Why are things so hard?

Nothing is quite right here. The line at the bank grows longer and longer everyday. We wait hours to make a deposit or withdraw. There are only a handful of ATMs in Monrovia and most don’t work when you want it. Running around taking care of multifarious tasks may take the entire day. Yesterday I withdrew cash from the bank and tried to pick up packages from the post office. It took four hours and the package was being held for a bribe. Things should not be this hard, but it only gets harder for the most vulnerable of Liberian citizens, One such person is the smallest baby girl languishing in a dark corner of the ICU unit of the local hospital. This place is poorly supplied and the staff re-use gloves and surgical needles. Cures and treatments are hard to find. Prayer and witchcraft mingle with hypodermic needles and prescription drugs. A small three weeks old infant suffers from hydrocephalous. Her family abandons her as a bad omen. Her bulging forehead and dire prognosis sends her mother wailing back to the bush. There will be no shunts or third ventriculostomies to be implanted by skilled infant neurosurgeons for little “Helen.” She is without a family and slowly dying. It can’t be easy. A small donation cup rests above her head to pay for her care and eventual funeral. Hospital staff and visitors coo at the seemingly happy little baby. I wonder to myself, “How much would it cost to medically evacuate her to Ghana?” “How much would it cost to fly a neurosurgeon to Liberia for surgery?” So many thoughts cross my mind. However, my most pressing question is “Why is life so difficult here?”