DRC – not just the Kivus!

My Monday mornings are always a bit stressful.  It is my job to literally wade out into a crowd of local Congolese women and select 10 of them to be our water haulers – our Water Mamas – for the week. 

Inside the compound, we officially start each day with a morning meeting at 8:00 am.  The crowd outside the gate is already gathering by then.  If you were one of these women, you would be there early to stake out your spot.  Likely, you have a baby strapped to your back and have your two oldest daughters waiting in different parts of the line to increase your chances.  This is the only real opportunity you’ll have to earn any money this week so it is a big deal.  Everyone is talking, there is some pushing and an argument breaks out beside you as someone tries to force her way into the line.  A mixture of excitement, hope and desperation can be felt in the air.

Immediately after the morning meeting, it’s time.  Trailing behind my Assistant Log, I head outside the compound and am greeted by over 300 people like you.  Some try to grab the numbers out of my hand.  Others tug on my sleeves, hoping to attract my attention and increase their chances.  But most just wait patiently.  Hoping that maybe this week I might pick them.  Not the favorite part of my job, that’s for sure.

Monday Morning Selection

Directions are shouted in Kiluba and the women from last week grudgingly leave their spot in the line, hopes of being selected again now gone.  I make a relatively futile attempt to kick out the students and pregnant women and to arrange everyone into a couple of lines.  Then, with a number already picked in my head, I start counting. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5…33, 34, 35!  If you’re picked, you get a piece of paper with a number on it and I continue counting as you run down the center of the two lines, cheering like you just won the lottery!

You’ll immediately get your yellow, 20-liter jug and head to the hand pump to start pumping.  20 cents per jug and you’ll probably haul around 75 throughout the week.  Facilitating everything from hand washing stations to wash water for the operating theater to expat showers.

…all of this so you have the chance to be one of the lucky ladies who can transport water for MSF for that week.  Congratulations!

Looking Deeper

On the surface, the villages look peaceful and I’m greeted by big Jambo’s wherever I go. Children are always waving and yelling “Mazungu! Mazungu!” as we drive by with big smiles on their faces. Poverty is widespread and people are living well below the dollar-a-day poverty line…but fields have been planted and markets are starting up again. New water pumps are in use and schools have been rebuilt. Things are getting better and it all seems so normal.

However, as I start to look a bit deeper, I’m getting a better picture. Here are a few incidents that have shed light on this issue.

…our mental health program is still finding new cases of people who, even after 2 years of peace, are still suffering from the effects of war. These are people who have witnessed or experienced brutality or rape, people who have had family members killed, people who fled because of fighting and people who have watched as their house and all of their possessions go up in flame.

…I met the family of my water and sanitation assistant. They used to have a big brick house and you can still see the old foundation in their yard. They now live in grass huts. They fled the first time in 1999 in the face of advancing rebel groups as part of the bigger international war that eventually overthrew the government. They returned in 2002 only to flee again in 2004 during the regional instability of the Congolese Army vs. Mai-Mai battles. They returned again in 2006 and are starting to rebuild. Bricks were made during the past dry season for a new house and they will start building once the current rainy season is over. For now, they are tending their fields and surviving in their straw huts.

New and Old

…my construction assistant pointed out a few spots in one of the Ministry of Health clinics where he had patched bullet holes.

…I can still see the charred marks on some brick buildings where the thatch roofs were torched. The people have moved back in but the doors and windows are largely boarded over and the cracks have been filled.

Burnt House