Tag: Democratic Republic of Congo

Message to Children in Congo

by 8hummingbirdway

I was invited yesterday by Bienve, our host in Congo almost a year ago (in February), to send a message to the children at an upcoming feast (on Christmas), and I know it was a request for funds for this feast, and that is a fair trade. I feel good about providing funds and about sending a blessing.

Click here to read a prior post about Bienve Kamwendo, and here and here to read about my visit to this refugee camp.

I cannot cover the entire meal; if you would like to contribute even a small amount to this meal for hundreds of children in the refugee camp I visited, please see the purple box below. Money goes much farther in Africa, and the meal will be simple – rice, beans, cabbage, and a small amount of meat.

Here’s my Christmas day message to the chidren:

Last year it was a blessing for me to meet you, to sing with you, to watch the games and the dances, to touch your hands and to smile into your beautiful faces.

I will never forget the blessing of visiting you and finding your open hearts.

Don’t forget your sacred ways from your ancestors.

Remember the dance and the songs and the foods and your ancestral lands.

Don’t forget the stories that your parents tell you, and be sure to remember the names of your elders and ancestors.

I hope you will work hard to make this world a better place for all people.

See the good in others if you can. Sometimes it’s hiding, but it’s there most of the time. You will know. You will be able to feel it.

Hold a vision of a good world full of good people. I am praying for this, and simply trying to be good myself. 

Let us all love our families and our neighbors and ourselves.

Don’t forget to love yourself.

When you are in a dark time, when you are struggling and sad or angry or hurt, reach out to the light of God, to the light of your ancestors and your loved ones, to Mother Earth, to the Sun and the Sky and the Water, and that which is closest to you. There is always a way to find comfort, whether inside yourself or outside yourself or in others. Quiet your mind and reach inside yourself to find out what you need to know, how to find the comfort, or what steps to take. This is the way to live life – for all of us.

I send you much love.

From the Mzungu, Annie, mother of Jeff who works with Bienve.

To contribute any amount to this meal, contact me at 8hummingbirdway@gmail.com

Would you like to know more about the nonprofit organization created by Bienve Kamwendo in Goma – Remember Youth for Change? https://www.facebook.com/rememberyouthforchange

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More about Bienvenu Kamwendo, our Congalese host

by 8hummingbirdway

Looking back to Africa

I’ve found a short video of Bienve, our host in Democratic Republic of Congo, that I would like to share with you. This man is remarkable. He suffered from the lack of reliable adult presence and guidance early in life, and he managed to turn his challenges into blessings later on – blessings for others.

I recently spoke with Bienve about his personal story. Bienve never knew his father. His mother was not able to care for him for reasons I do not know. He lived with several families in childhood. When he was able, he worked selling fruit and taking photographs of tourists and selling them for pennies.

Bienve’s ancestors are from the Nande and Hera Tribes.

I don’t know all the details of his journey, but I know that he managed to go to school and become an attorney in adulthood. He shared with me the fact that he adopted 3 children well before he was married, children that needed guidance and support. One of them, Sarif, lives with his family still, and works for Remember Youth for Change, the non-profit organization he founded in Goma. As does his wife, Clarisse.

This man is a remarkable and outstanding human being. I stand in awe of him. His vision is all about helping others. Through his nonprofit and with the help of his staff, he provides pathways for young Congolese people to learn sewing, business, leadership, computer skills, and carpentry. He provides opportunities for them to engage in art and music. He provides activities and school shirts for children in multiple refugee camps. He rents fields for refugees to grow their own food.

All of these offerings are changing lives, healing wounds, and opening the future for others.

Something that touches my heart most deeply is that when hospitals in Goma find children with war injuries, they call Bienve. Knowing that these children received their injuries because of being child soldiers, and cannot return home to their villages, that they are societal outcasts, they call the man who can help them. Upon their release from the hospital, they are folded into Remember Youth for Change. They develop new selves with purpose. They find purpose in helping others, and training is available to them in carpentry, painting and agriculture.

Here Bienve tells about Remember Youth for Change in his own words.

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A Saxophone and a Clarinet!

by 8hummingbirdway

Looking back to Africa

I am so excited!

When I was in Goma, our host Bienve asked if we could provide a couple of saxophones. At the time we didn’t have an answer, but this question took up residence within me. It seemed a small thing I might be able to do.

