*Photograph taken by Bryan Juliano
There’s
just something about Africa that scares me. I’ve been fortunate enough to
literally go to the other side of the world in Okinawa, Japan. Let me tell you
that when we were not in Tokyo, the world was foreign to say the least. Our
Western culture shares its similarities and differences with the Far East and I
enjoyed my visit with family stationed there; I had the chance to see a little more
than the average tourist! That was a trip in my past. One that I have in my
future is to serve in some impoverished, third-world country in South America.
I am drawn to my Catholic brothers and sisters that predominantly populate some
of the nations below the equator.
 |
| Geoffrey Ochem* |
But
there remains this strong fear and maybe some awe for Africa. Whatever limited
knowledge I can conjure up to rattle off for a class derived from an earlier class that briefly
touched on Africa. Media has its scopes on Egypt and Libya, Yemen at times, and
whatever interactions northern countries have with Europe. But I feel like in
the instances of Egypt and Libya, their appearances in our limited news
coverage only revolve around the “revolution of the Middle East” and its spread
to the northern countries of Africa. (Even though Libya’s violence stems from a
different root-bear with me!) Yemen; I heard about it in an Outside article which christened it the
most dangerous tourist destination for Americans. And since my interest with European
current events is spread thin from Greece to France with economic hardships, I
occasionally hear about immigration problems from North Africa.
I also would
like to add that my fear of Africa probably derives from yes, my ignorance
above, as well as my European history classes and reading The Ear, the Eye, and the Arm
by Nancy Farmer. If I can sum up European imperialism in the 19th
and 20th centuries: they done screwed the African nations over big time.
Maybe I feel some sort of regret? Not that I had any direct affiliation 150
years ago, but I suppose that is a factor. It could also be the disservice of
certain history courses that revolved around Europe, the Americas, and Asia.
(So that would be my fault; I chose the classes.) I read The Ear, the Eye, and the Arm in middle school. In essence, the
plot revolved around a futuristic Zimbabwe. Within this Brave New World setting existed a tribe. And now that I have
mentioned Brave New World, the same
sort of abstraction-from-society theme lies in Huxley’s pages as well (and
probably predates Farmer.) Yet, The Ear,
the Eye, and the Arm painted a picture in my late childhood. There was a
heavy contrast between polar opposites in the financial spectrum. And now, any
media coverage on Africa fits this preceding mental image of Africa I have had
ever since I was thirteen.
I still
have this fear; maybe even more so after attending Front Line’s Invisible Children presentation. After
the last seminar I attended on child violence in
Philadelphia, it has begun to grind my gears. Though I have not taken some
heroic proactive stance on the issue, I was drawn to tonight’s topic, now
shifted to scary Africa. As I mentioned above, through the eyes of slanted
media (in addition to my lacking motivation to look for a fuller variety of
sources,) I have recently seen Africa in struggle and turmoil. By attending
tonight, I felt like I was witnessing a car crash; I just could not look away.
Yes, I was toying with my fear and facing it by showing up to a proactive
meeting. But I also thought it was an opportunity to let a darker human form of
fascination. Why would I be drawn to this horrendous reality of children enslaved
to murder under warlords? And to clarify, when I say drawn, I mean like a moth
to the light-not to be confused with some sort of sadistic-masochist attraction.
Let me
try to explain myself. Once I heard in Tony,
a documentary on an individual’s life in northern Uganda, the term night commuters, I felt the hair on the
back of my neck stand up. Because of the apparent civil war in Uganda between
the Lord’s Resistance Army and Ugandan government that has been waged for the
past two decades, children that are caught in the crossfire of inhumane
violence (yes, there is a difference between humane and inhumane violence-I
found that out tonight,) go into cities or larger populations to sleep. They go
from their homes to avoid violence and enslavement every night.
As any
21st century documentary might have, Tony depicted the truest of colors its namesake’s home. I can only
say thank you to Front Line for not drawing out the horror inflicted by Joseph
Convey’s LRA. What little coverage they used was enough. For me it was. But it
obviously was not for Invisible Children.
The documentary-style of Tony allowed
for one of its producers and founders of Invisible
Children, Laren Poole, to speak directly to the audience. In this address,
he said something along the lines of: “Now you’ll hear from someone Uganda…” I
did not actually think he meant it.
Geoffrey
Ochem is twenty-four. His village was raided by the LRA when he was sixteen. He
was pressed into service when he and two of his friends, Simon and Peter,
witnessed the murder of a child soldier who was used as an example. Two months
later, Geoffrey escaped from being rope-bound to ten other captive-soldiers in
a firefight with Ugandan government forces. Tonight, six years later, he still
does not know where Simon and Peter are. By the way, Geoffrey’s personality was
shy in certain ways as well as firm. His English was choppy at times, but when
he knew what he wanted to say, his point came across clearly; Uganda, his home,
is ravished by irrepressible sectarian violence. What hit me hard was that he
was seemingly more nervous about being in front of college students than
emotional over his recollection of his past. His sincere laughs ended his
answers to our questions adding a bit of light-heartedness to the grim reality
put before us. That was most notable in my book; how he stood there, completely
opening his heart to retell a few atrocities.
So,
where’s the hope? Does this mean my fear of Africa is justified or increased? I’d
say so. But wait, that was Invisible
Children’s goal, wasn’t it? Maybe not to induce fear, but somewhere near it.
Geoffrey finished courses at his university and is graduating with a B.A. in
teaching. He plans on teaching secondary history and economics. For one, his
story is the epitome of Invisible
Children’s objective: promote education. Another underlying theme
throughout Tony that was reiterated
indirectly by Geoffrey’s own words is the harm American arrogance can cause. In
Tony, Jolly Okot, the initial Ugandan
contact for the Laren Poole and founders, stressed the incrimination caused by
free stuff from America. Geoffrey, when asked by the audience what his initial
impression of the States was, answered, “I did not plan on coming to the U.S.”
What I took away from both points was American
resources and America itself is not this readily-made solution that is capable
of being specifically cut for Uganda’s violence. Even when a bill proposed by Invisible Children’s Laren Poole reached
and passed in Congress last year to capture/stop Joseph Convey, the fact that
his violence is spreading past Uganda points to the limitation to America’s
readiness to throw Uganda a bone after bureaucracy had its say.
As a final point of reflection, I
think my fear increased. The reality of the violence in Uganda was brought to
my doorstep. A member of Invisible
Children, Nate, was murdered in the terrorist attack in Kampala during last
year’s World Cup. Some proactive groups have videos that play off emotions to
gain financial and vocal support. But I have never come away from a
presentation more fearful than I had initially walked in with; thanks Invisible Children.
