G’s Journal—Day 9

Our plan was 10 days of i-ACT, but today is day 9 already, and we still have three days left in camps before returning to N’Djamena on our way home. The last day will be in Camp Gaga, where little Leila lives. I haven’t asked the rest of the team, but I’m thinking that we’ll be doing 12 consecutive days of i-ACT this time.

I’m not going to write too much about the specific people we saw today, since the video can tell that story. I will say that it was an exciting, emotional day at Farchana, seeing most of our old friends. It is great to see them, but they are still refugees.

When our SGN team meets, has conference calls, and gathers through e-mails, we regularly refocus our efforts by debating whether what we are doing is the best for the people we are trying to help, the survivors of Darfur. It is not an easy question to answer. We do not want to get stuck on figuring out what’s best for us as a group; we want to be light and streamline and effective in our contribution, even if small, to changing the way the world responds to genocide, starting right now.

One thing I mention at times is that I try to act with the urgency I would act with if it was my family sitting out here in the middle of the desert or, even worse, if they were still inside of Darfur. I’m not sure that I have been living up to that.

I’m having a hard time writing about this because it’s not all clear in my mind, and I think that is part of the frustration. I know that what we do with i-ACT, Camp Darfur, and our other SGN projects are the right, needed things to do. But, I also feel that I should be acting with more urgency and intensity, as if it was my family out there in the desert. It cannot be business as usual, as genocide is taking place.

With SGN, I was a part of more than seventy events across the US last year. We set up Camp Darfur more than fifty times in all kinds of communities—churches, high schools, university, town squares, State capitols, and parks. It is rewarding to see people moved to action; it makes me feel good, but it’s not about me feeling good. I just don’t want these actions to be routine. Samantha Power says that we must make louder noise. John Prendergast says that we must increase the heat. These increases cannot be gradual and linear. We must make it hotter and louder each and every day, many times over!

There is absolutely no excuse for what is happening in Darfur to still be going on after five years. Many will make an argument for why there’s nothing we can do about it—that it’s complex and inevitable. I don’t buy it, and our leaders around the world are the first to blame for allowing hundreds of thousands to die and millions to live less than human lives. After our leaders, it is then us, all of us, that are to blame. I know that guilt is not the best technique to convince others to become involved, but I guess right now I’m not in recruitment mode. Anyway, this entry is way too long now, and, after reading it, it’s not a very good one.

Help me out, though. Give me ideas on how we can increase the urgency of the activism out there. How can we get our leaders to take responsibility? Our friends here in the camps believe in us. They speak with urgency. Lives are being lost today.

Paz,
g

This was our first day in camp Farchana and it couldn’t have been more exciting. Below is 20 minute video that only covers about half of what occurred. We will try an play catch up tomorrow and keep you up to speed with the amazing developments.

Your Loving Eastern Chad Global Citizens!

Day 9

Her eyes are deeper than I imagined from the pictures and the video. Her pain more apparent with every word she speaks. She becomes solemn as she describes the day she left. The day her husband and 60 others from her village were killed. She walked 20 days with her 7 children with no food, no water, nothing. Attacks from above and bullets from the surrounding area chased her across the border. They walked at night, stopping only to make a small fire to warm up from the harsh chill before moving on at day break. We talk with her for more than hour, she barely cracks a smile. Her memories lie secured behind her eyes, the emotion surfacing as she repeats, “I am suffering, I am suffering.”

Fatna is one of the most courageous women I have ever met in my entire life. Her youngest son, only two months at the time of the attack in Darfur, has only known life in a refugee camp, and one without a father. Five years and five days is how long Fatna has struggled to survive in Camp Farchana. Her tent, equally as old as her stay, stands limply in near the kitchen area. I can see where the water leaks through and I ask her if she can show me inside.

Two small beds made of sticks one with a small patch of the tent as the primary cushion, the other with one blanket. Eight people sleep inside this tent. Her hands guide me around the tent showing the water damage and where a few of her children sleep on the sand when it’s not raining.

There are no programs for women and neighbors are just that, neighbors, Fatna explains. She doesn’t feel the community, she is alone with her kids.

Early in the morning we met several men working together to build a friend’s house. The proud new house owner, who previously was sleeping seven to his tent, smiled as we chatted with the men. They have meetings and who ever needs a home, they all work together to build it. Barn raising! A great way to support community. But these meetings are between men. And Fatna’s husband is dead.

We do not receive the same support as we did when we arrived here, Fatna begins to go into more detail of her life. They lack food, they haven’t been given soap in three months and they don’t have any clothes. Mansur and Darsalam are examples of this, they returned to Darfur in search of necessities they could not get here and to visit family. The people of Farchana are suffering.

We return to Fatna’s after a short break and a run to see the local authorities. This time we distribute the small canvass tiles for children to draw on as part of Tents of Hope. Fatna’s eyes light up as we give her a painted canvass to contribute to. I remember now that only when she introduced her kids earlier this morning did she smile. She has a beautifully strong smile. One that commands respect but also shows a little of her vulnerability, her experience over the last 5 years.

She begged, “Please if you can do the last thing that is needed to bring peace to Darfur. I want to return home.”

From Farchana, KTJ

Joshua and Jeremiah’s touching video from today. More at Abundant News