Counselors for Hope was our team name.
What does hope mean? The Rwandese people embodied that well for us.
I was humbled and inspired by the hope that seemed to hide in
unexpected places all throughout that remarkable little nation.
But my sense of hope was shaken on one
day. During much of the time we were in Rwanda, we were largely cut
off from worldwide media. Although we could have turned on the
television and watched BBC coverage, we simply did not have time to
do so. However, on the morning that we were to depart Kigali and
drive to Gisenyi where we would take a boat across Lake Kivu to Iwawa
Island, our driver was late. We were finished all the tasks that
needed to be done. So we flipped on the television, and found
ourselves glued to the worldwide coverage. The big headline that day
was Syria. Children were being tortured by the government in
attempts to get information concerning the possible subversive
activities of their parents. The news anchor stated that genocide is
happening in Syria. There was a quiet solemnity that hung over us
for a period of time; the long-term effects of genocide on
individuals, families, on the church, and on a nation is what our
team was witnessing in Rwanda.
After a beautiful drive up to Gisenyi,
we pulled up to the gate of a refugee camp built to house 2000
Congolese people fleeing the violence in the DRC. That day, over the
past weeks, over 100 refugees a day had been pouring over the border
until the camp now contained somewhere around 11,000 people - more
children than adults. That day, if you stood on the border between
Gisenyi, Rwanda and Goma, Democratic Republic of Congo, you could
hear gunshots. When we stepped into the camp, we were immediately
separated and surrounded by children who wanted attention. It was
the only time during the trip that I was completely emotionally
overwhelmed with a feeling of helplessness, powerlessness, and
hopelessness. The Rwandese worker who was accompanying me while we
were in the camp used the G word - "It's a genocide." It
was terrifying to know that on that single day, two genocides were
happening not too far away. Entire families are being killed. One
or two might survive. Women and children are experiencing
unspeakable trauma, yet have to continue eking out food, water, and
shelter to survive. Cycles of violence, cycles of trauma.
What is justice? Where is the God of all comfort and hope?