Jordan and the Liberian Snake

By Beth Holtam

“Whenever a new person is welcomed to a position in Liberia, out come the snake stories! Of all the topics a newcomer wants to hear, snake encounters are NOT among them. But that’s invariably what they get. Here’s one that happened to my husband, Jordan.

One morning, Jordan drove into Gbarnga and found a large crowd gathered around a palaver hut on the Superintendent’s compound. He asked what was going on and was told that a green mamba—a venomous snake—was in the rafters, and they needed someone to bring it down so they could kill it.

Jordan nearly always had a cutlass in the Land Rover, so he climbed up on a table, hoisted himself into the rafters, and swung the cutlass in the direction of the snake. Down came the snake—and down came Jordan—suddenly grabbing one arm in excruciating pain.

People were convinced he had been bitten, and when they saw him in pain, they began the wailing chant they use when someone is dying.

But no, he hadn’t been bitten. Jordan had a chronic dislocation in that shoulder, and when he swatted at the snake, it slipped out of joint. That’s what caused the pain. He managed to pop it back into place—and the people went wild with joy and relief. Jordan fought his way through the happy crowd, got back in the truck, and drove off to finish his errands.”