Something that touched my heart

In the South-Western part of the country there is a place popular to tourists. "Lake Bunyonyi" or Bird Lake is near Kabale about 3 hours from Bwindi National Park. It is a peaceful and breathtaking place. I visited there a little while back and happened upon a young girl named Suzan and her "brothers" Birungi and Christopher. They were very excited by me and talked up a storm. Suzan was covered in dirt and I asked her what she ahd been doing. She said she was busy digging up sweet potatoes to feed the family. They had a small plot of land off which they susbsitance harvested. However, a shortage of money ment that all they ate every day was sweet potatoe. They asked me where I was from and what I was doing there. They were a very curious bunch, as could be expected I suppose, and spoke amazingly good English. I explained I was here as part of my schooling. They lit up! They very politly asked me if they might take me to their school. Of course I was thrilled. As we were walking they told me so much about their school, how much they loved learning and the teachers and the dreams they had of getting a strong education. After visiting the school they confessed that this term had just started but they did not have school fees to attend. Then the story began to unfold. They were all orphans. Their parents had both died from what I am sure is AIDS. They had been living with their "Aunt" and her husband. But her husband had died just 2 months earlier from Malaria. Now there is no money at all. He had been the only one working. I asked if I might visit their Aunt. I was thinking of perhaps offering to buy some seeds (a larger variety such as Beans and Sorghum) and was curious just how much school fees were in this rural area. They were so excited for me to come visit their house, they practically ran the whole way. When I got there I saw the most amazing thing. 12 children were all busy about the place, cleaning, making a fire, peeling potatoes. One looked no more than 12 (I found out after she was 14 and named Katra) and she was carrying a small baby on her back. Everyone stopped and greated me warmly. From inside the house, an older women slowly made her way out to meet me. This was Pasha, the "Aunt". Pasha is now 56 years old. None of these children are hers. In fact, none of them are even related to her. But Pasha has taken them all in, a total of 17 children ranging from 7months-19years, to care for them when their parent/s have passed away and they have no other family to care for them. In the case of 4 siblings (Sam, Tony, Fank and Emily) family was willing to take one or two but to keep them from being seperated, Pasha had just kept them all.
They had nothing to offer, but offered me warm milk. They danced and sang and were so excited to share their home with me. I knew they hoped I would give them something. And I did. Together we went to buy the see that I had thought to buy and they showed me the kinds that were good for this land. They asked me to pray with them to God and blessed me for my generosity. It cost me $2.00. I could not believe the kindness, the joy, the strength that each one of them possessed. I could not get over Pasha, and the heart she had to care for all these children when she could hardly care for herself.
I had to go. And I promised to keep in touch (which I have and will continue to do). But as I left, I thought, is it not the way that the ones with the least, are the first to give all they have to help a neighbour.
That family has touched my heart in such a way I will forever remember them and I have dedicated myself to raising the funds to sponsor their education as much as I can. Each one requires 10$ per term. That is all.
I will be setting up an online group for this cause and will keep you informed as progress is made.
To Pasha, Burungi, Suzan, Banet, Ketra, Kevin, Christopher, Bridget, Precious, Desire, Issac, Shillah, Norman, Charity, Sam, Tony, Fank and Emilly. Thank you.

Honouring those who risk their lives for others

"Recognition of the inherent dignity and of the equal and inalienable rights of all members of the human family is the foundation of freedom, justice and peace in the world." Universal Declaration of Human Rights

On June 2, 2010 the body of Mr. Floribert Chebeya Bahizire was found in his abandoned car on the outskirts of Kinshasa, DR Congo. His last known whereabouts while alive was at the Office of then Chief of Police Mr. John Numbi who had called for a meeting with Mr. Chebeya on June 1st.

Although Mr. Numbi was suspended following a Military Inquiry, he was never formally charged. In fact, he testified as a 'witness' during the trial at which time he denied any such meeting had even taken place. Impunity reigns for those in high-levels of power.

Instead, lower ranking officers, although likely responsible on some level be-it on the commands of another, have been charged and convicted.

Mr. Chebeya was the Executive Director of Voix des Sans Voix (Voice for the Voiceless) and an honourable member and founder of the Movement for Democracy. He was a prominent opposition force against the terror of the Mobutu regime and continued his work until his death, nearly 3 decades of dedication to defending the rights of many.

The DRC could be regarded in some ways as 'hell on earth'. The illegitimate dictatorships that have ruined the country have reeked havoc on the population virtually since independence. Figures of as many as 6.5 million people have been murdered and millions more displaced in the past few decades alone in the DRC. Entire generations have grown up knowing nothing but the chaos and distruction of civil war.

Mr. Chebeya stood strong against the perpetrators of vial injustice. Mr. Chebeya lost his life for the cause.

Others around the world continue to fight to protect and defend fundamental human rights.

I urge you to join the struggle.

In the words of Mr. Gabriel Mugaruka, Human Rights Defender from the Congo
"We believe that one day Human Rights Defenders will work freely in DRC and around the globe"

Until then, be safe, be prepared, but never give up. Be the voice to the voiceless.

In honour of Floribert Chebeya Bahizire 1963-2010