Moonlight Drive

The evening sun departs and a bright moon shines through every window of the house. There’s a full moon on a cloudless night and we laugh.


Do you know what a goathead is? Wally asks me. The other girls chuckle shyly.

Nooo, should I?

Ahh, it is the Liberian term for cunnilingus.

How did you ever figure that out?

A goat was slaughtered at a party and a few Liberians asked the old Oma if she likes goat head. Everyone laughed when she said ‘yes’.



That is such an ugly term for such a beautiful thing. I want to stay, but the night is growing late. It’s time to go home.

Around 10:00 p.m. we head to the bus stop. The hospital has a shift change around 10:30 p.m. and the bus ferries the nurses back to Cuttington. We run into the head of the County Health Department—Gus. He’s on his way to pick up his fiancée from work.

“The bus comes in about half an hour.” Gus says. “Let’s walk to my office and sit.” The fluorescent lights flicker on and I see huge black binders resting neatly atop each other. “Malaria” “STIs”

“What’s all this?” I ask pointing to the binders full of data on diseases.

“Oh, I’m the county health analyst. I also give health talks in the community”

“If you ever need another person to deliver health talks let me know.” I say with a smile and bright eyes. He nods back.

Just then his second in command stumbles in the office—Alphonso.

Alphonso has a slight build and is clearly agitated.

“That girl will never be my friend again! She should never be your friend again either!” He blurts out to Gus.

Gus smiles and remarks that Alphonso was dating two women and the jilted lover caught him with another lady.

“She waste beer on me! I didn’ reac' to Joni’s vexation! I was sitting dere with Gorpu. Gorpu is a married woman! Wha' if I stood up and everyone woul' have seen me with Gorpu? That would have been bad for everyone. Lucky, I was cool.” Alphonso drawls out in Liberian English.

We all agree Alphonso is so very lucky to only have a stained collar. He didn’t feel bad for dating two women. He didn’t feel bad for dating a married woman. It was the woman’s reaction to his infidelity that had him vexed. Vexed is used so much in Liberian English. It means perturbed or annoyed and fell out of the American vernacular nearly a century ago.

I say good night and walk to the bus. A group of nurses are dressed in their pale blue and white pleated uniforms. There’s a large crowd of women and one woman is pleading with the male driver. In front of the graves of the slain healthcare workers killed in the crisis, a nurse waves her hands punctuating the stark moonlit sky. She swoops down and touches his foot. “I say. For why? Please. I beg you. Take us home.” The male bus driver is drunk and unwilling to drive to the neighboring village of S.D.K. He finally gives in and cranks up the bus. It lurches slowly forward and we bump through the bright moonlight on our way home.

This is Africa.