23/09/2026
WHEN SOMETHING GOES WRONG, WHAT DO YOU DO NEXT?
Problem-solving remains one of the greatest challenges I have encountered among Liberian children and young people throughout my years of working with them.
And at the risk of stepping on a few adult toes, I don't think this challenge ends with children.
Yesterday, it came knocking right at my own front door.
I needed to go to Redlight to buy some much-needed foodstuff because things are considerably cheaper there than where we're currently buying around Thinkers Village.
Since we moved back to town, I have deliberately been taking my teenagers with me so they can learn how to navigate the market.
A couple of months ago, I sent two of them by themselves for the first time.
They went.
They bought everything.
They came home.
One win.
Yesterday, my husband suggested that I send them again.
And I agreed.
After all, we're preparing them for adulthood. A 16- and 17-year-old should gradually learn how to navigate something as ordinary as a market run.
So after school and lunch, I prepared the list, gave them the money and gave one very specific instruction:
Take the Redlight bus.
It passes right by our house, saves them the hassle of taking a kehkeh, and costs less.
Off they went.
At about 6:52 p.m., I received a flash from their phone and immediately called back.
My 16-year-old answered.
They were at the main junction. Their transportation money wasn't enough, and the kehkeh driver was demanding his remaining $120.
Before I could fully understand what was happening, my phone went off.
Then the rain came.
Heavy rain.
I couldn't understand why they were even at the junction when they had been instructed to use transportation that would bring them along the road by our house.
But I thought:
They'll figure it out.
They are teenagers.
Surely they can work through this.
The flashing continued.
Eventually, my husband went looking for them.
Around 7:30 p.m., they returned home.
Without our groceries.
I waited for an explanation.
Then my oldest began:
“The kehkeh rider stole our market plastic…”
Apparently, they had gotten into a kehkeh. They believed the driver had agreed to bring them inside for $150. When they reached the junction, there was a disagreement over the fare.
And eventually, the angry driver drove away with the groceries still in his vehicle.
I was hurt.
And I was angry.
Because the groceries were lost, yes.
But what bothered me even more was realizing how many opportunities they had had to solve the problem before it reached that point.
They could have followed the original instruction and taken the bus.
They could have taken a bike that brought them directly home and had us settle the balance.
When they realized they were short $120, they could have asked one of the familiar sellers around the junction to lend them the balance while one of them came home to get it.
They could have started flashing me much earlier so we could send the additional transportation money to meet them.
There were options.
But in the moment, they couldn't see them.
And THAT is what stayed with me.
Not simply:
“Why didn't you obey me?”
But:
“When Plan A failed, why couldn't you create Plan B?”
Because life will not always follow our instructions.
Buses won't come.
Money will run short.
Plans will fail.
Someone will misunderstand you.
Something will break.
The person who was supposed to help won't show up.
And sometimes, Mama and Daddy won't answer the phone.
What do you do next?
That is a character-development question too.
Today, my daughters are responsible for trying to resolve what happened yesterday.
And I'm watching.
I'm resisting the urge to swoop in and solve everything for them because this situation has exposed an area where we clearly have more work to do.
They need to learn how to solve problems.
And perhaps many of our children do too.
We cannot solve every problem for them throughout childhood and then suddenly expect them at 18, 21 or 25 to become adults who can assess situations, identify options, make sound decisions and act.
Problem-solving needs practice.
At home.
At school.
In the market.
With money.
With transportation.
With siblings.
With assignments.
With mistakes.
And yes, sometimes with uncomfortable consequences.
Parents and teachers, when a child comes to us with a problem, perhaps our first response shouldn't always be to provide the solution.
Sometimes we need to ask:
“What happened?”
“What options do you have?”
“What have you already tried?”
“What else could you do?”
“What do you think will happen if you choose that?”
And then let them think.
Because if we're serious about raising responsible young people, we cannot only teach them how to follow instructions.
We must teach them how to THINK when the instructions are no longer enough.
This is bigger than yesterday's groceries.
Our children will eventually become employees, employers, parents, professionals, entrepreneurs and leaders.
They will inherit problems we haven't solved.
They will encounter problems we never anticipated.
And leadership cannot simply ask:
“Who is going to fix this for me?”
Leadership has to be able to ask:
“What can I do about it?”
Yesterday showed me that this is an area where my own children still need intentional development.
Was I frustrated?
Extremely.
Are we going to work on it?
Absolutely.
Because moments like this are exactly why TASID exists.
Not because our children already have perfect character.
But because we've recognized that character, responsibility, initiative and leadership cannot be left to chance.
The task can feel overwhelming.
But we must do what needs to be done.
We keep teaching.
We keep creating opportunities.
We let them think.
We let them try.
We correct.
We try again.
Because one day, Mama won't be there to provide Plan B.
They need to know how to create one.
TASID — Building Character. Inspiring Leadership.
