8/27/2009

Togolese Refugees

Mercy Ships recently ran a dental clinic at a refugee camp in Benin. I went along to find out more.


On February 5, 2005, President of Togo Gnassinbe Eyadema died following a supposed heart attack, finally bringing his 38-year rule to an end. An election followed in April of that year. Reports of corruption, a change in constitution, and an oppresive military presence all suggested that the win of Eyadema's long-serving party, the RPT, was far from democratic. Violence followed and thousands fled to neighbouring countries.

More than 25000 Togolese escaped to Benin where two refugee camps were established to accommodate them. Now, four years later, only one camp called Agame remains, with a population of only 3000. Many have returned to Togo and dispersed into Benin. Those that remain are fiercely proud of their homeland and refuse to live in a state governed by the RPT. Their prayers may finally be answered in next year's election.

I have read so many stories and articles about refugee camps. It was rather surreal to walk in one and was not at all what I had expected. The people were friendly and healthy, the camp itself was safe, there was clean drinking water, organised farming, and each house, though made from sticks and plastic, was neat and organised, each with its own tiny garden.

I guess it was not always this way, though. The camp has had years to settle and its population has decreased drastically since its opening. I spent much of my time there speaking to refugees, hearing their traumatic stories of how they fled in the night from military attacks and lost all their possessions. I was saddened. At the same time, I feel more inspired to pursue a career in freelance journalism.

I asked one of the people I interviewed whether many journalists still come to the camp. "Not since 2006," she said. Agame is obviously old news. If there's no tragedy, I guess there's no story, right? Let's pray there's no need for journalists to return to Agame next year.


8/24/2009

Togo


I'm a bit behind with my updates. Recently, I traveled to Togo with 16 other people, climbed the highest peak in that land, swim/stood in/under two waterfalls, played football on a misty hillside with some local kids, rode up and down a mountain pass on a motorbike three times, and, on our return trip to Benin, squashed into an even smaller van which had to be push-started on several occasions because the battery was dead. It was a great trip in a beautiful country with inspiring friends. Good times.






8/06/2009

Broken Hearts

This week, seven Liberian children, all with congenital heart defects, came to the Africa Mercy for echocardiograms.


This photo was taken by my friend and fellow writer Meg. The baby at my fingertips is not well. He has fluid on the brain, a hernia, and a hole in his heart. His flaring nostrils, the rapid rise and fall of his swollen chest, and the lugubrious roll of his eyes from side to side all indicated he was in distress. Every few seconds he would clench my finger with his tiny hand, causing me to feel the feverish heat of his frailty.

And there I stood, staring at his quiet, fading existence, thinking, "All I can do for you, little one, is pray. Even if all the operations modern medicine has to offer were available to you, would your weak, damaged frame ever be able to endure them all? Only our Heavenly Father can allow the healing to take place."

Why does man have a tendency to resort to prayer only after everything else has been tried? If we doubt what we pray, how can it happen? Do we underestimate the power of He who dwells within us?

The only thing I had to offer that child was indeed the greatest thing anyone could have done for him. I prayed, faithfully.

The following day, he was flown back to Liberia with his mother and the other children. There they will await the news of whether they will receive heart surgery in Israel. I knew not his condition when he departed.

8/04/2009

Shipyard Shenanigans

On Sunday, some friends and I rode upon bicycles into the shipyard near from where our floating home is docked. Making sure to ask for authorization before entering, we found the guards and workers to be remarkably welcoming and friendly. So much so, that we even managed to get a guided tour of a massive crane used for lifting containers. The view at the top was impressive, and the photos we took, even more so. Always requesting permission, we managed to climb onto a host of heavy machinery and trucks, and got notably dusty and greasy in the process. Good times.


Tractor.

Bulldozer.

The crane.

The view from the control box. You can see the ship in the distance.

At the controls. Oh boy!