Liberians in Pittsburgh feel anguish for loved ones in Ebola's epicenter

Urias Tombekai had just arrived at a birthday party hosted by fellow Liberians in Churchill.

Before blowing out candles and eating cake, his new friends did a little math.

“September 8, October 8. He's OK,” Blama Sirleaf, a Chatham University biology student said with a smile, mindful that Ebola's incubation period can last 21 days.

Tombekai, 27, came to Pittsburgh from Liberia, one of three West African countries ravaged by an Ebola outbreak. More than a month into his American life, he was free of Ebola's grasp, but not of Ebola fears.

“I ... just feel bad, because I can't do anything. It's so hard because of Ebola,” he said.

Even in celebration, Pittsburgh's Liberian community is mourning. In their country of about 4.3 million people, more than 2,300 people have died from the highly virulent disease, according to the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Thousands more are infected. The World Health Organization said this week Ebola's worldwide death toll could pass 4,500.

Countless others in Liberia are sick and hiding, distrustful of a government they say has failed them, and of hospitals where some believe they will get sick. People fear leaving their homes, said Lincoln Ward, who left Liberia in 1996 during the civil war and runs a Liberian radio station online. Ebola constitutes a more serious threat than the civil war that drove them to the United States, Ward and others said.

“At least you can run from a bullet. This, you can't,” said Ward.

The 14-year war destroyed his school, and soldiers chased his family from their home. He arrived in Rhode Island, where his mother, Comfort Moore, had been since 1981.

Government doubts

The war gave way to persistent government mistrust, said Yolanda Covington-Ward, assistant professor of Africana Studies at the University of Pittsburgh who is married to Lincoln Ward.

“Regardless of what side you were on, you definitely have a different understanding of what government is and whether or not government is here to help you,” she said. “There's an expectation of corruption, an expectation of nepotism.”

Pleas for action on Ebola to government officials went unanswered, Tombekai said.

“We told the government to close the borders,” he said. “People are really worried.”

Covington-Ward said Liberians balked at donating money to the government for Ebola care because they suspected it would be misused.

Sirleaf, the biology student, expressed disappointment in the Liberian government's inability to care for its sick and its need for international medical assistance.

“You should be able to do it on your own, rather than have someone do it for you,” said Sirleaf, who came to the United States in 2004.

Monica Menduabor left much of her family behind when she came to this country in 1998 as a young teen. She talks to her father on the phone regularly.

He lives under a curfew imposed by the government, afraid to leave his house, even for groceries.

Her family is healthy, but she worries that will change quickly.

“When the phone rings and I see the code is my country, my heart is pounding,” she said. “What am I going to hear?”

Looking to help

Liberians in Pittsburgh want to send medical supplies to the country. Ward and George Toto, the leader of their community group, said they are talking with churches to set up collection barrels. The group is working with nonprofit Brother's Brother Foundation in the North Side to ship the supplies.

It's the least they can do, said Ward, who lost two uncles in rapid succession to Ebola. They were found dead in their homes. Moore, who left Liberia in 1981, said she would give anything to go back.

“We are praying every day that they find a cure,” she said. “I feel so far away.”

U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services relaxed some immigration restrictions for people from Liberia, Guinea and Sierra Leone.

West Africans on student visas can get work visas, under specific circumstances. West Africans who are U.S. citizens can get petitions for green cards expedited for relatives who are in the United States under different visas.

Nothing has changed for West Africans applying for green cards or visas, whose applications will be considered in the order they arrive, according to the Department of State.

Sirleaf said Ebola has changed his plans. He hopes to start medical school, where he might study rural medicine.

“By the time this whole Ebola thing is over, there will be no one to take care of common illnesses like malaria,” he said. “It's terrifying.”

Any relief Tombekai feels to be out of harm's way is tempered with worry. Green card in hand, reunited in America with his sister, he is a trained social worker looking for work. He can't help himself, though. He turns to Facebook for the good — and the bad — coming from home.

“It's so bad. People are not working. They're not getting anything to eat. It's so hard,” he said.

Megha Satyanarayana is a Trib Total Media staff writer. Reach her at 412-320-7991 or megha@tribweb.com.