(refugee)
En RDC
Suivent ici maintenant des textes, témoignages etc. arrivés pour
figurer dans le site et concernant le RDC.
(que ce soit en néerlandais, français, anglais ...)
Les données plus anciennes (à partir
de la présence spiritaine au Congo) se trouvent dans le site KONGOLO.
Nous lui souhaitons un apostolat très fructueux.
Photos: 1) lors de la cérémonie;
2)
réjouissances populaires par après.
Grâce au P.Loumaye nous disposons aux
Archives de Gentinnes de plus de 200 photos de la cérémonie et des réjouissances
qui suivirent. Le Père possède aussi un diaporama (sonorisé) d'une quarantaine
de ces photos. Son émail (août 2007):
alexis.loumaye@skynet.be .
Mon premier objectif, après mon ordination épiscopale
(9 juin 2007; voir site eurospiritains, nouvelles spiritaines), sera
d'entreprendre la visite pastorale de toutes les paroisses. Je tiens à
rencontrer les agents pastoraux: prêtres, responsables laïcs, religieuses,
catéchistes et tous les responsables des mouvements d'action catholique. Ce sont
eux tous qui me permettront de connaître ce diocèse et les différents défis
pastoraux qui attendent notre église.
C'est avec tous ces agents pastoraux que nous essaierons de définir les
priorités qui orienteront notre travail pastoral.
"Ut fructum afferatis"
("que vous portiez du fruit", parole tirée de
Jn 15,16) est la devise épiscopale que j'ai choisie pour
guider ma mission pour un mieux-vivre ensemble de tous.
En 2009, notre diocèse célébrera le centenaire du début de
son évangélisation. Nous devons en faire un événement capable de dynamiser la
vie de notre église.
Mgr Oscar Ngoy
Les étudiants en formation sont nombreux : 5 nouveaux au premier cycle (philosophie) et 6 au noviciat ; 7 jeunes finissent leur année de noviciat et prononcent leurs premiers vœux pour une période de 3 ans. Quatre étudiants, qui arrivent à la fin de la formation, vont être ordonnés diacres et 5 autres commencent un stage d’insertion pastorale, élément essentiel au milieu du parcours de formation.
Un petit groupe plein de vie et d’espérance, qui a souvent pu compter sur la solidarité de nos lecteurs, et avec qui nous avons des liens profonds. Nous partageons leur espérance et leurs projets. Et nous nous retrouvons bien dans les options qu’ils expriment : « Nous sommes appelés à construire et à bâtir la nation. Dans un pays qui vit un moment important de son histoire, notre Eglise est invitée à avoir une parole prophétique. La marche a été longue, les souffrances et les blessures sont énormes ».
Février 2005. SIDA
Quand, il y a des années, à l'occasion des massacres dans l'est du pays, je disais que
vraiment ces gens n'avaient pas besoin d'émeutes et de rébellions pour que leur peuple
disparaisse, que le SIDA s'en chargerait (dit d'une façon crue mais réaliste déjà en
ce moment-là), on me traîtait de fou. Quelques années plus tard un médecin
responsable d'un hôpital me confiait que déjà 30 % de la population était
séro-positif. Maintenant on vient de recevoir une lettre de Lubumbashi, d'un étudiant en
médecine, qui nous dit ce qui suit:
Le SIDA touche actuellement 50% de la population, soit 30 millions d'habitants.
Deux appareils de laboratoire permettent un certain dépistage sur la ville. Et une firme
indienne de médicaments a fait passer le prix des antirétroviraux de 1500 à 57 $ US par
mois. Même à ce prix, qui peut se payer ces médicaments? Nous conseillons à la
population de créer des mutuelles à petite échelle (une communauté chrétienne, une
avenue, une école, une entreprise)...
( Note: des données arrivées plus tard font dire que les
malades du sida (pas les séro-positifs) ne seraient que 5 à 6 %. )
D'une lettre aux lecteurs de 'Joyeux dans l'Espérance': NOUS
VOUS ADRESSONS UN GRAND MERCI.
Les fidèles du site KONGOLO (Mémorial Gentinnes) savent qu'on avait sollicité leur aide
pour loger des déplacés/réfugiés à Lubumbashi. Cette aide a donné à 63 familles la
joie d'habiter leurs maisons. Voici un extrait d'une lettre de remerciement:
Depuis 1998, nous arrivions par vagues à Lubumbashi. Nous avons été regroupés
dans des sites où nous étions entassés dans des chambres étroites avec toute la
famille. Nos familles étaient exposées à de multiples maladies qui ont emporté pas mal
d'entre nous. Le service des réfugiés (JRS), avec le Père Noël, nous a accueillis,
écoutés et soignés. Grâce à eux nous avons pu construire.
Cette année, nous passerons Noël dans nos maisons. Désormais, et grâce à vous, nous
vivons non comme des êtres humiliés, mais comme des êtres intègres et responsables.
Nous avons même un étang et des poissons, et dans le quartier, nos deux responsables ont
fait creuser un puits, avec vos dons.
Document des évêques du Congo (5 février 2005): le
Congo nous appartient.
2005 est une année électorale décisive pour l'avenir du peuple congolais. Les
élections marqueron la conclusion du long processus de transition qui a commencé avec
les accords de paix de 2000 et de 2003. Cette transition, qui devrait être la dernière,
est la voie privilégiée pour instaurer un Etat de droit et pour assurer une stabilité
politique et une prospérité durable dans notre pays...
