|A slightly bemused Kenny.|
He lives with around 200 other Congolese refugees in a camp in Bujumbura.
I had absolutely no idea what I was going to. I'd put in my bag a colouring book and felt-tip pens and my Tigers rugby shirt. I'd decided that it would be nice for Kenny to have the shirt, as the day he almost died, was the day the Tigers won the Aviva Premiership. And I got to watch both events!
The refugee camp is set behind high walls, all topped with coils of razor wire. It is a totally anonymous looking place. We rolled up in a battered old Bujumbura taxi. The guard on the gate looked a little wary of us. Three muzungus and a Ugandan. But he let us in anyway. It was all very quiet and peaceful. There seemed to be a few people wandering around, but not much going on. We told another guard we had come to see Kenny and his family. The guard trotted off across the camp and we were seated on a bench near the gate.
What happened next was very much the same as what happens when you stand on an ants nest. Only it wasn't ants that appeared from everywhere. Children first and then women, just seemed to stream out from behind every prefabricated wall. Within seconds we were surrounded. The children were desperately excited to have their photos taken, but didn't quite grasp the concept, that mobbing the photographer didn't actually make for a good photo!
As with so many of my experiences here, it was like being swept up in a tidal wave. All of a sudden I was surrounded by little faces. So many with that deep look of need, etched into their eyes. Tiny children the size and age of my own grandchildren, being pushed and shoved in all the excitement. I went into photographer 'mode'. I have discovered, that the children love to see the photo on the camera screen after it is taken. So I went into click, click, show.
These next ones, left me very little room to shoot. I was backed up against a flexible wall, that was giving way when I lent on it.
But even in a place like this teenagers exist! Most of the people were either young children, women or elderly people. But there were two teenage lads. Who felt it their responsibility to remind me of mine. Despite the language barrier between us, they managed to communicate to me that what the children really wanted was Bonbons. They were hungry, they said, they want food! It seemed so obvious at that point, how could we walk in here and bring nothing. So in my best kirundi I said 'ndagaruka' (I am coming back) and I set off with the taxi driver to find enough bonbons for, I didn't know how many children! Lots!!
Maybe I should answer a few questions you might be asking. These people are refugees from Congo. Generations ago they went from Burundi and settled in Congo. There is re-newed fighting in Congo and they are being forced from their homes back to Burundi.
I am now in the process of trying to discover more about the conflict in Congo. It has a very long history, but gets very little coverage in the worldwide news. I have just started reading a very interesting book 'King Leopold's Ghost' , it is opening up a history to me that I have never heard before.
The camp we visited is an 'Interim Camp' where the refugees should only spend weeks, to a few months. But because it is considered temporary it gets little, to no support from anyone. The people here have nothing. They sleep in a huge plastic covered tent area. They cook in another area. The photo can describe it better than my words.
Each family has to cook for themselves in this area. The 'cookers' are three stones with charcoal in the middle.
Having run out to get lolly pops and biscuits for the children, the question in my mind was, 'what do they really need?' The answer from most was, 'food and clothes'. They have all had to leave their homes in haste. Only bringing what they can carry. They have no income and no prospects of an income, as they are 'temporary' residents in the area.
I managed to slip my Tigers shirt to Kenny's mum, at the end of the visit. I wasn't able to explain why I wanted him to have it and I'm not sure he will ever get it. But it's the giving that matters not what happens next. That bit is up to God!! The colouring book and pens stayed in my bag. They seemed a little 'far-fetched' when it came to the needs the children faced. After, the lolly pops had been handed out, I saw two children clutching the bags that had contained them. They were a splash of colour in the otherwise brown-grey surroundings of the camp. It was hard to believe what I was seeing, in 2013. Children excited by owning an empty, plastic, lolly packet.
Again, I am faced with the question.
What am I going to do with this experience? How is it going to change my life?
I wonder how it is going colour my thinking when I return home to England for two months (July/August).
Perhaps most poignant of all, was the quandary I faced Saturday night when placing a plate of freshly cooked liver on the floor for our cat.
Should our cat really eat better food, than those children I met this morning?
Just to end on the usual slightly 'lighter' note. If you are wondering what happened to last weekend's Blog. It was lost in 'normality'. I was caring for my housemate, who had thrown herself down some stairs and rendered herself immobile for the time being. I was staggered to find that I actually found it hard work looking after one extra person! Me who has raised four children, struggled to keep up with the extra demands of tea and meals for one other!!
We did spend some time spotting the Blue headed lizard that had hitherto been illusive to my lens. We also enjoyed time sitting, challenging our ageing brains with a Take-a-Break puzzle book!