Catalyst for Peace (formerly Catalyst Peacebuilding)

We met with Edward Jusu Abu, Program Coordinator for Children Associated with the War (CAW), in Freetown on Friday afternoon. They were the first indigenous NGO in Sierra Leone and the first NGO to work with ex-child combatants, starting in 1993. The title of this blog is a quote from our interview with him.

The truth of this quote has never rung more true than with our interview on Saturday. We went to the home of the war’s first amputee, Tamba Ngoujah, and sat with him and his family. His family is comprised of his beautiful wife, six children and some cousins. I counted 11 in all living in the zinc shack, built right into a steep hillside. This man lost both hands and is lucky to have survived his wounds. He continues to struggle daily not only due to the physical hardship of daily routine, but mainly because he cannot work and cannot provide for his family.

When the Truth and Reconciliation Commission finished their work three years ago, a recommendation was put forth to provide reparations to the amputees. The war has become known for amputations, among other atrocities, as the rebels continuously amputated one or both hands because people had used their hands to vote and put the government they opposed into power. But there has been no restitution. The great majority of amputees are not able to work and have been forced to beg on the streets to find money for their families.

Tamba said that he had not chosen vengeance for what had been done to him because of his religious convictions and because it would serve him and his family no good. But not having chosen vengeance does not mean that he has forgiven the men who chopped off his hands. He explained that he is ready to forgive, but cannot forgive, cannot heal until he is able to forget his situation. This will not happen so long as his life continues its hardship, so long as the government continues to ignore its responsibility to help its victimized citizens.

Unfortunately, “amputee” has become a synonym for “beggar” in the eyes of the community (in Freetown, certainly, perhaps in other areas of the country as well). Tamba and his wife went to a store to buy the zinc slates to build their house. He was immediately shooed out of the store until Tamba was able to explain that he was at the store to buy materials; the owner believed that he had only come into the store to beg for money. Through it all, Tamba retains an incredible sense of dignity, and he does not beg. He stands on the street corner and hopes that someone will drop “small-small” (small change) into his pocket as he greets each person that passes him with a “good morning” or “good afternoon”.

We go see (see you later in Krio),

Claire