La situation sociale et politique du pays présente des signes d'espoir,
à savoir:
une forte prise de conscience de l'appartenance à une seule nation;
une opinion publique gagnée à la cause des élections et de la démocratie;
le recours à la médiation en cas de conflit;
le retour du patriotisme, et le refus dee la guerre de la part de la population.
Mais il y a aussi des signes inquiétants dans le domaine social:
des partis sans idéologie et sans un projet de société cohérent et convaincant;
des hommes politiques qui ne semblent pas préoccupés des intérêts supérieurs de la
nation;
le désintéressement de l'Etat dans le domaine de la santé et de l'instruction;
l'explosion du triste phénomène des enfants de la rue;
au plan culturel et religieux: négation de nos valeurs culturelles traditionnelles, et
mépris de la vie humaine; perte du sens du sacré.
Notre pays est en danger. Chaque attitude irresponsable
et de négligence est inadmissible. Nous rappelons la responsabilité de tous: Parlement,
Gouvernement, Communauté Internationale, partis politiques, la population, les agents
pastoraux... Ces responsabilités qui appartiennent à tous les Congolais et à tous les
acteurs de la transition, nous les rappelons tout particulièrement à nos fidèles.
Que vos discours et vos actes, ainsi que la vie de nos communautés chrétiennes,
éclairent la société et combattent la corruption de notre pays.
Mai 2005
8 mai
Une série de photos vient d'arriver de MANONO, prises en janvier 2005.
La série montre les suites des pillages et des destructions (même par bombardement) mais
aussi que la vie reprend un peu (les écoles, les champs....). A la même occasion
une série de photos de KONGOLO fut ajoutée (travaux aux champs). Les deux séries sont
accessibles sur le site spiritain européen (première partie de la photothèque, c.à.d.
la partie accessible sans mot de passe).
Les habitués du Mémorial Kongolo à Gentinnes le savent déjà: le samedi 14 mai, jour avant la Pentecôte, nos amis se réuniront cette année aussi au Mémorial pour une journée entière. Tout comme l'annnée passée, et dorénavant chaque année, le groupe des anciens de Kongolo se joindra à eux. Et à cette occasion on pourra se procurer sur place deux plaquettes intéressantes pour ceux et celles qui connaissent ou désirent découvrir la région de Kongolo (en R.D.C.): celle de Mr Gérard Jacques, une nouveauté, sur "Trois siècles d'histoire de Kongolo" et celle de Mr René Chambon: "Le coton du Tanganika, souvenirs et projets". Pour en savoir déjà plus vous pouvez lire le n° 19 du bulletin trimestriel 'Habari za Kongolo' (en français malgré son nom) (un abonnement gratuit est possible: écrivez à Mr Gérard Jacques, Av. des Courses 16A / 19, 1050 Bruxelles, ou contactez le Père Jozef Burgraff au Mémorial).
Juin 2005
18 juin
Tears of Siga / Les larmes
de Sifa
(livre par David Ongombe; synthèse)
Une publication qui vous intéressera sûrement !
A Synopsis of Tears of Sifa, a novel by David Ongombe (translated in LOS ANGELES, USA).
Why Sifa after Kasavubu, Lumumba, Mobutu, Kabila I?
The novel, Tears of Sifa, was written to tell the story of humanity oppressed by the powerful. Sifa, whose name means “glory” or “happiness,” is in this work a figure with two contrasting aspects. On one hand, as the image on the book jacket indicates, she is a Congolese woman, dishonored, violated, and mutilated by her attacker. Sifa is thus the image of Congo, oppressed and stripped of any dignity. She is the symbol of all Africa, silenced by various tragedies. She is the image of any man or woman in distress around the world. The figure of Sifa is also the symbol of the woman upright, full of hope and energy; Sifa in this aspect embodies the hopes of weak. She represents the people of Congo, long stripped of their rights under various dictatorships, but now ready to rise again and courageously reclaim their freedom (“She gathered her courage,” p.15).
The whole work supports the voiceless victims and a condemnation of undemocratic systems. It is a reaction against the policy of confiscation (symbolized by the government of Osembe, p.101) and of presidencies seized by military force. (Note that the current government of the Congo is not a monarchy.) These policies have long brought the people to their knees. Indeed, for many years, the population of Congo never really enjoyed its right to democratic presidential elections – the thirty years of nepotism by Mobutu, the armed confiscation of the government by Kabila, his father, as well as the multiple occupations of the Congolese territory by nearby countries (Rwanda, Burundi, Uganda), for example.
The proposals suggested by the Sovereign National Conference for accession in the political government of the country via electoral activities have been abandoned. These days, the people’s feelings of indignation and frustration are being intensified. The presence de facto in the government, of a certain number of political authorities who were belligerents in the war, still constitutes and reinforces a “mentality” according to which only the strongest – militarily, financially and diplomatically – have the “last word” in this country, and thus the country is reduced to a kind of jungle (see p.10).
