Alice Walker- goddess of American literature!- writes about A Thousand Sisters…
I can’t imagine a more perfect book for arousing the power of American women (or women and men everywhere) to rush to the defense of our Congolese sisters. Lisa Shannon, runner extraordinaire, has with this forthright and readable book, crossed the finish line into the way of life the remainder of our time on this planet demands: she has entered the land of courage, compassion, and a fierce determination to stand by those who need us, where everyone understands they must be – our lives depend on it – a citizen of the world.
-Alice Walker
Okay, this one made me cry. I studied her work in college, we met in Congo, and in a few simple exchanges, she taught me some of the most profound lessons I learned on my journey. What can I say? The woman is amazing. Can’t thank her enough!!!! -Lisa
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.”
Lisa Ling, whose report on Oprah sparked this movement, writes about A Thousand Sisters…
While reporting for the Oprah Show, I called the Democratic Republic of the Congo the “worst place on earth.” When Lisa Shannon saw my report, rather than turn her back, she did something about it. Her commitment to the victims of one of the world’s greatest tragedies exemplifies the best in humanity. Her powerful story is an inspiration to all of those who think that their voice is too small to change lives. - Lisa Ling
I just can’t thank Lisa enough for EVERYTHING- her courage to be the first to tell these stories, for sparking the movement, for taking the time to read the book. Thank you Lisa!!!! -Lisa
Barefeet and pink pearls: Our Run in Congo! Part 1
On Saturday, we stopped by Generose’s house. She was busy with run prep: getting her hair relaxed and eyebrows done!
As we invited all of our sisters to the run, they were over the moon about joining, even though they knew they would not get a thing for it. The main question was what to wear? What kind of shoes? Most only had flip flops, so I decided I would forego running shoes and stick with my locally purchased sandals.
I woke up in the middle of the night to a raging thunderstorm, and couldn’t get back to sleep imagining our sisters running in the rain. Eventually it stopped, but not without leaving Bukavu seriously muddy.
We picked up two sisters who came into town the night before – my beloved “Wandolyn” in the book – I put her up in a hotel with a neighbor friend from home, a kind of girls’ weekend in the city! We drove to the run together.
Our sassy, wonderful Pygmy sisters, sponsored by Zero Footprint, were the first to arrive! As soon as their feet hit the ground, they began a non-stop marathon of song and dance that continued for hours!
As minivans pulled up, packed with our sisters, they emerged wearing their freshly ironed Run for Congo Women t-shirts — the hot item of the day! Forty-seven of our sisters came to pay it forward and became international leaders for Congo in the process. They all joined the song and dance, often in a circle.
The pygmy women continued to lead. (An amazing thing to watch since, when I met two of them a few years ago (as covered in the chapter “Sugar Cane” in my book), they talked about feeling “Zairians” – normal-sized Congolese women – could never accept mixing with them. So we were breaking down major social barriers!
Wandolyn is often wearing the trauma and overwhelm from her gang rape by the Congolese army and the recent death of her husband. Not today. Nobody brought up problems or trauma. This was a celebration. Wandolyn sang, danced and led the call-and-response. Later she commented, “We got great rest and good food! I have energy!” (What a girls’ weekend won’t do to recharge!)
In fact, many of the women who joined in talked about how much it meant to make time to spend with other women. To just get together with friends is a rare luxury here. As Michelle from Runner’s World pointed out – they don’t have book clubs or girls lunches or a daily workout. Today was special.
The policewomen arrived. Yes, policewomen! The mayor of Bukavu had arranged for a 100% female police force to protect us for the event! We announced how cool it was that in a country ruled by men with guns, women had come out to protect us today! All the same, they were reserved….initially.
Generose was among the last to arrive. She emerged wearing her Run for Congo Women t-shirt, a red suit jacket and suit skirt, with a long strand of pink pearls. Fabulous! I secretly found it hard to imagine better “up yours” to the militia who cut off her leg than showing up to run and help other women … in pink pearls!
