The Africa Posts
Our host, Bienve, and staff from the nonprofit organization Remember Youth for Change https://www.facebook.com/rememberyouthforchange drove us to the refugee camp.
Our first stop was at the school. This school is a community school, and the staff found a way to expand and meet the needs of the displaced children as well as those who already attended. The teachers teach the local children in the mornings and then teach displaced children from the camp in the afternoons.
The afternoon class is large from the camp, and the students only go to school if their parents approve their attendance. There are many many children in the camp – and about 30 lined up for new shirts. There may be more who attend. I’m not sure how large the entire afternoon class is, but we only had about 20 shirts to hand out.
Most displaced parents do not want their children to attend school. From what I know, formal education is not part of a tribal lifestyle.
I’m glad for the rule about school being a parental decision; when we schooled the native children in our country, the parents did not get to approve the decision. After forcing Native Americans from their tribal lands, our forefathers then took their children from the broken tribes – and “schooled” them (often in boarding schools) to conform to European/American religion and culture. The children were not allowed to use their given names or speak their native languages. [Read The Education of Little Tree if you want to know more about this.
Here of course, the story is different. An external military unit forced these people from their tribal lands, and transformed them into refugees. The schooling is a generosity, from what I can tell. The people still sing their songs, keep their names, sustain their tribal identities, and go home to their mothers* and siblings.
I know that Bienve respects the tribal ways.
Regardless of intention, the tribal ways and the tribal closeness to and alliance with Mother Earth has been shattered, along with the connection to ancestors.
And these children are going to have to navigate the dominant culture in DRC (Congo).
Last Thursday we stood on the porch of the schoolhouse, and my son and I were handed the new bright white shirts with their nice collars that give pride and a semblance of having a uniform to these students in this land where school children wear uniforms if they can afford them. The children were happy to get them. although there weren’t enough for everyone. I knew the sewing machines were at work to provide new shirts for all.
I was uncomfortable giving out the shirts, as if I had had a part in providing them. My son had been part of providing funding, but he was uncomfortable too ,he later said. It felt like a “photo opportunity” for us to be honored and photographed in this formal way. I made the most of it by being present for each child in the best way I could.
I believe that they thought we would want to be honored in this way. “Look at us and the good we are doing!” In truth, my son came to know the conditions, how the funding was benefitting others, and how to best move forward to help in the best way possible. As for me, I came to connect with and support my son, and my further purpose unfolded in Goma.
As we progressed down the line, I realized that these shirts were replacements, that the gray/brown shirts the children had on were the very same shirts. They had been worn daily for some time, were in a state of disrepair, and dirty.
Here is a photo of 2 students in their white shirts.
Our next move was to drive deeper into the camp, walk around, and visit some of the individual homes.
*Mothers and children make up the camp, aside from a very small number of older men. I do not know where the fathers are. I fear they are lost, that there are no men for the women and no male role models for the children. My guess is that they died attempting to defend their villages. I have many unanswered questions that I wish I had thought to ask. For this I apologize. I was so overwhelmed, and we moved so fast during this week, that many questions did not surface until I was on my way home.
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8 hummingbird way 