International Development Journalism Competition: After the war, now what? Former child soldiers in Sierra Leone
Foday sits under the corrugated tin roof of 'Mama's' Restaurant. The light fades as the afternoon clouds darken; rain approaches in the distance.
"You don't want to be riding in this weather," Foday says as the first drops of rain fall in the dust. "You get sick, even though we're used to the jungle training."
The storm breaks overhead and the heavy West African rain drums on the tin roof and thunder rolls through the empty streets. Ten minutes later, the sun reappears and the red dust and green leaves shine more intensely than before.
Foday rolls his motorbike out from under the roof, starts the engine and gets back to work. Like thousands of other former child soldiers in Sierra Leone, Foday works as a motorbike taxi rider, one of the few jobs available in a country where unemployment is 60 per cent.
There is a saying in Sierra Leone that 'an idle man is a devil's workshop'. After the war ended in 2002, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission's report highlighted youth employment as a necessity for future stability. But, almost a decade since the war finished, the question of how to employ thousands of youths in a country whose infrastructure and economy are still recovering is not easy to answer. It is further complicated by the fact that many of the youths are uneducated, as they have spent their childhood fighting.
In Koidu, Foday's hometown in the east of Sierra Leone, the legacy of war is still visible. A large artillery gun, painted in the national green, white and blue colours, sits in the centre of a roundabout. Tall grass and vegetation have reclaimed the insides of many burnt out buildings and there are few cars or buses on the potholed, crumbling roads.
Foday, now in his late twenties, lives with his wife and young daughter in a one-room house. The mud walls have thick cracks and the roof leaks in the rainy season. But, Foday says, it is somehow better than before.
"When I was eleven, the armed men came to my village. Everyone scattered into the bush but I stayed to look after my grandmother," Foday says, sitting next to his wife on a bed that takes up most of the room in their house. "The armed men captured me and said if I didn't join them, they would kill me or cut off my hand. So I joined them and they accepted me."
Foday spent the next ten years fighting in the jungle, caught up in Sierra Leone's civil war: one of Africa's most brutal conflicts. His story is not uncommon.
It is estimated that during the eleven years of fighting, up to 10,000 children were forcibly recruited, either by the rebels, the army or various militia groups. The children were given drugs and alcohol and forced to commit some of the worst atrocities of the war. When the war finished the UN organised a disarmament and rehabilitation programme that allowed the fighters to return to society. A large UN presence and charity organisations helped to maintain the peace in the years after the war.
"It was difficult. I had nothing," Foday says, as his wife picks their daughter off the blanket on the floor. "But I left all the fighting behind and just wanted to start again."
With the infrastructure of the country badly damaged and many of the roads and jungle tracks only accessible by motorbike, transportation was and still is a problem. The solution has been the rise of the motorbike taxi rider, known as Okada. It has provided an opportunity of employment for thousands of former combatants, like Foday, who missed out on an education and have no career they can do.
The idea has taken root throughout Sierra Leone and can be seen as part of the national process of reconciliation. Former child soldiers who fought on opposite sides now work together and civilian victims of the war find themselves riding as passengers behind former combatants.
But according to Foday, it is not a permanent solution. "The riding sustains us only for a day. I cannot plan for my future. If I had another job, I would easily leave riding. But there are no other jobs."
Riding is a dangerous job and the riders make little money. They rent the motorbikes from wealthier owners and on average earn a dollar a day. Foday's point is further emphasized by the fact that many university students and graduates, with degrees from accountancy to engineering, are also becoming Okada riders due to the lack of any other options. They are also joined by those who could not afford to go to school and so missed out on an education altogether.
While the situation is improving in Sierra Leone, the country still ranks 158 out of 169 in the 2010 UN Human Development Index. Life expectancy is 48, literacy rates are low and infant mortality high. The area where Foday lives has some of the richest diamond mines on Earth, yet it is also the poorest region in Sierra Leone. This fact is not lost on Foday.
"The diamonds are not for poor men. They are only for those from Europe who have the deep mining equipment. Me, I am not able."
There has been a lot of investment from foreign countries like Britain and China in Sierra Leone. Main roads and the long-disused railway are being rebuilt but the country appears to be at a crossroads, its future uncertain.
Is all this being done to facilitate the rehabilitation of Sierra Leone? Or is it to enable the quicker export of its natural resources? It is hoped that this investment will bring jobs and stability as money trickles down through society, but has the corruption- a major cause of the war in the first place- really been eradicated?
Foday has a saying: "What belongs to Caesar must be given to Caesar; and what belongs to Jack must be given to Jack." It would be easy to interpret this as a threat, but in the context Foday uses it, he means that if you work hard you should get your reward.
The challenge for Sierra Leone is to make the progress achieved so far permanent. This can only be done by dealing once and for all with poverty and not resorting to corruption and violence.
But at the moment, for Foday, and the many youths like him who continue to struggle to live from day to day, the future is a luxury they cannot afford to think about.
This feature was written for the Guardian International Development Journalism competition before 13 June 2011.