The perpetrators are still in power (Reason #77)
Because Bashir said this after a journalist caught policing beating a women violently, “There are people who say they feel ashamed about this sentence. They should review their interpretation of Islam because sharia has always stipulated that one must whip, cut, or kill,” said Bashir.
For our friends, who are your friends (Reasons #78-95)
Our friends Jimiya, Khadija, Ali, Khaltouma, Bussina and Salma, Murtada, Sulieman, Sadia, Ali, Alfader, Sader, Hafsa, Alhapis, Bashir and Bashar, Hassayna, Rahma.
Why Darfur? Because I can make a difference and so can you (Reasons #96-98)
As the Umda said, the new generation of children from Darfur must create their own road. One that is both from the old ways of Darfur taught to them by their parents and the new traditions and culture from life in the camps. “Only they will know what the path will be.”
This reminds me of a saying that the villagers and NGOs of Thailand used to paint on their protest banners, “Every one has a right to choose their own future” (reason #96). In many ways this statement of determination lead me to work for Darfur. It was shortly after I returned from living and working in Thailand that I was introduced to the genocide in Darfur. I remember thinking that this was my chance. I told myself many years before in high school that if I had been alive during the Holocaust I would have hid a person, or passed food to the ghetto, or tried to smuggle people to a safer place. Darfur is my chance to act for all those we lost in the Holocaust, and since, to the world’s worst hate crime, genocide (reason #97).
When I walk the camps, holding the hands of all the children, I feel I am working for each one of them individually. Working to bring them peace and a better life. And if I cannot bring them the better life, at least I can help build a road or bridge that might get them there. I know that I can make a difference in their lives, and I must never give up on their hope (reason #98) no matter how challenging, and sometimes frustrating it may be.
The night after our last visit to the camps is always sad. I become so attached to people I meet and I regard them as close friends. It was a year and a half between our last visit and this one. I hope that this time it will not be as long. On this visit, we heard most often that the Darfuris want us to return soon and often because our visits (and your messages to them) give them hope that they will be able to one day choose their own future.
peace, ktj
Looking at Hassayna (#99 What would you wish for your own child?)
“All of these here, born here in the camp,” the camp leader told us, as we look at a group of wide-eyed kids. The others in the group, they were probably either in their mother’s womb or too young to remember Darfur. He also said that they do not have the resources to dedicate curriculum towards Darfur history in their schools, so that it’s up to the parents to pass on their culture, through stories and songs.
Today was our last visit to a camp during this trip, my ninth i-ACT Expedition to Eastern Chad since 2005. I’m excited to go back home to see my children, right in time for the holidays. I miss them and I worry about them, even though I know they are safe and well looked after. Sometimes I wonder if I bring too much of my “eyes of a father” to the camps. Do I have too high of expectations, seeing children from my own western perspective? Do I have the right expectation, or am I measuring the wrong way from the start? Should I wish for the little, beautiful girl with the black scarf around her neck the same things I wish for my son and daughter?
I am realistic enough to know that my little team and I do not have the power to bring immediate positive change to the tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, and millions of children in this region alone that deserve it. Here I am coming on my ninth trip, and I am seeing so many more children still with little hope to return to a peaceful home. It can become paralyzing. So I try not to think about it, and our team huddles to figure out what we can do–for that little, beautiful girl with the black scarf, and her family, friends, neighbors. We figure, what if our own families, friends, and neighbors are touched and also pitch in; then maybe we can help more!
You know, to hell with status quo expectations and looking at all the limits and what cannot be done. What CAN we do?
As I walk the camps, I always make sure that I look in to the eyes of a child, one specific child out of the dozens following us, so that I do connect with them, with my eyes of a father.
Gabriel
Reason #100
Share your own reason Why Darfur….
The Women of Goz Amer
ACT
Make a commitment to stay connected to the issue and ready for action over the next month. These days are crucial. We’ll be sending out actions alert, and Sudan Now will be a focal point for important collaborative advocacy. Check out what they have going on right now, and sign up to their e-mail list!
Pictures from Day 11
Heartache (Reason #69)
“My heart hearts” she says when I ask about returning. She describes her burnt village, and the pain she feels when she thinks of all those she has lost.
Think Global, Act Local, deja vu (Reasons #70-73)
On our first day in camp Goz Amer we had a wonderfully deep and thoughtful conversation with several camp leaders and teachers. These leaders are worldly, yet they feel like they are stuck on an island. Here are a few things that struck me as reasons Why Darfur…
“Education is not just important for Darfuris but for all the world.” (Reason #70)
“We have no right to say what we need and do what we need. It is not free.” (Reason #71)
“Now the Sudan just trains many militia to control the situation outside the camps [internally displaced persons’s camps]. So no one can go outside…it’s like a prison.” (Reason #72)
“The situation is Darfur is worse.” (Reason #73)
Fresh Eyes (Reasons #74-76)
This was my first visit to Goz Amer camp. It felt so different than any other camp. Each camp really has it’s own feel to it, just as each urban city in America or Europe does. We visited with the schools first snapping photos, greeting teachers, and getting our first chance to walk the camp. The majority of the school buildings really are in terrible condition. Besides Oure Cassoni where they were still tattered tarps on our last visit, these classroom conditions might be the worst we have seen (Reason #74). There are no fences around the schoolyards and animals and people walk freely through them
The schools are just on the edge of the camp. Separated from the shelters and dwellings by a main road that takes you all the way to Sudan, only 100 kilometers away. All the NGO services, school, medical, the youth and culture center are on this side of the dirt highway. Beyond these buildings is a wadi that is till running with water. The Darfuris can fish, and trees, fruits, and vegetables grow tall and strong. The refugees were the first to say, when we asked about life in Goz Amer, that they are lucky compared to the situation of others. They are humble (Reason #75)
Today was market day and the camp was teaming with movement. Children running freely without supervision (pre-school was something we discussed with the Umda, one of the leaders, of the camp). Women carrying not just one item on their head, but many times two or three, plus something in their hand. Some ride donkeys or guide them through traffic. There are horse drawn carts and motor bike taxis that scurry down the main road.
There are several businesses open during the day in the camp and many, many women sell okra, tomatoes, guava, and papaya. The access to resources really does make a difference in the lives of the refugees. They are able to sustain themselves more than those in the other 11 camps. They are working hard to survive, but remain in limbo. There life is still not entirely full (Reason #76)
On the drive back, I am amazed at the day, and how deep our conversations went with the Umda’s. I can’t wait to meet the female Umda tomorrow and peek into the lives of a few students. The ride to the camp, about a half hour, is very slow in the convoy but the forest we pass through is teeming with wildlife.
Today was a very good day.
peace, ktj
ACT
For our last day in the camps we would love to share with the Darfuris of Camp Goz Amer your messages to them. Leave your personal note or comment to them below and we will pass it on during our last day in the camps!