(refugee)
After 3.5 million deaths, thousands of rapes, wide-spread plundering, massacres (symbolized in the book by the village of Nyangwe, p. 35), and the tragedy of the refugees (p. 95-101), how can the Congolese people be proud to see in top political positions the same rulers who, with impunity, set and fanned the fires of war? The most tragic aspect is that the situation persists and etches into the Congolese mentality the notion that “might makes right.” Even if democracy were achieved, the idea that “if I amass sufficient weapons, I easily can conquer the country” is still prevalent. This sort of thinking does not provide solid ground for durable peace. Is it even possible to democratize without addressing the big question of truth between countries in “Grands Lacs”? Can we democratize without reconciling those countries on the common ground of truth, justice, and reconciliation? Can we democratize without the safety of peace and reconciliation with the countries to the east – Rwanda, Burundi, Uganda? Against this backdrop, the figure of Sifa is offered as an educational initiative to promote and support democratic efforts coming from a powerless and victimized people.
Sifa is then a mythical narration, a “hadisi,” an embodiment of the democratic mentality which includes an exploration of political truth, justice, and reconciliation. It shifts the reader’s focus in a direction totally different than the present reality, forged by the Congolese history (p. 55). Sifa invites to believe in the power of the powerless and the victims.
The success of a woman, a rape victim stripped by an all-powerful war machine, reminds us that powerlessness does not necessarily mean failure. It invites us to imagine that even the victims of a dictatorial system can one day, by democratic means, become the masters in a new order – in a peaceful and viable way for all. When that day dawns, political truth will belong to all the people. A kind of “non-violent great future” is always possible. The figure of a woman president (the victim of rape, a refugee and stripped of pride and possessions during the war) is significant here (p.15). Sifa is the vision of powerless people, with rights restored; regaining the power to speak and to govern in a world where it had been believed that the poor would forever remain silent.
Sifa’s democratic rise to power points out the importance of the taking into account the weak and powerless people in any political system. Set in the midst of war in Congo, the book refocuses the victims towards hope and the promotion of a democratic culture.
Religious component in the book:
It is no surprise to find a religious component at play here. The deep, plural, and "inter-community" attachment to religion remains one of the main refuges, one of the major forces, of the Congolese in the midst of these great tragedies. It constitutes a psychological element which makes it possible to define the evil and to catch a glimpse of a possible good (p. 208, 230, 233). I remember how, when Kabila entered Kinshasa to occupy it, we all were in tears amid the gunfire. Most people gathered in churches to pray. The moral strength, the power of their religious faith, remains one of the greatest treasures of Congolese; it is perhaps their strongest attribute. The relationship with God is still one of the most significant resources in the revival of life. That is why theology in this country is a truly a question of life and death. Bad theology can rob the people of one of the few powers they still have – gathering together to work toward unity, reconciliation, moral interchanges, and justice in the face of division and ethnic conflict.
It does not matter that, almost naively, evil is equated with sorcery, magic, and evil spirits (see the section on exorcism) and that the good is attributed to God (who is accessible by miracles and prayers). Confronted with all that is negative, it is important to realize that, notwithstanding a certain confusion regarding good and evil, religious fervor still remains one of the few means of transmitting universal human values. In the hellish immolation of values caused by wars and insecurity in the Congo, religion remains a rare island of humanity in the midst of tribalism and ethnic conflict.
In Tears of Sifa, far from being a source of defeat and passivity (see Karl Marx, “the opium of the people”), religion is invited instead to be a vehicle of deliverance, a rallying point for the values of unity, justice, and reconciliation (see the critique of religion, p. 226-232).
The power of youth:
(very young refugees)
However, a democratic ethic can only be effective if it takes into account the innovative power of youth. It must take into account the cries and the tears of young people and the children (see the tears of the baby, p. 169 and the letter of Moza, p. 89). It is through the power of innovation that Sifa shows still more clearly the instability and impermanence of dictatorships. Tears of Sifa posits a utopia of people mobilized against the defeatism brought about by war and the impunity currently enjoyed by some countries (p.161-189). Self-confidence is one of the fundamental values of democracy.
The culture of “the law of the strongest” which is prevalent in central Africa inevitably robs people of the notion that they are capable of recovering their rights. The figure of Sifa recalls the dignity of each citizen. Every citizen is able to direct his own destiny and, with the requisite skills, to take part in shaping the destiny of the community as well. Sifa is an invitation to demystify the dictatorships.
A plea for a culture of justice, of equitable distribution of goods, of reconciliation and of forgiveness:
(and his future ?)
Sifa becomes thus a demand for the redress of many injustices – the draft of blacks, various forms of slavery, colonization, goods unlawfully seized by dictators[1] (of whom Osembe is the principal figure and symbolic of the system, p. 101-132), the decimation of villages such as Makobola, the conscription of child soldiers (the story of Sefu, p.187-212), the rape of women, the torture inflicted on prisoners of war, plundering (see p. 113), and mass murders (see p. 49 and following). Only the establishment of a culture of justice, marked by equitable laws and a climate of forgiveness can create a responsible Africa, capable of forming reliable partnerships with other countries around the world, and no longer the passive victim of globalization. The demands of due process require a communal consensus based on the truth. In the book, the figure of Jongoomanga (God?), woven throughout the whole book (p. 271), symbolizes the high value placed on the truth which comes from the power of universal human community. In addition, one of the reviewers of this work, Professor Gabriel Ringle (See l’Appel) suggests that the ideal of forgiveness with regard to the questions of child soldiers (Sefu) and rape, is reminiscent of the works of Ricoeur.
