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When I was writing about these characters, I wanted people to relate to their stories. I wanted everyone to identify themselves or their families with a certain character in the book. And I enjoyed writing the theatrics of the typical African family. If I were ever allowed to play any character in my book, I would definitely choose to play Maggie Ampofu. I would choose her because of her personality. Maggie has this aura that is beautiful and impressionable. And enacting her strength and daring character would give me the thrill of a lifetime. Honestly, I see a little bit of myself in Maggie. I know it’s not fair, but I couldn’t help it. Society Arts & Leisure 

I was born in the midst of war, says Liberian writer

    By Sianah Nalika Deshield, writer   Every author has his/her own unique story about how they became a writer. These stories can sometimes be funny, sad, happy, and even inspirational. My story consists of all of these things. To start off, I was born in the heart of the 1990 civil war in Liberia – a war that lasted sixteen years – so you can understand that unlike many people, my entire childhood wasn’t so beautiful. Memorable? Hell yeah, it was. I laugh with my family now about…

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Interviews 

11 Questions Vamba Sherif: Writer, Novelist

Vamba Sherif was born in Kolahun, Lofa County. His upcoming Novel Bound to Secrecy will be published by HopeRoad this month. A novelist principally, Sherif has written stories for The New York Times, The French magazine Long Cours, which is a subsidiary of L’Express, the German magazine Kultur Aaustauch, and for various Dutch newspapers and magazines like Trouw, De Volkskrant, One World, and many others. Vamba Sherif has had stints in acting and likes reviewing films. He’s currently an ambassador for the Dutch Refugees Council. In this capacity, he helps…

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Editor's Desk Society Arts & Leisure 

THE SUNDAY RUMPUS ESSAY: LOVE/WOMAN/THIRTY

BY WAYÉTU MOORE April 12th, 2015 ———- love/ ———- At that point I could not remember when last I had been outside. Some weeks prior I went to a store just below Eastern Parkway, one of the only stores of its kind that still existed among the deluge of coffee shops and yoga studios, to buy palm oil and frozen cassava leaves, to make the dish I knew would heal me, the only Liberian dish that could. When I arrived a sign informed that the store had closed indefinitely, and…

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