Sierra Leone is living proof that the people of West Africa are resilient. We find it hard to understand how the people of a country that has been through so much and is so challenged can be so welcoming and curious about who the two crazy people on bicycles are. Inflation is high, and life is hard for many. We are asked for money by people on the street and by school teachers. Yet we are mostly greeted with smiles and a 'You are welcome'. It is so liberating when we say: 'We have cycled from Norway', and the response is: 'Noooooo way!' followed by a sound that is completely impossible to reproduce. It has to be experienced. There is a creativity, humor and a vibe in people that is completely unique.

The meeting with Ishmael Baeh

We wake up to a loud noise and we quickly sit up in the tent. Marie says: 'That's it!' Out of the tent in a hurry and move it onto a concrete platform. The tide has broken through a sandbar, and we only just manage to move the tent before the waves wash over the place where it was.

The tide is unusually strong, and the water keeps washing over the beach, knocking over the large parasols made of dried palm branches. The owners are running around to save the tables and chairs.

A small group of people arrive and start setting up to film. We can guess that it is the woman who is the director and that she has her husband and three children with her. Another woman comes out with a pink surfboard and they start filming various scenes.

We get into a conversation with the man, whose name is Ishmael. He is a very pleasant man and the conversation is really interesting. We talk about how they dig sand from the beaches, which causes these unnatural, violent high tides. How there is a lot of garbage in the sea, which washes up on the beach with the waves. How they prune the trees in Freetown so that the wealthy can see the sea. This means that it rains a lot more in Freetown because it gets so hot. Ishmael says that when he speaks out against tree felling and sand extraction, he is told that he has been away too long. He has lived in New York, Mauritania and Mexico, among other places. We talk about how important it is to travel and understand how others live.

We find out that Ishmael is a writer and that he has visited Denmark and also published his first book in Danish.: The long walkWe only find out later that he is a former child soldier in Sierra Leone's civil war, which started in 1991. A terrible war, where the last peacekeeping forces only left the country in 2005. Tens of thousands of people died and approximately 2 million were displaced.

Ishmael's parents and two brothers were killed, and at the age of 13 he was kidnapped to fight in the war as a child soldier. They were dressed in clothes with amulets and told that the enemy could not see them. They were also made to smoke marijuana. After two years, Ishmael was rescued by UNICEF and later came to the United States, where he received his education.

Kenneth ends up asking Ishmael what it takes for the lives of the people in Sierra Leone to improve? Ishmael promptly replies: 'Visionary leaders'. That makes perfect sense with what we've heard before. Elisabeth from Tanzania said the same thing when we asked her why some countries in Africa are doing well and the opposite for others. It's one of the topics that we spend a lot of time talking about with those we meet and with each other. What does it take for countries to get out of extreme poverty?

Sierra Leone has gold, diamonds and other natural resources that have both helped and cursed the country. The country had the fastest growing economy in West Africa in 2013. The boom was ruined by Ebola and a metals crisis, so Sierra Leone's economy changed to be one of the most declining economies in 2015. In 2019, over 2 million people were malnourished. In 2022, the economy went into decline once again, and inflation rose from 12% in 2021 to 27% in 2022 and to 42% in 2023. About 81% of all households are struggling to feed their families. Poverty and desperation are certainly something we feel when we travel in the country.

We are stopped by people asking for money. We ask three young guys on a dusty country road what they are going to do with the money. They answer that they were hungry, that they can't get a job, and that the government is not doing anything for them. The same thing at a school where two teachers very insistently want us to help expand the school to keep the older students in school. The school was built by an American and the teachers' salaries are paid by the government. A poor salary, which in no way keeps up with inflation, as they say.

Although we would like to help, we cannot, and it is frightening that the population has more faith in travelers than in their own government. The arrow points back to Ishmael's statement that the country needs visionary leaders who can create better conditions for its people instead of lining their own pockets.

Conversely, we also find that if we engage in conversation with people who ask about money, the question of money disappears. Maybe it's also about being seen and heard. This is of course a hypothesis on our part, but we find that the more we talk to people, the less we are asked about money.

Freetown – freedom and decay

We are in Sierra Leone on Women's Day, which is a public holiday. Marie immediately thinks it's absolutely fantastic, but Anne, who we live with, takes it more calmly: 'They need it,' she says.

Anne is a Belgian woman who fell in love with Africa in her youth. She is married to a Malian man, with whom she has three children. Anne has lived in Mali for 12 years, but had to move because of the challenges in the country. She has lived in Sierra Leone for five years, and during that time the economy has only gone downhill, she says in a slightly resigned voice. On the other hand, her eyes shine brightly when she talks about Africans and the continent.

Kenneth's niece, Andrea, has been doing a school project on Sierra Leone, so we get some great tips on what to see. We cycle towards Sierra Leone's iconic cottonwood tree, which stands at a roundabout in the city. It is Freetown's most famous landmark, as it played a key role when freed American slaves rested in its shade after they came to the city in 1787 to make a new life.

We visit the tree, and ironically it is perhaps still a symbol of the city. The root is huge, but the tree is almost gone and only a single branch is green. The tree is wrapped in advertisements and homeless people now live under the tree instead of the strong settlers who were supposed to create the foundation of the city.

