Preaching to the Dead: An interview with escaped FLDR
I sat down this morning with two FDLR (Interahamwe) prisoners being held by the Congolese army. They were in a piss-poor Congolese army prison- all prisoners effectively starving (no food for 5 days). No toilets- they peed in their prison cells. One was Congolese, abducted many years ago, still able to smile and interact. The other, however, was something else entirely. Barefoot, in pilling red pants hanging on skin and bones frame. The boy is Hutu Rwandan, and 16 years old. And so in his short life, he has lived one face of this war. He was a baby when his parents fled post-genocide Rwanda. After a short while in refugee camps, his family retreated to the forest in Congo. Eventually his mother returned to Rwanda, and his father was killed in FDLR gun-battles.
While my war-correspondent friend quizzed the boys about the details of their life with the FDLR (nothing I hadn’t heard before- less in fact, because they were in prison and cannot admit to any crimes), I studied the Rwandan boy. I’ve never seen eyes like this, evasive, ill at ease. A stunned animal under threat? Beyond repair? Extinguished soul?
Perhaps so. His state of being is haunting. But then, I think, he ran away from the militia- and risked death in doing so. Where does that impulse arise for a last ditch attempt at life- to flee your family, your militia, the forest, the only life you’ve known?
I’m hopelessly predictable in these situations. At the end of the interview, I chimed in with a little pep talk about how brave he was to run away, and the whole new life that awaits him in Rwanda. Healing is possible.
In truth, I’m not sure if it is. I want to know the extreme corners of the human psyche, and where those hard lines are, the ones we like to label, “point of no return.” Can there be a soul-resurrection, really?
I want to find him again in Rwanda.
I want to track him through a lifetime. So I ask if I can maybe visit him sometime in Rwanda. He responds, “You are most welcome.”
I guess in the meantime, some positive re-inforcement can’t hurt.
Over lunch, my reporter friend laughs. ”It was sweet. They are so beyond any of your words. You are preaching to the dead.”
I agree with Sid, about having planted a seed. There is light and hope in there somewhere…who knows what your comments can do.
I would have to disagree with your reporter friend, because history shows us that there are people who can survive the ugliest of atrocities, yet become advocates of hope and peace.
This reminds me of accounts I’ve read from WWII, survivors of Nazi death camps who went on to write about their experiences. Yes, they did survive and come into more comfortable lives, but with atrocious psychological damage. At the same time, many of these survivors went on to do great work, philanthropically and through education, to make this world a little bit of a better place… perhaps they heard a word of hope spoken from someone along the way, someone from the outside. Who knows?
You planted a seed, Lisa, as you so often do.
That is why we must hold the perpetrators in our hearts (and for those who believe in prayer, hold them tenderly and resolutely in our prayers). If more of us held the perpetrators as well as their victims in the field of love and our deepest compassion whenever we hear stories of depraved cruelty, the world might begin to turn on a different axis altogether.
How could this boy have been anyone other than who he was, how could he have done anything other than what he did, given what he was raised in every day of his young life? All of those child soldiers like him are the biggest victims of this war…they have never known their own goodness. How heartbreaking. Whatever he has done, he deserves our compassion and love. Would we have done differently in the same circumstances? Not likely.
I am not sure I agree with your reporter friend. I take that back, I do, to a certain degree. Seeing the spirit death, lifeless faces of war torn countries has to speak the words that he/she said to you. However, I don’t think positive reinforcement or words from love should ever be in vain. Are we ever really sure what effect our words or presence have on another? I don’t think that there is a effective tool to measure that. I, like you, can not help but wonder if a human being can be ‘too far gone’ for a chance at living. The truth being that, maybe, I just refuse to believe that is the case. Your words are hopeful and inspiring. I think part of the answer is that these brave individuals get some repetition in those words and their meaning. You have seen first hand the evolution of the women of Congo. Through your work, and that of WFW, these women are transformed from complete despair to strong, confident women. Who says that is not possible for those like Hutu?