There is no going back, ever, and if anyone sees me slipping, remind me of where I have been. I am so full of love for the things I have seen and people I have met- intellectually my heart is breaking but I feel next to nothing. Maybe it is a gift from God that I rarely cry, maybe it’s supposed to give me courage to keep going. Today our group had lunch with a community of Congolese refugees, some of whom shared their stories with us. When these men and women talked, you either saw nothing or everything in their eyes- overwhelming sadness or emptiness. One man spoke of how, as a pastor, he was asked by the military to provide children to the army. He refused on the grounds that those children were God’s, not his, and was taken to live for 9 months in the bush as a result. He was tortured and beaten during that time until he could finally escape, where he ran for six months. Ultimately he was rearrested on the charges that he was responsible for the kidnappings of other children. Today he lives with his wife in Uganda as he was kicked out of the country. His wife was raped, and one of his two children is not with them- he/she had gone missing but has recently been found and will be returned to him. It has been about 3 and half years and now he/she is six. Another man discussed how military men would kill people, cut up their bodies, roast the flesh, and then make the villagers eat the body. Finally, a woman spoke- saying that the military came to the house of her husband and children. The children were beaten in front of her while she was tied down and then subsequently raped in front of all of them. She began sobbing and ran to sit down, unable to continue. Do you know why the war in the Congo continues??? It is a war over our CELLPHONES and ELECTRONICS, it is perpetuated by America due to the desperate hunt for profitable minerals and materials to sell!!
Is the world ugly, or is it beautiful?? Is your life just one more life?? Are we supposed to have hope when all this happens? They do- they DO. WHY? If I ever go back to my old life, my old selfish lazy way of thinking, someone hit me over the head with a baseball bat. Even right now, I am listening to my American pop music while typing up a transcription of an interview I did with a ~15 year old girl, Alexa, whose uncle continually asked her to have sex with her until she ultimately ran away to the slum and was finally rescued from her crappy life. Oh, did I mention she was living with her aunt because her father died and her mother was too poor to take care of her?
I hate and love this place. I don’t know how to feel, but I do know that the love I receive from the kids I volunteer with, and the people that share their horrific stories with us, is worth more to me than anything else. How does this all go on when, walking through the streets of Kampala, I see outwardly nothing of the sort?
THIS IS WHY I CAME TO AFRICA. THIS IS WHY. MAY I NEVER, EVER RETURN TO MY IGNORANCE OR LOOK THE OTHER WAY AGAIN.
No comments:
Post a Comment