The comparison here with the forgiveness philosophy of Ricoeur implies some continuity between the situation during the second World War (1940-45) and all other subsequent wars. And this involves some general and particular philosophy and theology of the war in general. But in sum, one can say emphatically that a culture of forgiveness is imperative, given the atrocities of the situation. It is required for the very survival of Africa and of all countries around the world! But forgiveness does not preclude justice, and only setting forth the unvarnished truth can put an end to violence and a culture of unpunished crimes.
Tears of Sifa – a demand for a federalist Congo:
A new culture of justice and human rights for the Congo, however, requires a federal form of government. This federalism called for here is not secessionism.
( war ...)
This is Moza’s thrust in his letter to the American president (p. 169-170). The Tears of Sifa echoes the remarks of a major African thinker, Msgr. T. Tshibangu, the Bishop of the Democratic Republic of the Congo. In his homily of March 27, 2005, he addressed the Congolese people in these words:
“Today the moment has truly come to cross over, resolutely and boldly, like a great liberator and catalytic challenge for the future. To take a decisive step toward a strong and truly decentralized ‘federal’ or ‘federal-like’ structure…” Of course, such a structure, which carefully and harmoniously develops and balances the power of both the central government and all the provincial and territorial states which make up country, was proposed as long ago as 1956, before Independence. Objective analysis suggests that such a structure seems particularly appropriate for a country like Congo – a country full of potential overall, each province of which is as large as two or three African countries. This federal structure was proposed in each successive draft of the Constitution, although for economic reasons, a break occurred with the Constitution of 1967.
The Constitution, proposed and even adopted by great national consensus by the C.N.S. in 1992, was entitled “The Constitution of the Federal Republic of Congo.” This proposal was readily accepted because, well conceived, adequately formulated, and careful to avoid the pitfalls of conflict and dissension that some feared, this structure could lead to effective overall national development. At the same time, it could lead to equally significant growth and development of each individual province. (For the precise details and the development of a specific federal structure of Congo, the specialists and experts may refer, for comparison, to similar structures existing in other countries throughout the world at the time.)
(destructions)
The voice of this Congolese theologian and bishop speaks of the letter of Moza as being “signed by the tears” of all the Congolese children (see Tears of Sifa, p. 169). We hear in this passage the cries of the thousands of the young people, women, and children, who have been long excluded, marginalized, and forgotten in the country.
Hard to unify, the many diverse populations often find themselves powerless and disenfranchised in remote provinces and villages. Because of the instability of war, thousands and thousands people stream in an exodus from the country provinces towards the capital, the unilaterally centralist nature of which poses potential problems for true socio-economic federalism.
This exodus results in a life of economic stagnation and poverty for many people while simultaneously leaving the potential of the provinces and villages untapped or, worse, despoiled by traffickers. This difficulty can be overcome only by developing an adequate infrastructure in each federal state. This would include, in particular, a more total electrification of the cities and villages. In Tears of Sifa, the example of the small oil lamp made out of a sardine box (p.168) recalls the Congolese scandal of Inga Dam which had great potential to provide electricity in huge sections of the country, where many people have only outdated devices to provide light and power. If we fail to take into account the difficulty of a “unifying” centralization to solve the interior problems of the country, we continue to limit the chances of development of the states through federalism. The stakes are high. Without federalism, we are in danger of falling prey to the myth of Mobutu that what is good for the capital is the best and only solution for the whole country – “Parti bo Moko, Ekolo bo Moko, Tata bo Moko” or “only one political movement (dictatorial), only one father (implying that the president is irreplaceable), only one country” And at the same time, everyone, even in the most remote villages, must raise his hands towards the city of the president, Kinshasa, the capital. That famous ‘Only one father’ – the ‘irreplaceable’ and immutable president – is said to be “strong for ever and ever,” but is unable to feed all his children in the depths of the countryside. (Isn’t that one of the reasons for the defeat of our famous “father” blessed by our ancestors; “father” whom we always used to extol by prayer and songs?)
But at the same time, the teachers and the nurses in the villages go for years and years without salaries, their wages coming from Kinshasa either confiscated on the way by their bosses or arriving very late. These state employees find that they can live only by corruption. (The Belgian newspaper, Passe Partout, reviewed Tears of Sifa and focused almost entirely on the question of children and youth. That is entirely right. The book is a plea on behalf of all African youth. See the poem.) The children (pupils) reap the consequencesof inadequate education, vices, sexual exploitation of the girls by their teachers and principals, etc... How many girls submitted to abuse by their teachers to obtain good marks in school because they did not have the money to pay bribes? Are they not then traumatized and disoriented for the rest of their lives? (I remember having met one of my friends who was abused by our teacher. She told me she was not able to bear children as a result). And what is the consequence of enduring prolonged moral – or even physical – violence? Many young people were whipped on the head and sometimes on their naked buttocks.
Slavery and the draft of the pupils are serious realities in the schools even today. How can you train a man to be responsible for making democratic choices by striking him hard on the head or by using terror to educate him? Sadly, one of the first places where the children learn fear instead of love is often in school. The first “dictator” they encounter (after the children’s father, who likely beats their mother) is often their teacher.
