This guest post was written by Enough Project staffer Ledio Cakaj.  Read more posts about Sudan at Enough’s blog, Enough Said.

“Tell them about our suffering here,” said the Bishop of Yambio of the Sudanese Episcopal Church. “The LRA is killing, raping and looting in our communities and the world does not know about it,” he added.

Bishop Peter’s words came at the end of a meeting I had with Episcopalian pastors from various Western Equatorian districts in South Sudan. Packed in the All Saints Church in Yambio, the capital of Western Equatoria State, or WES, I heard many hours-worth of testimony from people who had been victims of the Lord’s Resistance Army, or LRA, most of them in the past two months.

The village of Yubu, for instance, which is 4 km away from Yambio, was attacked at the end of September. Many people were abducted, some were released but at least six were killed. The remnants of their bodies were collected only a few days before my visit. These events have become common in WES. A report by the U.N. coordination agency estimated 202 LRA related deaths and 131 abductions in September alone.

LRA attacks on the civilian population have been particularly brutal and frequent in and around Ezo, a town close to Sudan’s border with Congo, where the LRA attackers are coming from. As a result, many people have been internally displaced, moving to areas as far as Yambio – a 7 to 10 day trek on foot – trying to escape the LRA.

The displaced people I spoke to in Yambio described how the LRA had destroyed most of their villages around Ezo in search of food. Stories of killings, rape, and looting are again, all too common. There are at least 1,500 displaced people around Yambio living in squalid conditions without much help. An estimated 25,000 people in WES are displaced and most are thought to have fled LRA attacks.

The number of refugees from Congo and Central African Republic are also on the rise. The refugee camp of Makpandu, 45 km northeast of Yambio town, currently houses over 2,500 refugees, and at least 50 people arrive each week, according to the U.N. refugee agency. At least 3,000 refugees are stuck in Ezo town where food distribution is rare due to LRA attacks, but relocation of these refugees to the Makpandu site is on hold until the security situation improves.

In the meantime, LRA attacks in Western Equatoria continue. On October 7, the LRA attacked the village of Nimba near Yambio town. Two women were mutilated and killed.

The attacks have prompted more displacement, misery, and hunger. Food supplies for the local population and the displaced are dwindling because of the looting and destruction. On Wednesday, Governor Jemma Nunu Kumba of Western Equatoria appealed on Radio Miraya FM for swift humanitarian aid to the people of WES. The governor’s plea echoed the words of the director of the Sudanese Reconstruction and Rehabilitation Committee in our meeting: “We had never had people dying of starvation in Western Equatoria until the LRA came.”

Posted By: Michael Graham | October 26, 2009 | Comments (0)

Rebecca Feeley is a research consultant based in Goma, DR Congo. She has lived in the Great Lakes region for nearly four years, previously working for African Rights, the Clinton Foundation, Humanitarian Policy and Conflict Research International, and the Enough Project.

With a hardened face and chiseled features, Mathias looked older than his age of 23.  Born to a farming family in Muramvya—a town on the route between Bujumbura and Gitega—Mathias grew up extremely poor.  This hardship limited his ability to attend school and so Mathias devised another way to work his way up and out: he joined the National Liberation Forces, or FNL, in 2005 in the hopes that someday members of the rebel forces would be integrated into the Burundian army where, he explained, he wanted to be an officer. 

But his plan didn’t completely deliver.  While he was given the chance to integrate into Burundian army, he was only offered the rank of corporal. He refused and chose instead to demobilize.  He had been a captain in the FNL, he explained to me.  I asked him if he was disappointed.  He hunched his shoulders and unclasped his hands as if to say, “obviously.”

Having previously worked in eastern DR Congo—a place where armed groups proliferate by the day and there seem to be more officers than foot soldiers—I knew Mathias’ attempt at trading up through integration was not unusual.  He explained his story to me with a mix of indifference and exhaustion , and I assumed he was too depleted or too apathetic about the future to have thought of another plan.  I was wrong.  He told me that he wanted to go to school and eventually own and run a small business. “But not in Burundi,” he added. “There are no jobs here. I want to go to school in Tanzania where I could get a job after finishing my studies.” I asked him what kind of small business he wanted to own. He didn’t know, adding only “not in Burundi.”

Posted By: Michael Graham | October 21, 2009 | Comments (0)

During the group interview, Joseph was quiet and appeared introverted. But when I asked the group of former combatants if there was anyone who would like to talk to me individually, Joseph was the first to raise his hand.

He seemed timid but when he laughed his smile was large and easy. He sat with his hands between his legs, and looked off into the distance while he told me the facts: He was 26 years old and had joined the FNL in 1993 when he was just 10 years old.  After his parents had been killed in Bujumbura in 1993, Joseph and his brother were cared for by nuns. While his brother wanted to stay with the nuns, Joseph had other ideas: to avenge the death of his parents by joining the FNL. “Wow,” I said, “so you have been with the FNL for 16 years?” He was slow to respond, sighing “I left the FNL a year after joining to study mechanics under a friend. But then my friend was killed, so I went back to the FNL.”

Joseph didn’t give many details about his life as a combatant except for when he explained—so softly I could barely hear—that he still has nightmares about the time when he was forced to kill his best friend who had raped a woman.  Not raping is one of the many FNL rules that are strictly enforced by officers of the rebel force.  Joseph was chosen to administer the ultimate punishment by shooting his friend. His gaze focused on the ground.

