IDP Camp
February 24, 2009

On Tuesday, we had a full schedule to complete before the end of the day: visit ALARM/Congo projects and give out clothing to men, women, and young girls at the northern IDP camp in Goma.

Our day started off by collecting new clothing purchased in the city and distributing them in the camp of refugees. A few days before, Theopholis compiled a list of people’s names from the camp who would receive clothing. The day we arrived in Goma, Kevin gave additional funds from Berean Community Church members to buy more clothing. The ALARM staff was touched by the gift and praised the Lord for the addition clothing that could be purchased and distributed.

As we drove through the city toward the camp, our party passed the airport, which was captured by Nkunda’s rebel forces a few months earlier to start the conflict with the Congolese government. Across from the airport we also passed the UN headquarters and distribution center in Goma. It was a huge compound; the UN has a big presence with military and humanitarian aid in Goma. A little further north we saw the epicenter of the volcanic lava tub, which erupted out of the earth near the city perimeter and destroyed about 40% of the town in 2001. The lava cleared a path about 50 yards wide from the point of eruption and spread out, flowing all the way to the shores of Lake Kivu.

When we finally arrived at the camp, the shanties laid out over the landscape were noticeable from a distance. As we drove up to the distribution location, the people were already in line waiting for their gifts with some aid workers directing the crowd. Others gathered around to watch what was happening and waiting to see if they might receive something from us. One lady whose name was not on the list, pulled on my shirt saying, “Mazungu” showing me her baby and pointing to cloth she wanted me to give her. Others gave looks of hope they might receive something even thought they were told they would receive nothing this time around.

On the other side, the individuals, whose names were on the list, were approaching us to receive the clothing. Old women were dancing like young women, laughing and hugging us as they received their colorful wraps. The young women who received dresses hid behind our vehicle parked next to a wall and fit into them. They came and looking very beautiful. The men shook our hands in gratitude.

As the clothes were running out, those on the outside surrounding us started becoming restless and increased their continued requests. Kevin had brought a bag of dum-dums with him, so he asked me if I wanted to help him hand out candy; a kind of small consolation to those who didn't receive anything. As he got the back pack with the dum-dums out of the car, the children started following him to see what he might give them. When our hands came out of the bag with candy the hands of the children reached up to take them. Before we started handing them out, I told the kids to take the candy slowly. They all looked at me nodding their heads with their eyes wide open. Any order went out the window when the candy came out. Eventually, the kids pulled down the bag altogether and by the time the kids scattered the bag was empty.

It was time to leave, since there was nothing more to give. The people left with nothing surrounded the car still asking for something. Finally, after our team got into the car, we headed out of the camp back to town.

Many of the refugees in the camp we visited were about to pass back to their homes they fled a few months earlier. With the economic downturn in the west, aid supplies such as food and other essentials are becoming fewer in quantity. Since Nkunda’s recent capture by the offensive of the joint Rwandan and Congolese forces against the rebels, some in the camp wonder if it would be better to take their chances returning home to see if they could start rebuilding their lives again. Most will find their homes destroyed and nothing left to rebuild; the apparent choices are to die in the camps for lack of food or take the risk of returning home with more outbreaks of violence and the hardship of survival. For those who decide to return, the UN is able to give them some tarp for shelter and a sack of seed potatoes to plant in the fields when they get home.

In the camp, there is a thick air of desperation almost as if one were living in the storyline of “The Lord of the Flies” without the island. It is the same feeling of desperation I felt in the other camp I visited with the Watermark team a few months earlier. Even with the clothing, however, there were still many left behind without anything to improve their situation; our contribution felt like a small drop in the bucket of needs.

The more I see the needs in the Great Lakes Region, the more I am confronted with my own powerlessness to overcome oppression of hunger and homelessness. My initial feeling after experiencing the IDP camp is like that of Habakkuk 1:2-3:

"How long, O LORD, must I call for help, but you do not listen? Or cry out to you, "Violence!" but you do not save? Why do you make me look at injustice? Why do you tolerate wrong? Destruction and violence are before me; there is strife, and conflict abounds."

Maybe God is inviting me to look with an eternal perspective on the situation and exhorting me to, “Look at the nations and watch and be utterly amazed" (1:5). As I ponder the things of God, I sit back and respond as Habakkuk did, “I stand in awe of your deeds, O LORD. Renew them in our day, in our time make them known; in wrath remember mercy” (3:2).

I am confronted with the realization: it is God who feeds and cares for his creation with love allowing the evil and righteous to grow together under his providential will. Redemptive history is running its course and the light of the Kingdom of Heaven is penetrating the darkness of our sin-filled world.

I realize as an American I am not in control of my destiny, let alone anyone else’s. It is a relief to rest in God’s grace realizing I can be his servant manifesting his love on earth with out having to solve problems I did not create, nor fix them in my own strength.