How many of the girls were beaten, tortured, subjected to heavy work, or threatened with death if they had a boy friend or had had sexual relations? The situation in the schools is repeated at the universities. One need only go to the University of Kinshasa to see the indescribable privations which these young people endure – students made slaves by their unpaid professors, severely malnourished, deprived of opportunities for research… Sometimes the students have organized demonstrations in support of changes in the political situation. But the government often reacted by bloody repressions. At the time of Mobutu, a horrible massacre was perpetrated against the students at the University of Lubumbashi. But no one in the government was ever investigated or held accountable. No one took up the case for the student victims who were beheaded. No justice was demanded or received. If you ask some students what they wish to do later in life, they will answer, “I will do the same as others. I will find a job, find a way to earn lots of money and make myself rich.” There seems to be no solution for this country. How can the young people be prepared for any change in their country? Can they be prepared to sacrifice – to give all their effort to the future of the country?
Federalism as a possible solution:
The only hope for a better future for the Congolese lies in reconfiguring the population into self-determined, individual, independent states, bound together in a single federation. Federalism offers greater opportunity to all the states, particularly to those deep in the interior of the country. It can empower them to deal with foreign investors in order to develop their unique natural resources and assist in overall coordination of economic and infrastructure development efforts.
All of the states, stronger and more economically viable when they act together, can support the power of a central Congolese government if it is truly representative. The federal government is empowered only insofar as the individual states which constitute it are viable and interacting harmoniously. An ineffective central government which relies entirely on its own power will implode. This is, in fact, the situation with the current Congolese government. Tears of Sifa is therefore a plea to take into account the most forgotten Congolese populations, in the area of Maniema, for example (see p. 245). Since the draft of the Blacks (see p.168), this area has repeatedly been the victim of repressive political and religious governance.
Without a fully developed infrastructure – basic necessities like electricity (oil lamp of Moza, p. 168) – it had no choice but to look for a hand-out from Kinshasa. Doesn’t Maniema have a right to become a federal state in its own right under the protection of the international community (see Epave poem, p. 51-54), rather than remain utterly dependent upon Kinshasa and subject to its central power? Such a question no doubt requires courage and a renewed empowerment of the UNISIAN organizations present in the area. The Congolese wait to see UNO effectively promote a new era of peace and survival (see the speech of Okito p.178). Tears of Sifa calls for an intervention by interested international entities in the management of these conflicts (see the speech, p. 251-265). By means of satirical speeches, the conclusion of the book is a demand that the great powers, including the Church and other religions, (p. 226-231) end their silence on this issue, because their silence is in effect actually passive complicity in the misery of people around the world (see p. 208 and p. 226-231).
The role of spirits (Kimbwe p. 127, the boa p. 172-184, Mbwembwe p. 145), exorcism, fetishes (the appearances p. 227, God as bisexual and in process p. 187-212), and traditional African attitudes:
Tears of Sifa does not require that we believe in sorcery, evil spirits, miracles or paranormal phenomena. This work is a mythical and narrative story which seeks to give voice to various realities which give rise to and add to the complexity of the Congolese war – and indeed all similar occurrences in Africa. Its aim is to reclaim something positive from this catastrophe.
Political wars often are entangled with spiritual beliefs which provide contradictory interpretations of good and evil and of the existing social problems. These beliefs form an imagery of life itself and of critical events in life. Repeatedly, dictatorships have used this imagery – making use of the symbolic meaning of “father” and of “ancestral blessing,” for example – to give credence to their government. They called those in power – the president and his predecessors – “ father” and “blessed ancestors,” and claimed they were imbued with hidden powers and the occult forces of ancestral spirits.
Many government officials thus sought power by evoking invisible forces (see PRIMA Curia in Congo). The recourse to mysticism (like the Rose Cross, for example) is currently quite common among African intellectual and political dignitaries. Soldiers are sent to the battle field with fetishes to protect them. The example of Mulele Mayi in 1964 is illustrative of this practice (p. 149-150). Similarly, exorcisms in churches – Catholic and Evangelical alike, as well as Islam – are indicative of the struggle between good and evil, between life and death. Various episodes in Tears of Sifa attempt to portray the African situation as pulled apart by wars, upset by spiritual and cultural trauma, torn between a material view of life and a world view centered in the world of spirits. I translate here (mutatis-mutandis) the Congolese phrase “between water” as “between several wars.” The story of Sifa does not presuppose a belief in an invisible world (of spirits and sorcery), but it does seek to focus on the material as well as the spiritual complexity of the African problem. Indeed, one cannot claim to understand Africa if he neglects this conflict of interpretations between the intellectual and spiritual worlds world. The extensive interconnections between religion and political power in this context require a much more complex analysis of the African situation. Purely humanitarian projects are simply insufficient for the African people, for whom all life situations involve, to one degree or another, factors like the mother river (p. 72), one’s ancestors, the Holy Spirit, the Virgin Mary (p. 236), or “Jongoomanga” (p. 271). Full entry of the African into the international conversation will require understanding the enormous impact of all the African civil wars.
When I speak about the boa in Tears of Sifa, some are shocked. Some ask how an account of war can contain descriptions which are apparently mythical. (One reviewer in Vers L’avenir understood this quite well, saying that the mythical narration is like what we call in Swahili “hadisinjoo” – or in French, “conte” – which is myth or a symbolic presentation of reality.) The boa represents a phantom or a spirit, and it is true that such a literature can shock those who are not immersed in African culture.
