Off to Goma

The Africa Posts

And so I am on my way to Goma. We left at 4 am on the 3-4 hour drive across the border and into the city. There is much to do today. I don’t remember all of what I was told last night when I met the organizer from Goma. I was fighting sleep. We had been 2 days without a bed, flight issues on our way to Rwanda.

I spent less than 24 hours in Rwanda, which does not have my heart the way Uganda does. We were there as tourists, going on a gorilla trek – which was very expensive, and good exercise. I had the experience of looking into the eyes of some gorillas, of seeing them eat, interact and nurse. I realize how fortunate I am.

However, connecting with the gorillas does not carry the value to me that the blessing of human connection does. My daughters would certainly disagree. As would many others, including the passionate ranger who guided us, and who I was grateful to have met.

But humans are my species. I love them. To know them, to be helpful to them is my mission here in this lifetime. It is the same for my son, who is next to me in the car, typing up an annual report for this nonprofit organization that provides funding to these Africans (and globally), on our way to Goma.

This organization that he co-founded is helping so many. I met some of it’s beneficiaries on Monday with an outstanding man in Jinja. He teaches school children who attend schools without electricity to use laptops so they have a chance to succeed in higher grades and to attend college and bring forward movement to their own country rather than holding a vision of emigrating to America.

I had the privilege of witnessing and assisting with an introductory session for 70 students age 11-13 in Jinja, Uganda at a remote school in Jinja district. It is uncertain whether the school will support the rest of the curriculum (5 more sessions). Challenges abound.

Last night in my exhausted state, I missed a lot of what B said about today’s (and tomorrow’s) plans. This is partly due to his “broken” English (far superior to my French). French is the national language in DRC (Democratic Republic of Congo).

I do know that we will go to a church which supports and provides a base and a home for some of the work B is doing with child soldiers ages 12-17. These soldiers, stolen from their homes (often villages burned to capture them), then abused and raped into submission, become outcasts when they escape from the army or are injured. Because of their outcast status, hospitals in the Goma area who find themselves with a minor who has sustained gunshot wounds or other war injuries now call B, (who is a lawyer in the community). The patient is released to him after treatment.

This would not be allowed, due to child soldier status, but the injured minors are integrated into his organization and supported there, along with other refugees of war. This tactic hides their past as a child soldier from the dominant culture. Then B’s organization helps them continue their education, helps find work for them. This provides community, as well as avenues for healing and rejoining their world.

I will also meet some of the beneficiaries of B’s efforts, the child soldiers themselves, and possibly other refugees. I know the day will be full + there will be meals and various people to meet. Much will be in French. I wish I had worked harder, started sooner in my French refresher course.

All prayers and good wishes are welcomed.

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