On our last evening in Congo, we stopped at the church that provides support to Remember Youth for Change. The band that practices there as a result of Bienve’s vision played a flawless rendition of Amazing Grace for us, delighting me – and cementing my intention to help. (We also met a pianist in a separate practice room.)

A couple of weeks ago I asked a musician relative if he could provide guidance on getting used instruments. He suggested I look for something on Amazon or eBay.

This was a bit intimidating to me. I have never navigated bidding for items on eBay. And how do I assess an instrument that I don’t even know how to play from photos and a description of “used?”

I thought I might be able to get the a better deal than on Amazon after looking at both options.

Nothing to do but plunge in.

I joined Ebay and looked at the saxophones under $100. I asked questions of those who were selling about the condition of the pads. I reviewed seller ratings. For a week I was outbid on every item, but then I put a bid on a clarinet for $14 and and a saxophone for $35. I was the highest bidder!

They arrived in their boxes a few days later. Now what?

I couldn’t just send them, I realized. I had to make sure that they worked and probably send some reeds with them.

I remembered that my step-daughter used to play the clarinet and her husband is in a band with a saxophone player. I called and asked …they were happy to try them out!

I dropped them off a couple hours before band practice a few days ago and after an hour I got a video of the sax being played beautifully! The clarinet is in good form as well.

My heart is full of gratitude to the sellers and to the testers and for my good luck and spiritual support!

I’m going to get some additional reeds and make sure I write down the brands of the instruments and anything I need to know about the reeds and …(oiling the cork?) so that I can pass the info on and in the future perhaps provide more reeds.

Then off they go to Goma!

OK – I’m off to hunt down another saxophone on eBay!

Soon I will be able to provide information about other ways to assist Remember Youth for Change in Democratic Republic of Congo.

In the meantime, I will be sending at least one additional shipment of musical instruments if you have any you are not using.

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Queen Diambi

by 8hummingbirdway

A friend has shared with me the story of Queen Diambi of Congo. She lives in the USA and discovered her heritage in her late 40s. So joyful and hopeful! I have watched a long video of an interview with her. (See link below) Almost 2 hours and it has taken me a couple of weeks – but I am so glad I took the time! Much is happening in Africa and globally! Great wisdom and messages are shared in the interview.

Great change is coming! I an deeply heartened.

Here is my letter to Queen Diambi tonight.

Dear Queen Diambi:
I humbly write to you. I have just seen and listened to your interview with Robert Edward Grant. I am a 68 year old woman who lives in the hills of upstate NY and I returned less than a month ago from a journey to Congo. I connected with an organization in Goma called “Remember Youth for Change” which brings love and help and support to the community and to refugees in the area. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bxAap-JkGAo

[Bienve speaks directly to us from his heart in this short video linked above.]

There is much challenge in Goma now as the international mafia is closing in on the city, removing those nearby from their land to attempt to gain wealth from the minerals that have been found there.

I am changed by my journey, and a friend shared your video with me which is so inspiring. Thank you.

I am having a vision of a new world and especially of preserving and revealing and looking to tribal ways.

I love what you said about the journey of Africans in this country.

My (adopted) daughter, my sister’s child, is the daughter of a Native American man, taken from his tribe at the age of 4 or 5 and a woman of European descent. She married an African American man and her 2 sons carry a great deal, both suffering and transformation. One has just been elected to his local school board in CT at the age of 22 and plans to attend law school. The other, 24, went to Uganda with my son and is on his own journey, also in college.

I don’t know why I am telling you all this. I suppose it has to do with tribal ways and healing and personal strength …and the joining of multiple cultures through my daughter.

I am a shamanic practitioner, which ties me personally to tribal wisdom. My mission is to help.

I am helping Bienvenu Kamwendo, the founder of “Remember Youth for Change,” in his mission to bring meaning and wellbeing to young people through music. I’m hoping to send a few saxophones soon to join the musical mission he has started in Goma – along with the sewing enterprise he has created which provides school shirts for refugee students, and re-usable menstrual pads for sale. He oversees gardens that provide food in the refugee camps and so much more. I had the privilege of connecting with children and others in the Bulango Refugee Camp outside of Goma, providing a large meal there and connected with those in another camp for displaced persons as well.

My trip was short, just over a week, but it has changed me. I am finding my way to my new self through writing. My story starts on the blog at 8hummingbirdway.com – on 2/8/2024.

I felt so moved by your interview. Thank you. I had to reach out.

Thank you for your presence and your path and your work in the remote villages you preside over.