But here the snake or boa is must be interpreted symbolically to mean all the aggressive forces against which the African must fight to survive. The word “boa” stands for all the other dangerous and aggressive animals and small insects with which people in towns and villages must contend. Indeed, every day, an inadequate African medical system does battle with amoebas, the Tsetse fly, snakes, and other sources of disease. The violence of all these “natural” enemies constitutes yet another war being waged daily, particularly in remote African villages. So Tears of Sifa does not talk only of conventional wars, with weapons, but also of this vast universe of other wars which slow down development in Africa – the daily confrontation of all the animals, big and small, (symbolized by the boa), which complicate human life.
The same boa returns in the exorcism episode and symbolizes yet another war – the spiritual one. In this war, the African uses spiritual weapons – prayer, religion, sorcery, his ancestors. Even in the large cities, Africans are engaged in this spiritual warfare, carrying on these battles internally. In fact, these internal battles are most frightening, because they make it much more difficult to identify the real causes of underdevelopment. Sometimes the underlying the political causes are invisible spiritual root causes. Then the wars become very complicated because the enemy can take on several faces. Sometimes, for example, people with trypanosomes claim that they acquired the disease by sorcery or magic. Then when the doctor attacks the malaria or trypanosomes medically, it becomes difficult for them to identify the true causes of their suffering. They then enter into an even more frightening war – the one between spiritual causes and material causes of their disease. By evoking exorcism, spirits, or prayers in church, in addition to medical consultation, people become “analphabetic,” assimilating misinformation about modern explanations of life. In Tears of Sifa, the episode of confrontation between the mercenary and the invisible boa should not be surprising. Here we find ourselves in a wolrd in which one presupposes an ancestral power which can be called forth against every problem in life, even if that force is “Bulozi ya Muzungu” (the sorcery of the white man equipped by science and technological devices). With this supernatural imagery, African politicians can control their white partners. For example, during the war they used to tell to the child soldiers that, although the whites were technologically strong and scientifically better equipped, the young soldiers could courageously resist against those weapon by relying on supernatural forces. The result, of course, was that many child soldiers were killed in the war.
The episode of the confrontation of the mercenary with the invisible boa plunges us into this world where the African believes the power of occult ancestral forces will be sufficient to overcome Western power. The fundamental question here is this: Who will save the African, his culture or Western culture? Who is the friend of the African – a civilization which comes to help it as “mercenaries” or his own ancestors? Or the two factors combined? The churches? Free-thinkers?
The author of the article “David Ongombe’s book” in Ubu father, a Belgian newspaper, seems to understand the intent of the descriptions of the “spirits,” the “lion” (Kimbwe), and the boa. He talks about Dawa (the fetish witch) and bafumu (fetishes) which in times of war and misery are always considered causative factors by Africans trying to find explanations and solutions for the problems. Then it is necessary to clearly identify the true source of conflicting interpretations of the facts. This question is also a “war” of sorts (see Paul Ricoeur on conflicts of interpretation) over the causes of difficulties in life. This kind of war is the new situation in Africa.
Before, the interpretation of African culture and circumstance was a traditional one. The actual African tradition is a “war” or conflict of interpretation about each situation and the causes of the problem. What are the true causes of my current death? That is currently one of the most significant African questions. Responses are varied and conflicting. Many Africans have died trying to find the true answer. It is not difficult to find sick people who are mixing traditional drugs and little bit of aspirin and a few prayers from the church in hopes of finding renewed health. At the same time, good medical care is unavailable because of poverty. That’s the explanation put forth in Tears of Sifa, a novel in which the narrative of war interspersed with traditional African stories (see In Form of Myth).
One must admit that there is here a certain conflict in the term “elimination of illiteracy.” The phrase suggests the opposition of several cultures. The African is divided and uncertain which to choose sometimes between ancestral mentalities, the advice of the church, prayers, and the requirements of modern progress. A modern rationalist culture already exists in Africa, proposing a mode of precise analysis of the facts. But it meets a religious mentality derived from evangelization and its consequences. This evangelization posits a world view which is not the same one as that of secular modernity. An African doctor, or even a European who is neither Christian nor Islamic, does not see the disease of his patient (who has just said fervent prayers for a miraculous cure) with the same eyes as the patient does. The problem can become further complicated for certain cases such as abortion or artificial insemination. In certain villages, as in Kibombo with regard to the devastation caused by trypanosomes disease, victims often regarded the medicine, Fometro, as a failure against the occult forces they considered the true source of the disease trypanosome. This does not necessarily cause people to refuse modern treatment, but it does result in their being less confident about it. We also see cases where HIV is causing widespread devastation, but the traditional cultural believes more readily that the causes are sorcery and ancestral spirits rather than HIV itself. The resistance to modern medical culture is reinforced by the traditional medical mentality which finds its root in spirituality. This is not to say that the traditional medicine of our African ancestors is wrong or weak. On the contrary, in some cases it has proved to be strong and powerful. But it is hard to measure the therapeutic effectiveness of traditional religious practice in the face of modern medical problems.
