long for me to leave. My decision to leave Monrovia, indeed Liberia, was motivated by the sad news I had heard about my cousin, Samuka Sherif (Sam Pepper). It was said that he was killed by some of his own friends who had joined the rebels. I began to imagine the same thing happening to me. I had enjoyed very good friendship with a lot of Gio and Mano friends who I attended schools with. First, I could not be convinced that any of those friends would do any harm to me. I had not done anything personally to any of them that would cause them to kill me.

But hearing how my cousin Sheriff’s best friends fooled him and took him away gave me the second thought. Even if my Gio and Mano friends may want to protect me, what about some of their friends who may want to harm me or kill me while my friends were away? These were the questions that were on my mind as I convinced myself to leave Liberia. It was some months later we learnt that my cousin Sheriff was not killed as we had been let to believe. Some Good Samaritan saved his life.

As Sekou and I left for Guinea, Musa, Foday, Bamba stay in Monrovia. Of the three of them, only Bamba did not survive the war. Musa and Foday survived. Today, Musa and his brother Sekou are doing well in Monrovia. Home boy Foday Donzo (Dr. Dee) is doing well in Abidjan, Ivory Coast, and yours truly is over here in the City of Brotherly Love.

Bamba was living in Chicken Farm, Jacob's Town when the rebels over-ran the place. Musa lived in the same area too. Some how, Musa managed to reach Central Monrovia while Bamba ended up behind the rebel line. He was in the company of some good friends with whom he felt safe and protected. While he enjoyed the company and trust of his friends, some of their friends came and took him away. According to what we have heard so far, he pleaded for the understanding of his capturers, making them to understand that "this was our revolution." His capturers won't hear any of those from him. As far they were concerned, Bamba was just another Mandingo person that did not deserve to live.

Over the years, whenever those of us from Saclepea meet, we always talk about Losene Bamba and other people who did not survive the war. Losene was a smart young man and from the way he used to carry himself, he had a very promising future ahead of him. He was one of the shining stars among us. We all believed that he was very well exposed socially and politically. He was very likeable. You could tell this by the company of friends he kept. One time Baccus Mathew, UPP Chairman, visited Saclepea; he was seen with Bamba and we were told that he slept at his (Bamba) place. That became a talk of town. That's the Bamba those of us that know him are missing as we continue to talk about him.

In my book of poetry, “Going to War for America,” I have a poem titled, Losene Bamba. This poem was written during my refugee days in Abidjan, Ivory Coast as a tribute to him. The emotional feeling expressed in the poem is deep. All of us that knew Losene Bamba feel this way about him because we truly miss him. At one time or another, we all can imagine where Bamba would have been today if he had survived the war.

Oh Allah, I see the sky falling on me,

I see the wall tumbling down to burry me,

Do you understand how deep is my feeling

Of this invading calamity?

I am feeling terribly hunted,

As the gun men zero-in on me

While my comrade on the march for progress

Has become another statistic of the invading madness.

Who is the crazy gun man,

Shooting in the day light sky?

Who's the heartless beast,

Devouring this bird that could fly so high?

Oh Allah, did he have to die so that I can live,

To carry the torch of this never-ending struggle

That consumed this courageous life?

Am I alive to start from where he left?

Where are his shoes that I may step in

To complete the journey?

Dear friend Bamba,

You lived life so full of promise,

Promise of bountiful days to come

Days you could not live long enough to see.

Rest in peace, I will hold on strong

So the sky will not fall

And the wall will not come tumbling down.