urundi, a small country of Central Africa, gained its independence in 1962. Since then, it has lived through divisions and ethnic, political and economic conflicts which through the years have sown death, hatred, poverty and misery. In the midst of all these sad realities, however, in my country we never lost some fundamental human values, such as the gift of life, of hospitality, and others.
I am a religious and am part of this history. A history which for me – as for so many others, - was one of suffering, to the point that it opened in my heart a wound that could only be healed in the mercy of God. It was an experience which penetrated all the folds of my soul and led me through a long time of anxieties and doubts.
Today I can say that I got out of that “dark night,” thanks to a long personal journey of peace and reconciliation. Because if there’s life, forgiveness and love, if we overcome discouragement and despair, no search ends empty-handed. Because it’s all part of the search for God.
An Absurd War
It was on August 22nd, 1993, when I made my first religious profession, full of enthusiasm to follow the Lord wherever. He would want me, convinced that I was setting out on a journey to happiness. The tragic drama began only two months later when war exploded. An absurd war, nameless, with terrible and cruel massacres; many were killed because of their political stands, ethnic origins or just for staying neutral.
In 1993 a long and arduous process toward a popularly elected government culminated in the election of a president who bore the hopes of the majority of the population. But, on October 21st, President Melchior Ndadaye was assassinated, together with other officials, and this immediately stirred up ethnic violence. Hundreds of thousands of people left to seek refuge in Tanzania, as well as in Zaire (now, Democratic Republic of Congo) and Rwanda. A civil war erupted which goes on to this day.
Countless innocent people were killed, villages and city quarters were totally burned down. Bodies were abandoned in the streets, hidden in the woods, or thrown into the rivers. It was a horror! The categories “displaced” or “regrouped persons” define the social condition of the majority of those who are left: many are the widows, the orphans, the street children, the unemployed. Meanwhile, armed gangs keep on committing acts of terror.
No one, anywhere, can feel safe. This is a country where the innocent pay the price for the acts of the guilt.
Why this burden and these victims of violence? The reasons are many. And I am not capable of listing them with accuracy. I know that what we, especially we Christians, must first take into account are those who are suffering, and do as the Good Samaritan would.
We, Sisters, helpless in the face of so many horrors, at first, took refuge in a religious house; later, however, as the tragedy continued to develop without pity, we chose to return to our family homes to hope for the end of the tragedy together with our people. Some of us, however, had no success in locating our families. I did after I received a telephone call informing me of the death of my mother and of an 18-year old cousin. I was in shock. Why? These deaths didn’t make any sense… My mother, who had always taught me to love everyone, had become a victim of human hatred.
From then on, I began to hate everybody and everything, deeply; I lost the sense of God, of prayer, of community, and I questioned my vocation, convinced that was a sign for me, to go back home to be with my father who was now alone, but most of all to seek justice, somehow.
Wanting vengeance and refusing to forgive were like two live coals burning within me; I was now living a double life, serene outside, but deep in turmoil inside.
Forgiveness and Peace
After some time, I was finally able to find my family. All my brothers were angry with my father. It was because of him, they said, that our mother had died: while all the others ran away, he, not feeling well, stayed behind, and my mother chose to stay with him. I felt like my brothers, and I, too, closed my heart to my father.
My moments of prayer were a struggle. One day I decided to talk to my confessor about it. He asked: “Is it you who does the forgiving or the Lord in you?” This simple question turned my life around. A new strength surged within me with the desire to offer forgiveness and the need to be forgiven. It was a freeing moment, very strongly so!
Suddenly, the fear to bare myself disappeared, and I resolved to face up to my father. He told me how my mother died. “When I heard them come, - he said – your mother recognized her nephew among them and asked if he too had come to kill her. ‘I who have given you milk with my own hands,’ she said (meaning she had raised him). Then – my father continued – your mother said she had one wish before dying: she wanted to put on her white dress! Next, I only heard the cry of her niece. I ran up a tree to hide as they entered the house to steal and destroy. After a long silence I came down and found them both, dead on the floor. And I ran… I am sure your mother died in peace, asking only to put on her nice dress before presenting herself before the Lord…
And I, how can I not forgive knowing that my mother died so in peace?”
With much resistance I stepped into the path of reconciliation, especially with the relatives who had provoked that death. When I first met them to declare my forgiveness, it was very hard, because I felt disgust for them. But it was not easy for them, either, because they expected me to accuse or condemn them. Instead, it was very beautiful… a moment of profound emotion!
And so it was that in forgiving I found myself again, I found God and my brothers again, and, I found new peace, a peace which is not only absence of war, of anger or of the urge for revenge, but a sense of serenity and trust in God and in God’s justice.
Yes, God has God’s own times and ways… After a period of suffering and, even, of despair, I rediscovered the meaning of my life, of my vocation and of community, besides the way of pardon and reconciliation. This is the necessary way to build up peace, that peace which is born in the heart of the one who loves and seeks, every day, to walk toward the truth.
With pardon and reconciliation we can hope to build a world which is free, free of violence and hatred, with a peace which is born in the heart of God.
(From Xaverian Mission Newsletter)