There is hardly anything more painful than finding
oneself in the midst of unfamiliar faces after having been separated from loved ones
as a result a nerve-breaking circumstance. Some people could go on an empty
stomach for hours or even days because of the grinding pain caused by
having no immediate relatives, and in the worst cases no familiar face to turn to.
This pain was a common experience Sierra Leonean and Liberian
refugees and displaced persons went through during and after years of internal
armed conflict.
Warranted by this situation, the International Red
Cross Movement stepped up to its international responsibility by facilitating
restoration of family links (RFL) between separated families.
As an RFL caseworker, I completed my notes and proposed
actions on each case planned for the following week on a Thursday afternoon and
set off for Katanga village to deliver Red Cross Messages (RCMs). A five-year-old boy (now 17) left behind by his parents during a brutal invasion
could remember his father’s nick-name and his birth village. The Red Cross
registered and kept track of his movement for six months until he could finally
put together the pieces of a heart-trembling experience 12 years ago.
His father was killed during one of the attacks on the
village. During this attack his elder brother and sister, ages 10 and 12 at that time, were conscripted by one of the fighting forces. They were later reported dead.
The only surviving member of the family was the mother. She lived in a state of
despondency in a one-bedroom mud hut on the outskirts of the village since she
got back from hiding.
Like most villages in that region, it was the
tradition of Katanga to perform sacrifice for the ‘departed’. In observance of
this tradition, the community decided to perform a ceremony for her family
on a Friday.
I got to this village the same day. On arrival, I went
to the chief to observe the usual courtesies. He halted me a few minutes into the
briefing. ‘Stop! Stop!’ he said. ‘This is meant for the ears of the entire
village’, he jumped out of his seat.
This got me nervous and uneasy! It sent shock waves
down my spine. The chief and his men marshaled me to a large gathering a few
yards from his house, where the ceremony was taking place. In a split second we
were surrounded by almost the entire village.
In a few more seconds a woman in her early fifties
emerged from the middle of the crowd. In no time she became the center of
attention. It became obvious at that point she was the reason for my visit. It
was apparent from the tears raining down her cheek that she already knew about
the boy's message.
The chief requested I deliver the message to the
woman publicly, against the normal practice. Everyone present burst into
tears. Tears of joy, I believe.
A few yards away from where I stood, I overheard an old
man say, ‘Red Cross de gi life to die man’ meaning, ‘the Red Cross raises the
dead’. No one imagined this could have happened because everyone believed the boy was dead. Receiving a message from him was like waking the dead from the
grave.
Food was served and prayers offered for the late
father, brother and sister. I collected the reply and took some pictures to deliver to the boy in a refugee camp in Liberia.