The rivers are full of garbage, but the locals still bathe in the river. At one point, Kenneth hears a big splash, and a little boy jumps headfirst into the river among the garbage. There is so much garbage that pigs can live on the rivers. It is sad, and we want to shout out loud: 'What is the plan with all that garbage'? But we know that this is the least of their problems, and that we come from a very privileged part of the world, where we have the energy to worry about waste sorting.

On the other hand, we are also impressed by how many people say 'Welcome to our country' and are curious about what we do and where we are from. A situation that we experience many times is that someone asks us where we are from and where we are going - and then a flood of information starts to spread to those who pass by. It seems like both interest, tradition and as if there is social capital in being able to pass on news.

We experience the same energy of life when we take the local ferry to Free Town from Tagrin. The ferry is packed with people and goods. The atmosphere is good, and everything from local snacks to freshly made popcorn to the music hits of the year 2024 on DVD was sold. Loud music blasts out of the speakers with short sound clips from the different songs, while the seller shouts and advertises the hits of the year. We are really impressed that he already knows the hits of the year for 2024 – but there were sales in the DVDs.

We live in Freetown for three days and every day we go down to the same woman who cooks in front of her house. It is a small street kitchen where you can get rice and the sauce of the day. There are small benches where we can sit and a table with rice and sauce. The food is cooked on two burners in front of her house. It is nice to see how the locals hang out and talk. Even though we stick out, we are quickly accepted and included in the conversations. The food is good, and it only costs about 5kr. for a plate of food. In comparison, 500g. oatmeal costs about 23kr. Everything that is imported is expensive.

On the last day we pass by on our bikes as we are on our way out of town, and it gives us a good laugh when we tell them that we cycled from Denmark.

Muslims and Christians together

On the way to Liberia, we cycle along the disused railway route, which was in use from 1897 to 1974. Now the railway line is a dirt road, but there are still signs from when the railway was active.

Along the way, we sleep in small villages, and our hearts are filled with gratitude for the hospitality they show us.

It's amazing to experience life in small villages. In a small town we are allowed to sleep in the town's common area, which is an open house with a roof over it.

The next morning before it gets light, a gong gong sounds three times. It happens once more. A little later we hear a group of men singing and a church service in progress. We lie right next to it in our small inner tent and are part of the day that starts in the city.

In the same village, there are Muslims who observe Ramadan. It is absolutely amazing to experience how several religions live so closely together. Muhammed cheerfully teaches us that Waka Waka Waka means thank you in the local language, and he gives us cassava, bananas and papaya. We get water at the well, and the residents come by to say welcome and watch curiously as we set up the tent.

We are getting used to the fact that it is completely normal for people to sit down and just look at us without expecting a conversation. We are starting to think that it is no longer borderline, but it is very cozy. After all, it is us who are uncomfortable with the situation and not them. We are also given a bucket of water. Cleanliness is important, and it is clear that they think we are a bit dirty after the day's cycling on the gravel roads.

In another small village we ask for water, and it quickly turns into us having to sleep there. It's a woman named Saffie, who is the head of the family. A woman with a bone in her nose and at the same time very charismatic.

The woman speaks good English and asks if we want a bath. We say thank you very much and it turns out that there is a toilet as we know it and the possibility of a bath with buckets. Her brother has a high position in the army and he has built a bathroom and a house where the woman and her family live. We can tell that they have more than most, but at the same time she also talks about poverty. Most people live with very little in the village. As darkness begins to fall, the villagers come home. They have been in the jungle, where they have their fields of cassava and yams, and where they harvest fruits from palm trees, which are used for palm oil.

The woman proudly shows off her family with children and grandchildren. She also says that the month before, she had lost her eldest son, aged 24. He was studying at college in the town of Bo, but had died of drugs in Freetown. He was brought home, and he is now buried on their land. It is heartbreaking to hear. Sierra Leone has had major problems with the drug Kush, a synthetic drug that is particularly destructive to young people, for the past six years.

We cook and talk to the family. Meanwhile, the tent is moved around. First, the tent is set up outside the house. Then a blanket is added for the tent to stand on. Then the tent is set up on the porch and finally the tent is moved inside into a room that is the hallway to some of the family members' rooms. It is certainly meant as an upgrade to be allowed to sleep inside, but the air in the room is completely still, the humidity is sky-high, and we are as warm as a hamster in a wool sock. We have learned that we should never accept an upgrade again.

In another small town, the village chief, Alfa, lets us sleep on a concrete area. 'The snakes can't get up there,' teases one of the villagers. A super nice guy who is in the process of making an extra stall out of wooden poles, as they have a market the next day. People from small surrounding villages come here to sell vegetables and other goods.

Next to us is a factory that is now in ruins. It processed agricultural products. We didn't quite understand why it was closed, but they said the factory lacked funding. Along with the closure, jobs for young people also disappeared. During the evening, several people came by and said hello. Others waved and shouted welcome as they drove by on motorcycles and disappeared down a small path to their homes. The priest also came by to say welcome.

Alfa came back after dark with a coconut, which was really sweet of him. The next morning before it got light, he stopped by to check if we were okay and to say good morning to us as he had to leave early. We were completely warmed by the welcome they showed us. The man who worked at a new stall kept us company that evening and the next morning. Before we set off, he said he hoped we would tell good stories about Sierra Leone back home. And we promised. Sierra Leone is a challenged country, but its people are some of the most amazing people we have met on our journey through West Africa.