V like “Volere” (want)

What language do missionaries “speak”? Theirs is an alphabet of mercy, with letters that breathe life back into words and generate works

Warning: this alphabet follows Italian words, but we urge readers to consider the concept rather than the consonant or vowel with which they begin

“Nataka kufanya vile (I want to do that).”

Actually it would be more correct to say “Ningetaka (I wish)” because we all have wishes, dreams to fulfill.

My African brothers and sisters have many, but being able to achieve them, that is the problem. It is not enough to want it, you also need the conditions for it to become a reality.

Unfortunately, in many nations, there is dictatorship, more or less veiled. Many presidents (it would perhaps be better to call them traditional leaders) try in every way, licit or not, to change the constitution in order to stay in power until they die. Around them, they have a host of interested worshippers who applaud them, knowing that they too can have the crumbs that fall from their table.

As the African proverb says, “those who stand on the plant, throw down the fruits to those below” because “the goat eats where it is tethered.”

So what to do? Back in the days, there was solidarity in the villages. Everyone helped each other to make the village strong, and those who lived there knew they counted on each other. Even rituals, festivals, times of joy and mourning-everything served to cement the union.

Only those who had no desire to work, to cooperate, were sidelined.

Now, however, the virus of self-interest or that of one’s own party has entered, and so those who are weak, those who count for nothing, are left on the sidelines. How many times, going to the villages, to the grassroots communities, when faced with people’s complaints about the situation of poverty, of injustice, we said that we have to get together, work together.

I remember something that happened when I was in the parish of Luvungi, in Congo DRC. We were on the border of Rwanda. There are two tribes there: the Tutsis, cattle herders, and the Hutus, farmers.

It is a small nation, but densely populated. Of course, those who raised cattle needed a large expanse of land to graze their cows, while others needed land to cultivate and eat. There were always problems.

The former then what do they plan to do? They make arrangements with the local authorities in our Zone (the mayor, the chiefs) to get land for their cows. But people in our area also cultivated land for a living.

But those in charge are always right and you cannot go against them. And so slowly, violently, people were being driven out of their fields for the benefit of the cows.

One day, some people from various religions (Catholics, Protestants…) come together to make a Land Committee. They come to the parish to ask for a hall to have their meetings, to decide on the line to take in this tragic situation. Of course we give it to them.

After a few days, the mayor comes and tells me that I am against the welfare of the state (or rather of someone), that this is not good…in short, a threat that may even go as far as expulsion.

I reply very simply that they had asked me for a venue and as we usually do, we make it available. He leaves unconvinced.

And it was the same thing that happened in the church, during the Sunday homilies. There was always some spy ready to report to the secret service what the father was saying, so as to accuse him if it was necessary.

We, of course, knew all this and used indirect phrases to get across what the situation was. There was not much more we could do, because it was the people who had to become the protagonists in changing their nation.

We were there to encourage them and to let them know that they did not feel alone. A slow walk “pole pole ndiyo mwendo (slowly is the way to walk).”

The important thing was not to lose hope.

Source

• Father Oliviero Ferro

Image

• digitally created by spazio + spadoni