“As if it were today” | Tales from Muhanga 6
From the diary of Father Giovanni Piumatti during his time in Muhanga (North Kivu). Reflections still relevant today
Africa teaching us about justice, which is equity and sharing
There are the big facts that pass in TV and newspaper coverage. Syria, chemical weapons, Costa Concordia, shooting at Marine headquarters, Obama, Olympics in Japan, the ubiquitous ball; all on the same plane.
And there is life flowing by, slow and hidden, sometimes stronger, overwhelming us or leaving us clinging to some makeshift sapling, life that God offers equal for all…
Concetta has returned: to recompose our little society-community. Someone is preparing for the coming months. Here, many young men and men go to Musigha where a hill is fleshed out, in search of gold; they come from all over, they are over 15 thousand.
They leave fields aside, try their luck . They are hired by Butembo traders, by those who have a rifle and some power–by anyone who has a little money and can feed them for four to five months, then they will share the hoard, if it can be found.
Muhanga is small; but as you know it is part of the big picture that goes under different names: Kivu, great lakes, coltan. Natural resources, central location in Africa, war that has been going on for twenty long years.
What is so painful is to see all these young families living in their own homes, almost like those who land in Lampedusa. With great dignity and so much suffering.
As I write this, Nostal, a friendly 6-year-old, enters the house, followed by Katembo and Samì, who are younger. I take a cookie that Concetta baked yesterday and give it to Nostal; just one intentionally, just so to see what happens. Nothing special: Nostal doesn’t make a peep, breaks it and gives it to Katembo, sees that maybe it’s too little and breaks him another piece, then another piece he gives to Samì.
So I get up and take two more cookies, one to Katembo and one to Samì. Samì takes and goes outside (I don’t see what he is up to there), Katembo stands here and nibbles on his cookie. Nostal looks joyfully at Katembo who has received the whole cookie, finishes her little crumb that she had left, laughs with those two sly eyes (and she really is!)… and is overjoyed like that.
She is overjoyed like that, with a division of the pieces that is surely illogical and irrational not mathematical,
but it is Nostal justice, beautiful.
On TV we often talk about American justice…French justice…Italian justice; and here I have before me African justice: what a mystery!
In the gospel I read about a master who at the end of the day paid the workers who came to work at different hours.
Another justice: very strange, even God’s. Now I am left alone with Nostal; he makes me a confidence: – I want to come to you – where? – To you, to Italy – to do what? – To see your mom.
You see, he also wants to come to Italy. But someone is afraid of it.
(Father Piumatti, Sept. 18, 2013
(Father Piumatti, September 18, 2013)
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Source and image
G. Piumatti, Muhanga. Parole e storie d’Africa, p. 280