Memoirs de Goma

We're staying at the beautiful Ihusi Hotel in Goma. It's now 6 a.m. in the morning and I've awaken early to spend sometime in prayer and meditation. I'm sitting on the terrace and my seat overlooks Lake Kivu. To my left, not far in the distance is Rwanda. It's so close that I can even see the colors of the rooftops on some of the buildings. I never imagined that Goma would be like this. The waves burble quietly on the shore and I can hear the birds chirping as they fly by. The sky is a mix of cream, blue and white and the sun will soon rise. Eastern DRCongo is one of the most beautiful places I've ever traveled to, comparable only to my beautiful Trinidad and Tobago.

On the surface Goma seems so calm. I could spend hours here just in silence, but my day is about to begin and I need to be mentally prepared. H, a fellow Caux Scholar, will come later and we will visit HEAL Africa, a Congolese NGO that houses victims of sexual violence from remote villages in the East while they await surgery. I needed to describe the sheer physical beauty of this place, so you get a sense of the irony of it all. Upon arrival into Goma, the first thing that you notice is the huge UN peacekeeping operation; barbed wire, UN tents, UN trucks and airplanes, everywhere. Yet, Goma feels like a tourist town. Apparently, before the civil war, it was one of the most popular resorts in Africa. Now, instead of tourism, Goma is home to MONUSCO, the largest UN peacekeeping mission in the world, and a significant expatriate population. This is because the Eastern border of the DRC shared with Rwanda, Uganda, Burundi and Sudan is an extremely volatile place. After the Rwandan genocide, members of the Forces Democratique de Liberation du Rwanda (FDLR) fled into Eastern Congo causing violence and bloodshed to the villagers of remote villages. To this day, they continue to kidnap and use children as child soldiers and rape and abuse women and children as a tactic of war. In retaliation, the Congolese military adopted the same tactics and the bloody politics of war is now being played out on the female body. The statistics and numbers of Congolese women and children who are victims of sexual abuse is staggering.(http://www.healafrica.org/)

I'm glad I've had some time just to reflect and center myself as I see H waving as she walks towards me. Half an hour later, together with two colleagues from work, we walk into the HEAL Africa hospital.  I've been warned not to discuss the rape with the women here. Most are still traumatized and it is a very sensitive subject. The hospital is not quite what I expect. I see women everywhere, and I see children. Some of the children are victims of sexual violence; others were born out of rape. The women are being taught to sew. This way once they return to their communities they will have a better chance to deal with the stigma of rape and regain some respect by earning their own money. There's a wide display of purses and hand crafted jewelry everywhere and I opt to buy some items, because this is one way to support the women here. But I'll be honest, being here breaks my heart and I feel a sense of lost humanity. Yet, in the midst of all the sadness and pain, there is hope. Most of the women and kids know H. They smile when they see her and I see the hope in their eyes. Maybe it's what I choose to see... but maybe, even in the midst of conflict, there can be transformation and even peace. Something here resonated deep within me and as we leave the hospital, I know I will spend my life working to empower women and children.

As we leave, H suggests that we head to the Goma market. I agree as in my mind, the most difficult mental part of the day is over. But as it turns out I'm wrong. We walk into the market and quite a few boys try to help us with our groceries. They fight over who can hold my bag and it's definitely the survival of the fittest here in Goma. Except it's not a game, this is real life for the kids here. Before I know it there are about 10 kids following me. They ask me for money, so the logical thing in my mind is to change some US dollars into Congolese francs and give to each of the children. I start giving out the money and I realize that the 10 kids have now become 20 and pretty soon I'm in a mob of kids. We escape as quickly as possible into our awaiting taxi. I'm shocked.... how easy would it have been for me to be born as an African child from Goma. What if I were one of these kids? 

My sadness turns into frustration. All my life, I've seen clips from Africa on news. It's a dream come true for me to live here. But the thing they don't tell you on TV.... is that the people here are just like you and me. They're not any different. In a heartbeat, they could be the person you pass on the street, they could be your brother or sister. Yet, on TV, we never see the names of children or women... it's as if a part of their humanity is cut out and their existence is different to ours. This makes me angry, because while the news portrays one aspect of life here, it doesn't portray the other, the beauty and the spirit of Congolese people... So regardless of what you see on TV, if you haven't already visited this beautiful place, I'll urge you to come to Africa and experience it yourself. And when you do...don't attempt to give out money to all the kids you see in the market... instead, try to find a more sustainable solution to empower children and create positive change for a brighter tomorrow.