Ghana Conferences, the Slave Trade, and Cecille’s Hope

I am writing this blog lying on my stomach in bed in Bujumbura. Although it is not an ideal posture for composing, it is one in which I can be in for an extended period of time without excessive pain. Apparently I injured my back during my travels to Ghana last week. I probably should not be surprised since in my paranoia about having luggage stolen I stuffed everything I needed for 10 days into my hand carry and briefcase. For those of you who are used to American airports where an extendable gate takes you right into the plane and airport, that is not the case here. You descend by staircase, cross the tarmac, and then go back up the stairs to the gate in the airport (or into the plane). I think I hurt my back taking the bag out of the overhead storage, or descending the stairs.

On the good side, I really prefer to go outside before and after a flight, because it gives me a chance to see the plane, smell the jet fuel, and feel the weather when I come and go. I am becoming very aware of how much time we spend in climate controlled conditions in the USA. That is quite a contrast to Burundi where we live in open air houses and feel the changes in weather constantly. We have to get used to the smells as well. Sadly Bujumbura smells vaguely like burning to me at all times. That is probably due to the fact that everyone has to burn all of their garbage at their homes, since there is no municipal trash collection. (For anyone who hates paying taxes, you should spend a few weeks in a city where you don’t have to. Find out what you lack,--schools, ambulances, fire trucks, garbage collection, playgrounds, parks, trustworthy police, safe drinking water, a house without an 8 foot wall around it topped with embedded broken glass.)

But I diverge, back to Ghana. The purpose of going to Accra was to participate in strategic planning (5 year plans) for MCC for its future, especially in Africa. They asked all of us working in countries in West and Central Africa to meet in Ghana, and bring some of our local partners. I traveled with 2 other Burundians, and a Rwandan partner. (Zachee, as well as Levy who runs a peace ministry in Burundi, and Cecille who works with a group called Femmes en Dialogue in Kigali, Rwanda- she is in the front in this picture) All of our partners made some great contributions to our planning and I think they really enjoyed getting a chance to travel. As part of the planning workshop Cecille shared some of her story and I will share it with you in hopes that you might be inspired by her work:

Femmes en Dialogue brings together women who were victims of the 1994 genocide, (widowed, children killed, attacked themselves) with women whose husbands are currently incarcerated for committing crimes against humanity by participating in the genocide. Cecille shared some dramatic stories about women who have met and have supported each other in the group even though, in some cases, the husband of one was the murderer of the other’s family. She has witnessed some tremendous acts of reconciliation and healing. Women have forgiven each other, as well as the incarcerated men. Widowed women have also been able to identify with the plight of those whose husbands are imprisoned and left devastated by guilt and loss of livelihood.

Cecille is well qualified to be doing this work and her passion for it comes from firsthand experience. She was very young and just married in a mixed ethnic marriage when the crisis erupted. (She is tutsi, her husband is hutu.) When the hutu’s were killing tutsi’s in Kigali, her husband protected and hid her and their children. They all survived the massacre (although not her extended family). The story does not end there though, her husband was later captured and accused of crimes against humanity himself and is currently incarcerated where he has been for the past 14 years, awaiting a hearing on whether he will ever be released. She is a courageous woman and I have great respect for her work and hope for the future. Her ministry is definitely inspired by her unique dual perspective on the tragedy of the events of 1994. I also see in her a confidence in a Lord who will someday ‘turn her mourning into dancing’.

The time was not all work though. There was opportunity for sight seeing and shopping as well. One of the things I bought was a new Djembe (Ghanaian drum) to replace the one I had had stolen when I was in Chicago earlier this year. I bought the biggest one I could find, and it cost about $35 with the bag! It is really nice and survived the trip back to Bujumbura without a problem! Here is a picture of the store where I bought it in downtown Accra. Notice the store is called In God We Trust. Many of the businesses had names expressing religious sentiments. I had less trouble with that one than He Has Made All Things Beautiful Fashion Boutique and the pious Jesus Above All Liquor Store.

Among the sights we saw were two slave castles along the coast. Elmina Castle, and Cape Coast Castle. I am including pictures of these here. We took a 2 hour tour of Elmina, built in 1482 by the Portugese and heard some of the atrocious history of the European slave trade. It was ironic that the fort originally was used to trade goods with Africans and only later became a trade in human beings when a market for cheap, durable, human labor emerged in the warm climates of the new world (North and South America). Africans were found to be the strongest workers and were captured and sent to the Americas for labor. The conditions for keeping them was appalling as they were prepared for transport. Men and women were separated and kept as many as 1000 per cell with no bathrooms, and one meal per day. It is estimated that only 30% of slaves survived from capture to arrival in the Americas. The gratuitous cruelty of conditions in the castle defy belief--including the fact that the women were frequently used to satisfy the sexual desires of the men who captured them.
(Ironically, the children of these unions were separated and given education at the castles which later evolved into the Ghanaian formal education system after slavery ended.)

It is of course even more tragic for me to see the complicity of the church in all of this. The chapel was an auspicious presence in the center of the castle. I do not know how the priests who worked there serving a Lord who was stripped and beaten, reconciled their work supporting the men involved in the slave trade. Here is a picture of me standing on the roof overlooking a market, and another of me next to a cell where insubordinate captives were put for discipline. There was no exit from here. You were simply put in, starved, dehydrated, and not taken out until you were dead. Its value was deterrence and not reformation.

I got back to Burundi on Friday morning and got home to find the house still intact. It is good to be back but it is still lonely without Oren and Rebecca. I was able to talk to them frequently on Skype. They are doing well in Baltimore. Oren started preschool and really seems to like it. He has said some things about missing Burundi as well, so I think he will be ready to come back when we do. Rebecca is doing well with the pregnancy. She told me she misses work in the field almost as much as I miss caring for Oren in my free time.

I did read a book recently called The Shack on my flight. It was interesting and wrestles with the problem of suffering. I am currently reading a book called Africa Works about the failure of institutions and the state in sub-Saharan Africa. Not light reading.