All blessings.

Listen to Robert Edward Grant’s interview with Queen Diambi https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BR5r11Ui0K4&t=2357s

Back to Goma

by 8hummingbirdway

The Africa Posts

We left the Bulango Camp and I was exhausted. I had no sense of time on this day, but it wasn’t over yet. I remember realizing I hadn’t given gifts at the camp as I had planned to, so I gave some scarves, pretty stones, a hair clip, and earrings to Clariss, to give out as she felt it would be helpful or appreciated. At this point I am not what sure to think about the gifts. Were they recieved as kindness + connection, appreciated, or just something I felt compelled to do? I have no idea. Perhaps they were simply accommodating an old woman’s desire.

As we drove back to Bienve’s home + office, he directed the driver to stop at several fruit stands on our way home. He knew that my son enjoyed fruit juices and he was collecting ingredients for a smoothie he would create for our pleasure.

When we arrived, we went upstairs to the office of Remember Youth for Change. We sat in a large circle and Bienve conducted a closing ceremony. It was an opportunity to say anything we felt needed to be said about our 2 days of him presenting his humanitarian and community work in the Goma area, and us learning about it. Bienve spoke briefly and I expressed my gratitude for the learning, for the experience, for his work, and for the love of his people that resides within him.

Then we were presented with some beautiful African clothing – a dress for me, and shirts fo my son and his dad. I have no idea where I will wear it, but I shall find a way. This had been accomplished during the past 2 days, after meeting us and assessing our sizes!

Photographs were taken of various groups of people, and then we were brought downstairs to Bienve’s home, where the blender awaited the peeling of the fruit. Rebecca, a staff member and close friend of the family, peeled. Bienve chopped and we shared a delightful concoction.

I had the pleasure of having Ilio, 2 year old son of Bienve + Clariss, lean on me and sit on my lap as we sat in the sun enjoying the company of these kind and caring people from another world. I gave Elia, the 3 year old, a small beaded doll named Rita. (Rita had originally come from Africa, and had been in the posession of a friend for many years. She asked me to return Rita to Africa on this journey.) Elia was delighted. Her small hand clutched Rita every time I glanced her way.

Finally it was time to say goodbye to Clariss, Rebecca, and the children and return to our hotel. On our way there, we had one more stop to make – to meet the pastor of the nearby church who provides support to Remember Youth for Change. While at the church, we were shown yet another delight that originated in Bienve’s wise and generous heart. We had the pleasure of meeting a band of mostly young people and the band’s director. They played “Amazing Grace” for us and it was beautiful! I could not help cheering and clapping for them to offer my gratitude and support.

We went to another room and met a budding pianist.

Bienve is looking for 2-3 saxophones to add to the band. I am making this my project over the next few months.

Let me know if you have a saxophone or other instrument that wants to be used in Africa!

Bienve knows that music is a healer – along with good work, small business + industry, gardens, community, and all the offerings he generates.

We finally did get to our hotel, and I opted out of the evening meal. I needed rest, and Bienve would be driving us back across the border to Rwanda the next day to catch our flight home. I had brought some protien bars along to supplement any missed meals or hungry moments and 2 of them served as dinner that night.

I fell asleep in short order.

Would you like to know more about Goma’s nonprofit Remember Youth for Change? https://www.facebook.com/rememberyouthforchange

Walking at the Bulango Camp

by 8hummingbirdway

The Africa Posts

The sun was hot and high as we left the church, where the meal and the dancing and singing and laughter and connection took place. We (Bienve, his staff, and my son and I) turned right out of the structure and walked down a wide walkway, a continuation of the road we had driven on. We walked with purpose, and came to a place where the land dropped 6 or 8 feet, providing a wall below for a large group of young men and boys to kick a soccer ball against. 3 walls of humans beyond the drop-off formed a practice area. My son jumped down and gestured for the players to kick their best shots to him. They did. He served as goalie and missed the first 2 shots, then returned one, caught another, and on they played, shouting, cheering, laughing in the flow of this global pursuit of play, passion, physicality, and connection.

I realized during this time, approaching the soccer area and watching the action, that I had a protector. One of the staff members of Remember Youth for Change https://www.facebook.com/rememberyouthforchange had been assigned to (or assigned himself) to watch over me. I had met this young man on our visit to the office yesterday morning. I sensed he was one of those who had been abducted from his family to serve as a child soldier, but I don’t know this for a fact. He and one other man around his age (not much over 20) were always with us, sometimes driving. As Bienve and my son walked ahead, talking, this man was always by my side. I felt completely safe with him. I reached out for his hand or arm occasionally when I felt unsteady. He was always there, glad to help.