One cannot help but notice the thousands of people suffering serious health problems in Africa who find themselves torn between the advice of modern medicine and the claims of religion (Christian prayers) and traditional remedies. How many people find themselves choosing between “going to see the doctor” and going to consult with someone who can help them fight the disease with sorcery, magic and evil spirits? (See Pasteur) Whether we call it “between water” or “between the wars” or just being between living fully and dying a slow death of disease, the brutal entry of the lion, the boa, the spirits, and the ancestors in Tears of Sifa is one way to view the complexity of the Congolese and African war, a war that is both actual and spiritual.
The eagle, the boa, the exorcist, God... these characters, too, are meant to bring to surface other deep aspects of African life of war for so many centuries, a war of being fought for the elimination of illiteracy and created by culture shock. When we see a crowd of Congolese youth demonstrating to secure their rights, singing hymns and invoking the power of God to drive out the current holders of political power, we realize that religion is not insignificant in Africa’s world view and in the solution to social difficulties. And yet there is simultaneously at work an element of pure modern rationality which seeks democratic solutions to the Congolese conflict. This results in a very odd mix – political activism mixed with religious questions! It means that the Congolese are fighting a war on two levels – a political one with the power of demonstration and a cultural one with the power of God. And victory is seen as coming from God as well as from social action.
The question of God and suffering:
In part of the book (pages 187-212), I use poetry and myth to express my ideas and questions about human suffering, misery, poverty, violence, lack of human rights, and the nature of God. Who and where is God during a war? In human experience? In pages 189-212 of this novel, I ask these questions in the form of myth and take process theology as my inspiration.
It must be remembered that the main theme of Tears of Sifa involves the life of a woman, a war refugee who experienced much suffering, causing her to flee from East Congo to the capital, Kinshasa. But pages 189-193, tells of the serious suffering of children between the ages of 13 and 16, where were forced into war as soldiers. One example is the child, Sefu, who, with his friend, is the victim of a landslide caused by the bombardment of a trench. He is the only survivor. Alone in the forest and under the bombed-out rubble, he meets God. God appears to him as an ugly personage with a sorrowful face, a face he assumes whenever Sefu is sad. In the course of their conversation, God changes his mood and becomes handsome – even cheerful. And that is not all. During their conversation, God changes his gender – he starts out as a man but he becomes a compassionate mother. In this guise, she helps Sefu get water and bananas because Sefu was hungry. After eating, the child becomes happy. The mood of the “God-Mama” then changes too. She becomes beautiful and smiling, in direct proportion to the child’s gladness. But then the child Sefu begins to tell her about the atrocities of the war, and after only a few words, she weeps. Sad again, God’s visage again becomes ugly and unseemly.
As the conversation continues, she keeps changing her mood and appearance in reaction to Sefu’s news about the war. Finally the child Sefu feels the need to know the identity of this person. Sefu asks, “Who are you? An evil spirit, a human person, or a God?” And in answer to this question, the personage disappears (p. 197-198.) Returning sometime much later, God explains to Sefu that nobody can know who he is. The day that people know who he is, they will no longer search for truth, peace, and love. Their brief meeting ends there, and Sefu manages to free himself from the rubble and meet his friends at the airport. The airport is occupied and protected by many soldiers. There Sefu confronts a horrible scene – planes are picking up hundreds and hundreds of the corpses of his friends, massacred by enemies. He is troubled, angry, and revolted, and he begins to cry. The child takes his weapon and shoots in all directions. He looks for the divine personage he had met in the rubble in order to ask him for an explanation of the unjust fate of his friends. He then sees the face of that personage in the sun. He cries out to him, “God, God, God, do you too allow this massacre?” (p.197). Getting no answer, he shoots at the sun and God collapses.
Something significant happens in that moment. In his anger, Sefu again sees the same visage in many other human beings, especially in the faces of the great ones who have fought for peace, justice and human rights. Eventually, Sefu kills himself (p.191).
This story of Sefu is set against the backdrop of panentheism and the question of suffering. In the end, isn’t God someone who has no identity other than people’s relationships? If so, would he not be the interplay created by our situations? Isn’t God the one who is always affected by our conditions of happiness or sorrow? Isn’t God very close, even subject to death at the hands of all those who destroy human life and peace? For when we human beings try capture God in an image (through theology, actions, institutions, sacraments, laws), don’t we miss him? Is God a man or a woman, a father or a mother? Can he not become a man or woman (p.197-198) according to the needs of the moment or the person?
In daily, practical pastoral life, these questions emerge whenever millions of human beings hear about God, and yet are faced with the realities of with war, violence, male domination, child exploitation, misery, dictatorship, and the like. How can we explain that God is good and full of love for us? How can we explain his identity? By his relationship to the real world or by transcendentalist dogmatism?
The idea of God that is offered to people often seems to be a great patron, a saving creator (who rested on the seventh day), hidden within the tabernacle or far away in a heaven, the keys to which are held by religious chiefs and their institutions and sacraments. Isn’t God more like this changing personage, embodying in turn our sufferings and our joys, a personage near to all creation? Isn’t God especially present in those engaged in humanitarian action, in those fighting for peace? How do we speak of God today in view of his apparent silence when confronted by the horrible reality of the Rwandan genocide and 3,500,000 Congolese dead in the Eastern war of Congo-Rwanda? How do we speak about God to the victims of terrorism in Iraq, the destruction in the U.S.A. on September 11th, of Hiroshima, Nagasaki, Madrid, South Africa, or slavery…?