At the start, it began to rain. With the women huddling together, I told them about all the runs I’ve done in the rain while thinking of them sleeping in the rain. I thought about adding the bit about them sleeping in the rain and kids dying, but with so many of them having actually lost children this way, I didn’t want to stir up that pain. I told all them about you, and how you would be running in the snow in New York and at midnight in Chicago … and they cheered like you would not believe. I read each and every message from solidarity gatherings around the world to our sisters. They were overwhelmed, so moved!
Generose gave a beautiful, articulate speech, shook the mayor’s hand, and got the women pumped up by re-framing the bad weather: Rain in Congo is considered a blessing from heaven, so our run was being blessed! (Way to play the positive, lady!)
I called the start, “Courage!” in French, to my surprise, women took off running fast — with a troop of police women running in time at their side. I ran (very slowly) behind Generose, while Michelle ran with the head of the pack, who logged 8:45 miles- in bad shoes!
As we hit stride, Generose’s shoe got so slippery and caked in the mud that she kicked it off. I kicked off my shoes too, so we could run together, barefoot.
Zainab Salbi, mentor, friend, and founder of Women for Women, writes in her foreword to A Thousand Sisters…
“Through the most honest and sincere portrayal of emotions balanced with an astute understanding of the politics associated with the conflict, A Thousand Sisters gives a human face to war by showing that the beauty and resilience of Congolese women shines through even the darkest times of war.” Zainab Salbi, Founder of Women for Women International and author of Between Two Worlds.
Zainab is one of my personal heroes! I can’t thank her enough for her undying support!!!!
John Prendergast, founder of Enough, demigod of the movement, writes about A Thousand Sisters….
“Congo is usually portrayed as hopeless and its women as victims. Lisa Shannon shines a spotlight on the hope that emanates so stubbornly from this complex country, primarily through her loving portrayal of her Congolese sisters. Instead of victims, these women are determined survivors, three-dimensional human beings who deserve our respect and solidarity.” - John Prendergast, Co-Founder of Enough and co-author with Don Cheadle of Not on Our Watch and The Enough Moment.
Thanks so much John!!!
Uganda, Denmark, Scotland, Canada, Mexico & Many States Confirmed for Sisters Solidarity Gatherings – Please Join Them!
Join those in Uganda, Denmark, Scotland, Canada, Mexico, Arkansas, Texas, Hawaii, Idaho, Washington, Florida, N&S Carolina, Colorado, Illinois, Arizona, Maryland, NY & other states who are wrapping Congo in love with Sister Solidarity Gatherings by Feb 28!
Be a part of this beautiful expression of love and solidarity for the women of DR Congo! This is an easy way to make a joyous and immediate difference in our world!
You don’t need to be a huge group. The power of 1 or 3 or 5 is huge when your whole heart is in it. Your spirit is what matters as we literally wrap Congo in love from all around the world.
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Asked about adopting Congolese children? A guest blog- Jilma Meneses, Our Family Adoptions
While I am traveling, I asked a few friends to pitch in with their stories of Congo. I hope you enjoy hearing them as much as I have. – Lisa
Our Family Adoptions: Jilma Meneses
An Unbroken Spirit:
I never set out to accomplish this. My first love is family and my second is education. I spent my time pursuing those goals. My life was full and so was my heart. But in 2001, I suffered a personal loss that made me look at my life in a new way. I questioned what I knew and trusted, and needed to re-assess. I was offered a mission trip to Latin America, but had already been there and knew it was not the right fit. A few weeks later I was offered an opportunity to go to Congo, to help build an orphanage in the city of Lubumbashi.
When I researched DRC, I was amazed to learn about the turmoil, war, and suffering the people of Congo had been enduring. At that point, little was reported in western media about the war and human rights abuses. The spilling of Rwandan genocidaires into Eastern Congo was poorly known. Rebel leader Laurent Kabila had captured the presidency from the fleeing Mobutu, but Kabila had just been assassinated by one of his own bodyguards.
When I arrived in Congo I was overwhelmed. The infrastructure was broken. It was as if time had stopped in the early 1960s. And in some sense it had. Since the Belgian colonial government pulled out of the country, there had been little advance in architecture or technology. The intersections had streetlights, but there was no electricity to power them. Lush street trees in the once-elegant city were being chopped down for cooking firewood.