I referred to him later (to Bienve) as my bodyguard. I thanked Bienve for his presence. Thinking about this now, I believe that special concern and care for me arose from the text I had sent Bienve before we went to Democratic Republic of Congo, telling him of my husband’s wish that I not go to this country. Both of us were within arms length of protection, my son always with Bienve. I had not realized this at the time, had no idea that I was being watched over. I was not aware of this at the first camp, but I’m guessing he was there just outside the circle of children.

I wish I knew this young man’s name. I am not good with names in my own world, my own language. I know his name was told to me. (I had to ask several times to learn the names of Bienve’s wife and children.)

This young man, my protector in Goma, is the other person that I would like to help in some whay if the need ever arises. Payment for education, for a dowry? This is how one marries, I believe. Our driver in Rwanda told us he was saving for a dowry, to marry his chosen wife. Expenses are generally very small compared to here, but I truly have no knowledge of what this would mean. I would like this man to have blessings. I hope to talk to Bienve about it and to learn his name and express my willingness to help.

After 10 or 15 minutes, my son left the soccer field, we were brought to nearby toilets and wash station.

We walked back toward and past the church. Along our walks I smilled and greeted the people we passed with smiles and ‘bonjour.’ I’m not sure why, but the hardness and pain was gone from their faces. Did word travel about the meal, even though not everyone benefitted? About our serving the children, participating, connecting, the soccer play? Or perhaps they woke each day, newly grieving, and then the trauma subsided as the day passed and they engaged in their lives? I have no idea, but these people who had newly arrived at this massive camp looked into my eyes and smiled at me and said ‘bonjour’ in response to me. Not every one, but the majority.

Looking back, I felt I was witnessing healing at work, and I am so grateful for this.

We arrived a the humble small home of the “camp director,” where my son would give one of the new soccer balls to him. [This shelter was the same as all the others, and I have no idea what the role of the camp director is. One of the many questions I never thought to ask.]

I didn’t see the ball exchange hands, but I know it did. What I do remember is the humble prayer of gratitude that this man spoke in the open room. He gave thanks for the blessings of this day, the meal, the help, the connection, and for the blessing of us standing in his humble home on the floor of excrement. Bienve translated into English.

I remembered the kind and open face of this man, the camp director, from the events in the church. He ate with the church officials, he interacted with the people as a person of stature, and he served the food to the children.

The pastor also spoke with me in a friendly manner at one point, after he and I had eaten. I don’t recall the specific content of our conversation; it was in broken French and English. He served the people from behind the pulpit, but I did not see him engage personally. He may have. We all have our paths, but it struck me at the time that he and the other church officials ate on a bench behind the pulpit, out of sight. I know that I do not understand everything I saw. And there may be a value that I don’t understand in sustaining distance and formality.

As for me, I find close proximity and engagement to be the best path to help and healing.

Would you like to know more about Goma’s nonprofit Remember Youth for Change? https://www.facebook.com/rememberyouthforchange

After the Meal

by 8hummingbirdway

The Africa Posts

After the meal at the Bulango Camp, we walked outside a bit. Initially there were trees here, but almost all of their slim trunks were used to shape the structures that serve as homes for each family.

Some of this time is a blur. Looking back, I realize how sleep deprived I was. I haven’t fully returned to balance as I write these words about 11 days after this meal I reported on yesterday. Right now it is early morning here, and it is 9 hours later in Democratic Republic of Congo – afternoon.

That afternoon, I had been in Africa for 7 days after a 23 hour segmented trip through the sky during which I slept 4 hours. Aside from my one day of hand washing clothes and visiting the Nile, I had full days every day, sometimes up before 4 am and/or up until midnight or later. I had fallen, injured my knee – which provided an extra night short of sleep due to monitoring my injury, changing my bandages and making sure I didn’t bleed on the linen. I got stitches the following day; my knee is still mildly inflamed. I somehow adjusted to the 8 or 9 hour time change (depending on the country) by force of our schedule. We had spent time in 2 areas of Uganda, slept in an airport due to cancelled flight, climbed a slippery hill in search of gorillas in Rwanda, crossed the border by land into DRC, and spent 2 very full days in Goma with Bienve.

