There are moments during the day when a thought about Congo passes through my mind. I think of what people must be going through in Eastern Congo. Of how many women and girls may be getting raped or communities being displaced due to the fighting at this instant. Of the number of little boys who may be abducted by rebels and turned into child soldiers. Of the loudness of the victims’ screams or how many times one may cry in a day; crying all day must be exhausting…
There are moments in the day when I question my role in raising awareness about the situation. Of my role as a global citizen; as a human being at being so irresponsible and selfish for not doing more; saying more. Life can be so precarious and sometimes our thoughts are the only place we can truly be sincere without being afraid of offending people with such sensitive issues.
My older sister was brave today, she said all the right things, she was bold enough to speak the truth without qualms of offending others. There is a problem in Eastern Congo and this I share with you from her Facebook wall because it rings a chord to me…. I hope that it does the same to you in remembrance of our loved ones:
Morning all! I couldn’t have slept much for in the little sleep that I had my thoughts took me back to my younger years. first I want to apologise to my family for what I am about to do here…for perhaps all that I have posted, all that fight to awaken the mind about the continuous brutal atrocities that shed blood and causes pain in in the region that both my parents come from; that I come from pains them simply because they want to forget the nightmares. I apologise to my family, here and abroad ~ they know who they are.
I remember being 8 or 9 years when I saw YaYa on her summer trip from BKV to Kinshasa ~ she was a beautiful and angelic young lady. I remember her.
I also remember when news came that she had gotten married to a mwami. I could not attend but I remember. I remember the way she smiled in that picture standing next to her new husband. She looked beautiful.
I remember too when news came that she was brutally killed along with her husband and all of her husband’ family, somewhere in the hills where naturally she now then belonged to. She was with child then but ruthlessly, they killed her. I know because I saw the pictures. As we meet here and around the world, we think of her but we dare not talk about it bcs it pains so much.Oh yes! I remember news came too then, it wasnt just her but my little cousin, her youngest sister was killed too. As a child I didn’t understand how heart broken a mother, a father, siblings of hers must have felt.
Whilst today we know she rest, we still hurt, we dare not talk of that time, we remember them.
In 2004, I met a lovely young lady. Her name was Gode. she was younger than me. she was named after my mother and did look so much like her, stood just like her. hell yes I was at time jealous of her and my mother, her auntie’ relationship.
She grew up in Kindu and me in London. World apart but we loved one another bcs we were family. she was my cousin.
Gode suffered in silent for a long time. At least to me she did not tell me of her horrors. Months after I had left Bukavu for London, I had learned that she had passed on. Yes she was raped then, she was brutally hurt then but never, ever whilst with her for a year whilst living with her, had she whispered; cousin many years ago I was raped and
I had caught… I miss her
I miss them
In remembrance of our loved ones….. gone too soon but never forgotten ❤