I asked him what he wanted to do in the future.  He gave a small grin and started to describe the ‘video salon’ he wanted to open in his village. Joseph imagined his neighbors coming to his place to watch movies.  From the glimmer in his eye, I could tell he had been dreaming of it for quite some time.  All he needed now was a piece of land and a TV.

Posted By: Michael Graham | October 13, 2009 | Comments (0)

Rebecca Feeley is a research consultant based in Goma, DR Congo. She has lived in the Great Lakes region for nearly four years, previously working for African Rights, the Clinton Foundation, Humanitarian Policy and Conflict Research International, and the Enough Project.

This post is the third in a series about Burundi.  Visit us again in the coming weeks for more posts from Rebecca’s trip.

“Madame, they are very dangerous. They can be extremely violent, especially if they don’t like what you say,” warned Romain Ndagabwa without looking up from the papers swallowing his desk.  Ndagabwa, director of the demobilization center in Burundi’s second largest city, Gitega, was referring to the former combatants of the National Liberation Forces, or FNL, which were cycling through the center as part of the process of disarmament, demobilization, and reintegration, or DDR.  Ndagabwa wanted to participate in my discussions with the combatants, but was too busy. I had a feeling he was trying to scare me away from doing so altogether. “I’m sure I’ll be fine,” I assured him. “I’ve interviewed former combatants before. Plus, I won’t be talking that much. Hopefully they’ll do all of that.” Mr. Ndagabwa didn’t press further. He shook my hand and agreed to gather a few of the ex-combatants for me to interview. Then he looked at his watch and ran out the door.

The pro-Hutu FNL was the last rebel group operating in Burundi until, in April of this year, the government of Burundi agreed to recognize the FNL as a legitimate political party. The FNL, in turn, agreed to integrate some combatants into the security services and demobilize others.  For those being demobilized, the center in Gitega was the last stop before being released back into their communities. I was at the center to talk to the former rebels about their pasts and was also curious about their expectations for re-integration into civilian life.

That day the center housed roughly 700 ex-combatants who would stay there only a week.  It seemed nothing more than a holding pen where most just wandered aimlessly or floated between the administrative block and the sleeping quarters. A few stepped outside the compound to buy lollipops or cigarettes. Many of them were eager to talk to me when I sat down with a group of 40 or so combatants.

Explaining the purpose of my research to them and my interest in repatriation had a rough start. Most of them wondered why I was there if I wasn’t going to donate money, while others hinted at fears of being exploited without compensation. Once one combatant mentioned his need for more funds, about 20 others raised their hands to explain how they, too, didn’t have any money to survive after they left the demobilization center.  “We hear about the World Bank and the UN and all the millions they receive, but we see none of it.” “That’s not totally true, is it? Don’t you get multiple installments of money after you leave here?” I asked. “Yes, but it’s not enough,” they said in unison.

I shared my thoughts about how I believed re-integration to be the most neglected component of the process. “We westerners tend to get very excited when we hear about peace accords and armed groups agreeing to DDR, but the first two D’s tend to capture our attention and efforts more than re-integration.” I got a few smiles. I went on to explain that without strong re-integration efforts that include access to education and job skills training, former combatants can be tempted to rejoin armed groups on the promise of surviving by any means necessary. I was preaching to the choir. “We don’t want to go back and fight again, but we’ll do so if we have no other option, no other way to survive,” said one combatant as many nodded.  A few offered that they wanted to go back to school, while others wanted to start a small business or just cultivate land.

In a post-conflict environment, if peace has any hope of surviving, the employment or active engagement of ex-combatants in the civilian community must yield greater returns than an armed group.  It is not easy to advocate for the needs of ex-combatants in Burundi and elsewhere when there are hundreds of millions of innocent civilians who have been affected by armed conflict and who continue to suffer as well. The civilians are, rightfully, the priority of international assistance and aid. However, if our aim is to prevent the re-escalation of conflict, we must also try to ensure that those who once carried arms can become productive members of society.

As I was leaving the center, one of them grabbed the notebook from my hand. Then he held out his palm waiting for my pen. I gave it to him, curious to see what he would do. “I’m going to give you my name and my email address, so you can write me and tell me when there will be more money for us.” I told him I didn’t think I could tell him about the money. “Ok then, just write me and tell me when your post is up. So we know when more people know about us.” I smiled and said yes.  This, at least, was a promise I could keep.

Posted By: Michael Graham | October 02, 2009 | Comments (0)

Candice Knezevic, the RAISE Hope for Congo campaign manager, recently traveled through eastern Democratic Republic of the Congo.

On our first day in Goma, we met with Justine Masika Bihamba, who founded Synergie de Femmes pour les Victimes de Violences Sexuelles. Synergie advocates for women’s rights and an end to impunity, works to sensitize armed groups and local populations about the consequences of sexual violence, and coordinates a network of women’s activists throughout North Kivu who act as a first line of defense for women in rural villages who have been raped.

I first met Justine over a year ago on my first visit to Goma. When I see Justine, she tells me things have only gotten worse since I was last here. She says that in the towns of Masisi and Rutshuru, the CNDP, a Rwanda-supported rebel group formerly led by Laurent Nkunda that has recently been integrated into the Congolese army, are more in control than ever before.  They are specifically targeting Synergie’s activists with violence, rape and even death, and as a consequence, many have had to flee.

Click here to read the rest of the post on the Enough Said blog.

Posted By: Michael Graham | September 16, 2009 | Comments (0)