🌊 Eating Monkey in Sierra Leone

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We seek to hold a mirror to the world. To do so, Roca editor Max Frost traveled to Sierra Leone – a country synonymous with war, disease, and poverty – to understand how countries fail and what it means for their people. Each Sunday, he’s sending out an on-the-ground report. This is part 4. Parts 1 (Inside Trash City), 2 (Inside the Secret Societies), and 3 (An Interview with a Child Soldier) are available at those links.

Bushmeat: Meat derived from wild mammals, reptiles, amphibians, and birds that live in the jungle, savannah, or wetlands

Bushmeat has been blamed for causing Ebola, HIV, monkeypox, and, potentially, Covid. It often comes from animals that people in the developed world generally think shouldn’t be eaten: Monkeys, bats, giant rats, porcupines, pangolins. 

I, like most of you, I presume, don’t want to eat these things. Doing so seems a mix of inhumane, sickening, and dangerous. 

But do you think the government overreached during the pandemic? Do you think that far-away bureaucrats relied on unproven science to alter your way of life? Do you think those changes disproportionately targeted the poor while leaving those in power to continue living well? 

If you answered yes, I suspect you may not be as anti-bushmeat as you think you are. Because as I learned in Sierra Leone, bushmeat isn’t just a food – it’s a lifestyle. And the logic behind it is something that I believe many readers can identify with.

In the hinterlands of Sierra Leone – the world’s third-poorest country – there is little food, little money, and little government. What government does exist is distrusted and ignored. Sierra Leoneans across all religious, geographic, and ethnic divisions told me that the government exists for one reason: To line its own pockets. 

Given this, when the government tells people to do something, they assume there is an ulterior motive. Instead of following orders, they do the opposite. Such was the case with Ebola. 

The West African Ebola epidemic began in 2013, apparently when a bat bit a child in a village in Guinea. By the time anyone realized what was happening, it was too late: The child had died, his family had fallen ill, and the virus had spread to nearby towns. Soon, it crossed the border into Sierra Leone. 

That first child was bitten around 120 miles from the town of Kabala, where I found myself talking to a group of tribal chiefs. While Sierra Leone’s government manages a military, has a seat at the UN, and issues laws, it’s these chiefs who have the real influence. They are the custodians of history and tradition. They are the ones who get things done. 

When people started suffering Ebola-induced hemorrhagic fevers, the government in the capital, Freetown, responded with orders: No gatherings, no travel, no eating bushmeat. 

Freetown was only 150 miles from where we were sitting but felt a world away. The political leaders who frequent its hotel bars, beach-side restaurants, and nightclubs are aliens compared to here – the jungle, the “interior.” They spend more in a night than these villagers make in a year. They travel to England and the US while the villagers may never travel outside their province. 

So, the chiefs told me, when the officials and the WHO told the villagers to lock down, the villagers ignored them. 

“That’s what made Ebola go wild,” said Chief Baru, the local district chief. 

“Without the buy-in of the chiefs, there was no authority to enforce the order and people didn’t believe the disease was deadly.”

The government didn’t want to go through the chiefs, because it’s perpetually battling them and their rival system of government for political influence. Except by not doing so, no one trusted the out-of-touch government.

As the disease spread, the government had no choice but to engage the chiefs. They, in turn, agreed to work with the government. 

Paramount Chief Gbawuru Mansaray III – the chief above Chief Baru – told me he “decided to summon a chiefdom meeting,” where he told the chiefs that “Ebola is not a good disease. It can wipe off a family by drinking from one cup.”

He then told his “sub-chiefs within the chiefdom to go and summon another meeting within their towns.”

The word thus went out: No guests, no travel, no socializing. People would defy the government, but nobody dared defy the chiefs. And within a few months, Ebola stopped spreading.

It’s now a decade later, though, and the chiefs are back to ignoring the government’s health advice. Their reasons may sound familiar.

Editor’s Note

So, thoughts on eating monkey? Let us know what you think. We’re curious. Also, for those who have been asking, once this story is over, we have a few to publish from New Mexico and Ohio. We’re also headed to India and Pakistan. If you’re in either of those countries, let us know!

And here are our last five stories in case you missed them: 

• An interview with a former Afghan interpreter 

• Will Trump abolish the Education Department?

• Can Mahmoud Khalil Be Deported?

• Why some Republicans want a recession

• We tracked $117B in Ukraine aid

Enjoy the rest of your weekends.

–Max and Max