A Place Called Congo

February is my hardest month of the entire year and this year proves to not be any different. In four days, it’ll be exactly one year since we lost our beloved Mack Winsauer. I am sad that I cannot attend the service in honor of him, but I’ll be there in spirit.

This week started out with me calling my mom because I wanted to catch up with her. She informed me that my grandparents and aunt in DR Congo had been attacked by rebels. The people who had raised me had people break into their house, threaten them, beat them and demand for money and their cell phones. All of this was because they believed that my parents, my aunts and uncles in the States were loaded with money. What they didn’t know is that the family here is hardworking and living a simple life.

My aunt, when this was all happening, had miraculously escaped from the house. She ran long distances, running and jumping over things, yelling that they had come to kill her parents. To this day, she doesn’t know how she was able to escape except for the fact that she had God on her side.

As my mom was explaining this, I am crying. The fact that I am all the way across the country didn’t help either. I have no one to comfort me except my really close friend and I can’t even see my family. Each day, I called my parents asking for updates and what we can do to help our grandparents and my aunt. My issue throughout this was how am I supposed to focus on schoolwork when this is going on?

What was and is clear now is that they need to leave Congo. All the positive images I had of this place are being shattered with events like this. How has this happened? How is it that my grandparents who should be enjoying their lives are suffering like this? I got angry. What sort of system allows people like these rebels to come in and destroy families and communities only because they want money? I got even angrier thinking about what would have happened to my aunt.

As we all know, rape is being used as a weapon of war in Congo. When my mom and I were talking, we came to the same conclusion that the rebels didn’t simply want to kill my aunt. If she hadn’t escaped, they would have probably raped her and then taken her as a sex slave. If she was lucky, then they might have killed her.

This is the reality that my aunt is facing now. She isn’t waking up to Facebook or to go to school. She’s not staying at the house, which is completely destroyed, because these rebels want her. They didn’t come once, in fact, they have come back like three times and each time, the situation gets even worse and death is getting closer.

She needs to leave and she needs to leave now. There are so many issues keeping this from happening. Coming to America would be difficult because the entire process takes a while. Going to Canada might be a better option. Then, the issue of money comes into play. If I had my way, I would have brought them here already because Congo isn’t doing anything except causing more misery.

Why am bothering to write this? Why am I feeding Westerners with this negative image of Congo when they already have enough stereotypes?

I am doing it because it has to be done. We need to bring my grandparents and aunt out of Congo. They survived the attack this time but what about the next time? These people came after them with the intention to kill. Are there women’s rights organizations that might help me in learning more about seeking asylum and getting my aunt out? It’s easier for my grandparents to come since their kids are here but for my aunt, the road ahead of her is long. What do you all know about this issue?

Congo is my beloved homeland. I am a proud Congolese American. Once upon a time, I talked about going back and making a difference. I am starting to agree with my family that I would be putting myself in danger. Congo is a beautiful place and not everything that happens is horrible but this event shook my entire core.

Because of a system that has failed, left many people in poverty, women getting raped, thousands dying, the people of Congo who were able to leave can’t go back home. Because of this system, they have family back there that face danger and could potentially die at any moment.

I love Congo and maybe, one day I’ll go back but until then, I can only live life here saddened by what this Congo has become and what it has led people to do. This week was terrible, I must say. Sure, I can separate myself a little and do the college thing but this week was a reminder of the horrible conditions in this world.

I can’t believe that my grandparents and aunt were attacked and could have been killed. They need to come out of there. I still have hope and believe that God has a plan and that he isn’t going to let them die at the hands of the rebels. I still believe that Congo will turn around but it will take a lot of work. What I do know for sure is that my grandparents and aunt need to leave Congo and only then, will my family be able to eat, sleep and breathe.