I arrived at the site of the orphanage and it was a simply a cement foundation with a huge pile of bricks. At first I waited for the men to carry bricks, but when none did, I began to carry them myself. After a while, I was joined by a group of Congolese mamas dressed in bright colors, and together we carried bricks in the hot sun. We sang songs and laughed and spoke in the broken French I remembered from college. I was surprised to realize that each brick I carried lightened my load.
I laughed with the orphan girls. We played games together and sang more songs. One evening I spoke with Mama Francine, the orphanage director, and asked her, “Where will these girls go? This facility you are building is safe and wonderful, but you need to find homes for the girls. Where will they go when they cannot live here any longer?”
Mama Francine looked at me and simply replied, “Why don’t you adopt one?”
What could I do? My husband and daughter were at home in the US and didn’t know what I was experiencing. I stayed awake all night because I couldn’t sleep. Could we adopt? What would that be like? How would a young Congolese girl fare when transplanted into America?
I could write of the waiting, pondering, questions and worry I had. But the answer is this: my husband and daughter were as excited and eager to adopt as I. The logistics were complex, and we had to organize many details because we did our own adoption. There were no adoption agencies working in DRC at that time, so there was no roadmap to follow. But in 2003, our Congolese daughter joined us in America, and we became a family of four. My life was full – I focused on family and education. I returned to my career.
But my heart was not full.
I remembered all those other faces. All those other girls at the orphanage. Those lost boys on the street with distant eyes.
I spoke of my experiences in Congo to friends and family. I told them what I had learned and what the Congolese people were enduring. After a while, we had friends come to us and ask if it really was possible: “Do you think we could adopt from DRC, too?”
I helped them adopt their daughters. The word spread. I helped other families adopt their daughters. I helped a family adopt a son.
Despite my fulltime career, my children and husband, I took on a second job. Well, it would be a job if I got paid for it. But I don’t. And I wouldn’t want to. My attorney’s license allows me to represent families in their adoption proceedings. I built trustworthy relationships with DRC attorneys. I organized assistance programs for the orphanages. Now I assist adoptive families who are able to commit to a lifetime relationship with DRC – who know their adoption promise extends to all of Congo, not just their adopted children.
To date, we have helped 20 children of Congo find families. We have seventeen more adoptions in process for 2010 alone.
I never set out to accomplish this. I think of all those children who need food, who need love, who need a family. There are 5 million orphans in DRC. That is an overwhelming number. But I hear my daughter laugh, and she has an unbroken spirit. She is American, but she is Congolese. The songs of the mamas working in the hot sun that day still echo in my ears. And every brick I carry lightens my load.
Sisters Solidarity Gatherings – Msgs of Support & Report Outs Here!
With Sisters Solidarity Gatherings happening all around the US and the world over the next two weeks, they need a place to post their messages of love and support to the women who will be running in our inaugural Run for Congo Women-Congo.
So post your Gathering messages here as a comment! Post a short statement before Feb. 25th to be translated and shared before the Bukavu run start. Let our sisters know you are with them at every step of their courageous journey as they rebuild their lives! Then also share about your gathering after you have it, including the date, place, how many women, men & children attended, any donation total for your group, where you walked or ran. Help us to see and feel like we were there with you!
And thank you for being a part of this!
For anyone still wanting to join us in making this immediate and joyful difference in our world, just email email hidden; JavaScript is required. You will receive all the materials and support you need to have a great gathering!
Dungu Vignette
Too Much to Remember:
Met with Koko’s Uncle Alexander again today. He continued his epic story of the LRA attack where four of his sons and one grandson were killed, four grandchildren abducted …
He and his elderly wife were badly beaten, spent 5 days walking to safety along LRA laden roads lined with burnt huts and the dead. Five days with no food, no sleep.
It Left me with many questions. Do I push too hard? Is it worth making them relive these stories? What questions to ask and which to leave alone? I’m no journalist.
As he described the story of his grandson’s murder, he broke down crying. It’s too much to remember. Too many losses in 1 day. Then he got up and left.
