9/07/2009
Belinda and Her Family
This is Belinda, her husband Kitiso, and three of their four children. They were one of the many families that fled from Togo to Benin to escape military assault. I spent a lot of time walking and talking with Belinda. She used to be an English teacher, thus we had no problems communicating.
Belinda told me how they ran from their house in the dead of night when they heard soldiers approaching, how it was difficult because her husband has a crippled leg and her baby was screaming. She told me how they are always hungry in the camp and how the Benin locals have no respect for them. "We are all willing to work, but there is no work," she said.
She kept politely asking whether I could sponsor her family and help them relocate to another country. She had heard wondrous stories about refugees that were flown to Australia, Canada, and the USA, and given a house, food, clothing, and jobs. Some of what she had heard is true, but only in extreme cases. If she only knew of the cultural differences and the subsequent hardships thereof, she would have probably avoided the topic.
After visiting her house and examining the shoes her husband makes but struggles to sell, we exchanged emails. Before I left, she took my hand, looked me in the eyes, and said, "Please don't forget us."
So now I write, remembering them all, wondering how I can help them. I truly wish I could. But my means are so limited; myself being one that needs help and support from others. And I think, if anyone met this kind, polite, suffering family they would want to help them, surely? But they are one of thousands of families in that camp, all with similar stories of struggle. Where, when and how does it end?
Oh, Africa, my Africa.
Your hands are so rough, your belly grumbles so loudly.
You suffer so greatly, you rage so violently, and weep so deeply.
But your beauty remains burning brightly.
So too, my hope for your future grows daily.