By Francois Jackson, Greensboro, North Carolina (daughter of Liberian economist, Sam P. Jackson)
A man’s wife is discovered bleeding in their bedroom. It takes 21 hours of efforts in two hospitals to revive the unconscious woman from her injuries. All efforts failed. She succumbs.
Thirty minutes later pictures of the dead woman naked, with deep surgical marks in the middle of her head from crude medical procedures are circulated on Facebook. Mind you these are surgical procedures from one of the most backward countries on the planet.
Liberia has only one brain surgeon. The stitched head looks grotesque. The marks are incisions and stitches. Black threads in the 21st century. There is no modern surgical procedure in Liberia. Lobotomized like procedures. Scalped. A torturous look.
Almost simultaneously purported pictures of domestic abuse are released from suspicious sources.
Her husband is called by Liberia’s Inspector General of Police only an hour after the wife’s body is deposited at the morgue to report himself to the Headquarters of the National Police. He asks for delay since he hadn’t slept for nearly 30 hours. The IG sends intelligence officers and more than 20 combat ready swat police officers to surround the man’s home.
A 73-year-old man surrounded by what my dad calls the Gestapo. The man goes temporarily insane at the raw and callous display of power. Uncivilized, cruel and fueled by gossip. He utters insane words at the authorities and makes some impolite callous statements. Understandable with the tragic loss and now the sharks are circulating rumors he killed his beautiful wife. The wife he presented to the world as the Zulu Queen.
Almost like an avalanche his own Liberian people began to pillory him calling the man a monster, wife beater and guilty as charged.
I rather be mourning the death of my stepmother Toni Khumalo. A brilliant and charismatic lady. Clearly, she loved my dad to follow him to Gaye Town front her life in Sandton, South Africa. We loved Toni. The relationship was different. May December. One budding and the other in the twilight. They seemed loving.
My dad, Samuel Jackson is a serial romantic lover with 17 children by 13 women. I’m one of those children. In the 56 years of his children’s births not one incident of domestic abuse or even a 911 call ever placed by his bevy of wives and lovers. Not in the USA. Liberia. Ghana. South Africa. He’s never even beaten anyone of his children. None of my siblings or stepmothers. He’s never laid hands on us including those he raised. He’s never yelled at our mothers. All are alive with one exception.
Why the rush to judgement? My father is the most self-assured man on the planet. His admirers love the confidence. His haters decry what they see as an attention grabber. But they all miss the essence of my dad. He is a critically opinionated man. Well, learned. Knowledgeable about many things. His intelligence overpowers his adversaries.
They take his drive to incessantly prove his worth as braggadocio. That’s the Liberia I know. Insecure, unsure and totally unprepared to compete in the global economy. My father is different. He made it everywhere he went. Wall Street. Vacuum cleaner sales. Cleaning company. Ice seller in Liberia. My father would rise at 4 AM daily in Paynesville, Liberia to sell ice. I saw him do that for ten years.
Why are many Liberians in a hurry to convict my father without evidence? My dad’s strong will and dare to call Liberians stupid and unproductive. His words are meant to motive us Liberians to see the greatness of our country. Foreign domination of the Liberian economy is the greatest obstacle to poverty reduction.
Thus, my dad battles generations of Liberian leaders. He is brash. Throws tantrums. He is impolite at times. Impatient with his people. Loud. Big mouth. But these traits don’t make him a killer.
My stepmother was a troubled young lady. Brash. Acquisitive. Wanting all. My father was a husband and guidance counselor all in one. They made progress. Their lives were on a roll. They just started a car hire service in Liberia.
My father hasn’t had time to grieve his wife. Toni’s body is not resting in peace. I ask you all to allow them the peace and serenity our family needs to process the tragic death.
My dad is cooperating fully with authorities. His house is sealed. He spent 72 hours in Police detention. An autopsy report has been completed. My father has availed himself for ten days to constant questioning.
It’s time to lay this matter to rest. To cherish the memories of Toni and to exonerate an innocent man. RIP Toni Khumalo. Rest well.
