We began our day at 6am with a ride to the SOS orphanage in Bukavu. On our way to our site, I was reminded of the juxtaposition of the intoxicating beauty of Lake Kivu and the utterly extreme poverty of Bukavu.
We arrived promptly at 7am and began our workshop with the children whose dark eyes betrayed a sadness and hardship; children who had witnessed entirely too much evil for their young and supposedly innocent ages. We had 70 to 80 children come in at 45-minute intervals all day in order to accommodate everyone. We danced, we painted, and we wrote letters to President Obama. Our letters begged for the end of genocide, rape and war.
Sadly, human hurricanes, tsunamis, and earthquakes occur everyday in Congo. Silent murderous storms, floods of sexual violence, and earthshaking murders are the norm. Women are not seen as human beings in this country, rather as animals degraded and demoralized – stripped of all in brutal and unimaginable manners.
As if we didn’t need to be reminded of the complete and utter lawlessness of the Congo, at one point during our workshop today, Vance, one of our cameramen, told me he was going to walk up the hill to get a shot of the SOS sign. In the midst of focusing his camera, he was suddenly surrounded by the Congolese military who attempted to drag him to their waiting vehicle. He managed to get away from them and quickly darted back towards the orphanage, with the military in quick pursuit. He luckily was able to make it to the director’s office that came to his aid and told the men in green that he was indeed there working with the orphanage.
Then, upon returning to our hotel we learned that we had lost yet another room, which had been taken over by the government. We have now lost two rooms and are residing as if we are in some depressing sleep-away camp with duffel bags packed to the ceiling.
Our sponsors, the awe-inspiring Women For Women International, have been truly phenomenal in not only keeping us safe, but also showing us how an NGO can successfully empower others towards a more positive and fruitful future.
Tomorrow we will be working with 500 children as well as 400 mothers. I am sad and tired and incredibly emotional, but when I think about what the poor souls with whom I have had the recent pleasure of working are going through, I instantly feel immensely guilty for even thinking about myself at this time. I am going to sleep now. I am going to weep and I am forever going to treasure my life, my friends, my husband, and my children, and as God is my witness, I will never take one moment of my life for granted again. Ever.
Peace,
Lysa