Africa Is Not A Country

It took a day of negotiating some tedious government beauracracy, two on a train across Tanzania, and a lift from the UN, but we succeeded in one of my goals for the trip: visit my Congolese friends in Lugufu Refugee Camp. It was back in 2003 that a group of 18 students from Semester at Sea and I were able to meet and hear the stories of these six young men. My friend Watema Emmanuel's story was fairly typical: in 1998 his village in Eastern Congo came under attack by one of the militias in Africa's first World War. Only 12 at the time, he witnessed the murder of both of his parents and lost contact with his other relatives in the following escape to Tanzania. It is here that he has lived alone for the past eight years, managing to continue his education even through a serious bout with malaria last year.

We had kept in touch since but he was not expecting me since my last letter predicted I wouldn't arrive at the camp for another month. It was a joyful reunion, especially when we were also able to visit with the other friends I had made on my first trip to Tanzania. Even without any notice my friends were able to rassle up a vehicle from one of the Non-Governmental Organizations (NGO's) in order to give us the grand tour of the camp... no small favor since with two camps of 32 villages and tens of thousands of refugees this was a pretty big place. Indeed, these dusty mud huts spread out in a neat grid for as far as you could see, only occassionally broken up by a water station or school or some such thing. Without any jobs, the camp was pervaded by a sense of waiting for something. Needless to say it was a very impoverished, depressing place on the whole.

Being a refugee is about the worst position in the world to find yourself. You can't leave the camp to enter the country, you can't go back home to the war-zone. You have no country. You have no freedom. You are a prisoner. Confronted by this start reality, the group of students and I couln't help but try to draw some lessons of how to help with this situation. I was surprised to realize that however simple they may be, our answer is as true today as ever. First, we must support the efforts of the international community to care for the refugees. The UN High Commision for Refugees, Red Cross, World Vision... without these NGO's the refugees would quite simply die; not an exageration since these refugees found themselves forced into a barren wasteland.

Secondly, and more dauntingly, we must do our part to prevent war. That is how refugee crises start. War becomes even less of an acceptable option when we realize how totally it ruins the lives of those it touches. Fortunately, the Democratic Republic of Congo appears to finally be emerging from its five year conflict that claimed a staggering four million lives. The first elections in over forty years were completed last week with Joseph Kabila winning the presidency in relatively peaceful elections (but hold your breath...) If the peace holds, and if we can further strengthen the international community, perhaps Watema and the fifteen million refugees like him will live to see better days.