By Gboko Stewart
Can somebody please, for the life of me, explain why a family member of a young man—who was a member of the Ancient Order of Free and Accepted Masons—would refer to it as the “Billionaire Club” during the vote of thanks at his funeral?
His reference of “Billionaire Club “ is the title of a nollywood film of poor men engaging into ritualistic purposes to attain riches.
This happened yesterday at the Trinity Cathedral where it was captured live on camera. A friend shared the clip with me, and I was appalled as you probably are reading my post.
As the words escaped his mouth, I muttered under my breath, “what the actual f$@$&k is he saying?” But then it hit me his view is what is widely shared across the country.
Fraternities—especially the Masonic—are seen by many young people as the surest path to riches.
Why that perception endures is a lingering question that even the Grand Architect of The Universe might be curious to explore.
The roots of this perception are historical and deep.
For 133 years in Liberia, governance of the state revolved around the Masonic Craft and the three mainline churches—Methodist, Baptist and Episcopal. Occasionally, the Presbyterian also played a role.
To rise through the higher of the highest echelons of government in the past, one must have attained a certain degree in the craft.
Young men and women of Americo Liberian ancestry, wanting to veer into politics and perhaps to make a meaning of their own lives, had to go through this “rite of passage”.
And so one could see why most of Liberia’s former Presidents, old money-elites, and officials from the grand old True Whig Party were Master Masons or 32nd degree members of the order.
Others, despite being members of an organization with the best networks for social upwardly mobility in Liberia, sought nefarious means.
Names like the Andersons and the Yancys come to mind. In their pursuit of influence, they were implicated in ritualistic practices wholly divorced from what the Craft preaches.
Historical records indicate that some of the Yancys were already involved in ritualistic activities back in America before arriving in Liberia.
So when the actions of men like Allen N. Yancy and James Daniel Anderson came to light, it unfairly tainted the public perception of Freemasonry in Liberia.
These men were high-ranking government officials and influential members of lodges in Monrovia and Harper.
They were found guilty and sentenced to death by hanging. Ironically, it was President William R. Tolbert Jr.—a Mason himself—who signed their death warrants.
The 1980 coup, followed by a decade of dictatorship, years of civil war plus another six years of authoritarianism, released the stranglehold of the craft and mainline churches over the state governance.
Nevertheless, the view continues to persist that the path to riches in Liberia is in the tiled marble building perched atop the hill of Benson Street that overlooks the US Embassy.
Against that backdrop, it’s easier to understand—though not excuse—why someone might ignorantly refer to a fraternal organization as the “Billionaire Club.”
From the Masonic Craft to the Knights of St. John International and other fraternities, I am astonished—ALWAYS— about the negative perception many Liberians holds toward these groups.
In this digital age, with the abundance and accessibility of information, it puzzles me how so many choose to remain willfully ignorant about what these fraternities actually represent.
From the village to the city, this permeating view continues to distort the character—in the eyes of those who view them—of men and women of noble repute.
We see it play out constantly on social media, where people are mocked simply for exercising their God-given and constitutionally protected right to freely associate.
But these Liberians would not criticize traditional Liberian fraternities where female genital mutilation occurs and where a young man was recently beaten around Fendall for playing music that’s associated with the the Poro.
Not long ago, I advised a friend who intends to run for an elected position to never post a picture on social media in his full Masonic regalia as it would mean political suicide.
This we saw with Cllr. Charles Brumskine.
After he openly admitted to being a Mason in 2003—and following the announcement that George Weah would enter the 2005 presidential race—Brumskine’s popularity plummeted. It never fully recovered, despite his three attempts at the presidency.
Fraternities in Liberia do not deserve the negative picture of what is painted of them. Members of fraternities must have find a way to dissuade those perception by engaging into more charitable works.
They must expand their charitable work, engage openly with their communities, not through secrecy but through service, and embody the virtues they espouse. For therein lies the truest help of thy widow’s child.