I am quite aware, due to my condition since my return, of my age. Did I say I am 68? I am in good form for my age. I have eaten concsiously since my 20s, I lived on a fairly steep hill for most of the past 25 years, I did a lot of bicycling for 10 of the past 15 years, I stretch daily and walk often, though I am slowing down the past 2 winters. All of this allowed me to take this trip, and I know I will return to well-being soon.

For peace of mind, I will visit a specialist in tropical infections soon, although I expect a clean bill of health. Something passed through my body in the first few days home, but I am feeling stronger daily.

The impact of this journey on my soul is immeasurable. For all of it I am grateful. I carry much more within my soul than I did when I left. The impact of each soul I connected with, each child’s and woman’s face I looked into, smiles shared, hands touched, steps walked beside, meals taken with – has left its mark. And I also hold a part of the loss in my heart, the loss that came before that which now shows in the faces I looked into.

And I hold the knowledge of each helping person who saw the need and created solutions. I hold within me the knowledge and experience of those who wielded help and showed me these comparatively small areas of our planet with people in need, as a result of loss and trauma. They showed me how they took personal action to provide others’ healing and ability to walk forward into their uncertain future.

I stress “small areas of our planet” because I know that loss and pain and trauma exist in many other places as well. Places we hear about on the news. Places we are not aware of. Some are in our communities. Some are next door to us. I know that loving others are nearby to help. The loving others who help those in need is an important part of my story, though I have not written about it fully. I have only a miniscule knowledge of it. I know a small handful of their faces, shown to me on this journey – honored, appreciated and loved by me.

I hope to extend myself in ways that will unfold as I walk forward. My way is a smaller and more personal way than the way of these who create organizations and attract other helpers and step forward powerfully and bravely in love and support of their fellow humans. Their names are Beka (who I have yet to write about), Kuol, Bienve, and there are many others – those with vision, and those who spend their time and resources in support of the vision of these leaders.

Either way, it matters whether or not we choose to help fellow humans within our reach.

I have witnessed and touched a great deal. Were it not for the blessing of being able to share my journey through this writing, I would not be able to process it. But I am – day by day – in gratitude and love and grateful absorption, release and transformation. Thank you for reading my words. For caring, for being willing to hold this knowledge I share.

I meant for this post to be about the walk after the meal. But this day and this meal is a huge aspect of what I am carrying and holding now. And so it turns out that I have shared a bit more about this more personal aspect of what I saw and carry within “After the Meal.”

Would you like to know more about Goma’s nonprofit Remember Youth for Change? https://www.facebook.com/rememberyouthforchange

Journey to Goma

by 8hummingbirdway

The Africa Posts

After the 3-4 hour drive from Kigali, Rwanda we arrived in Goma. We had no trouble, experienced no danger. All was calm at border crossing. No fear, bribery, military stops.

I have a great deal more to say about our impactful first day. But service is bad. I will have to report after we leave. Powers that want the valuable minerals here want to keep others at bay and weaken the tourist industry (safaries) and other industry here, especially in Goma.

I love Congo and her people.

I call for prayers for DRC (Congo).

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Being the ‘Momma’ in Africa

by 8hummingbirdway

The Africa Posts

While in Africa on this journey with my son, as he attends to his missions (the non-profit groups he founded and co-founded), I have the status of “the Momma.” Sometimes I hear “Hello Mommy” in a restaurant, a park, or informal gathering mostly from a woman. But in formal groups where my son has provided support and funding, I am clearly recognized in an official capacity as my son’s mama (or “Momma”, as I hear it).

This status of Momma is definitely an honor, especially when I am recognized as the mother of my respected son. I am 2nd in order of respect in any of these groups, including head teachers and others of status. I am introduced after him and given substantial credit for the man he is and his good work. They want me to say a few words to the captive audience. And I do. In educational groups where Literate Earth Project is the group represented I say how important books were in our family, how I read to my son from early on. That’s about it, I’m no orator. It was uncomfortable the first time, but I appreciate the recognition that his background and mother are an aspect of who he is, what he does. And I get to express warmth to a group in just a couple of sentences, where I may have only had a chance to speak personally with 2 people.

In DRC (Democratic Republic of Congo) there has been less call to talk. When I did speak, I said a few words about love – and especially honoring all children – in my broken French.

Interested in learning more about Remember Youth for Change, the local nonprofit group in Goma, DRC? https://www.facebook.com/rememberyouthforchange

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