Can God still be a humane God while at the same time remaining transcendent and only perceptible in moral law, in pompous celebrations, and in moral principles? The mythical passage on the meeting of God and Sefu, the child soldier, leads inevitably to those theological questions. And those questions can be better understood in the context of process thought (p. 204).
(There have been reactions to Sefu’s story. I am enclosing a photocopy of an article written on this subject by professor and journalist , Gabriel Ringlet, Vice Rector of Catholic University of Louvain: G. Ringlet, “La bavure de l’enfant soldat. Aimez vos ennemis …pardonnez, et vous serez pardonnés (Luke 6:27-37)”, in "L’appel" février, 2004.) See the same presentation on Sefu narration by G.Ringlet in his recent book: "Je serai pour vous un enfant laboureur" Paris, Albin Michel, 2006.
Author: David Ongombe Taluhata
[1] And their friends. Assets were then funnelled to foreign accounts (see the hidden file during the “National Sovereignty Conference” on the assets seized by politicians.)
SYNTHESE DU LIVRE LES LARMES DE SIFA DE DAVID ONGOMBE
Pourquoi Sifa face Kasavubu, Lumumba, Mobutu, Kabila I ?
1. Les larmes de Sifa, un plaidoyer pour l'humanité injustement affaibli par les puissants.
Sifa, dont le nom signifie " gloire ", " bonheur ", est dans cet ouvrage une figure à deux sens contrastés. D'une part, comme l'indique son image à la page de couverture, elle symbolise la femme congolaise déshonorée, violée, mutilée par son agresseur ; elle est l'image d'un Congo opprimé et dépouillé de toute dignité ; elle est le symbole de toute l'Afrique, bâillonnée par divers drames ; elle est l'image de toute femme, de tout homme en détresse. D'autre part, la figure de Sifa est le symbole de la femme debout, pleine d'espérance et d'énergie ; Sifa récapitule les espoirs des faibles. Elle représente le peuple congolais longtemps bafoué dans ses droits sous diverses dictatures mais prêt à se redresser courageusement pour retrouver sa vie et conquérir sa liberté (p.15 : " elle rassembla son courage "). L'ensemble de l'ouvrage est un plaidoyer pour la cause des victimes et des " sans voix ". Il est une réaction contre la politique de confiscation (symbolisée par le gouvernement de Osembe p.101) et de prise de pouvoir par les armes ou par des situations de fait( par rapport au pouvoir actuel, il faut dire que le Congo n'est pas une monarchie1). Une politique qui a longtemps mis le peuple à genoux. En effet, depuis des années, la population congolaise n'a jamais vraiment joui de ses droits aux élections présidentielles démocratiques. En sont la preuve les trente ans de népotisme moboutien, la confiscation armée du pouvoir par Kabila le père, et tant d'autres..., ainsi que les multiples occupations du territoire congolais par les pays voisins (Rwanda, Burundi, Ouganda). Le mutisme imposé aux dispositions de la Conférence Nationale Souveraine sur l'accession au pouvoir n'en dit pas moins. De nos jours, le sentiment d'indignation et de frustration qu'en ressent le peuple congolais s'intensifie de plus en plus. La présence de facto (et sans procès) au pouvoir d'un certain nombre d'autorités politiques impliquées dans les tueries constitue encore une sorte d' " impensé " selon lequel seuls les plus militairement, financièrement et diplomatiquement forts ont le dernier mot dans ce pays réduit en une sorte de jungle (voir p.10).
Après 3 500 000 morts, des milliers de viols, de pillages, de massacres (symbolisés par celui du village de Nyangwe p. 35), le drame des réfugiés (p. 95-101), le peuple congolais peut-il être fier de voir à la tête des postes politiques ceux-là même qui ont impunément allumé ou attisé le feu de la guerre ? Le plus tragique est que la situation perdure et incruste dans les mentalités congolaises l'imaginaire selon lequel la raison du plus fort fait la loi de la vie. Contre une telle mentalité, la figure de Sifa se présente comme une stratégie éducatrice pour promouvoir et soutenir des remises en cause démocratiques en provenance des faibles et des victimes. Sifa est alors un récit, un " hadisi ", initiatique pour la démocratie. Elle tourne le regard de ses lecteurs en un sens inverse du cours jusque-là imposé à l'histoire congolaise (p.55). Elle invite à croire en la force des faibles et des victimes. Le parcours de réussite d'une femme victime de viol, dénudée par la toute- puissante machine de guerre rappelle que, d'une manière ou d'une autre, le faible est toujours un défi pour le plus fort. Elle nous permet d'imaginer que ceux-là même qui sont victimes du système peuvent un jour, par voie démocratique, devenir les maîtres d'un nouveau jeu, pacifique et viable pour tous. En ce moment-là, le vrai pouvoir appartiendra au peuple. Une sorte de " grand soir " non violent est toujours possible. La figure d'une femme présidente (victime de viol, réfugiée et dépouillée pendant la guerre) est significative ici (p.15). Sifa est l'utopie des faibles rétablis dans leurs droits et reprenant force et parole dans un monde où l'on avait cru que plus jamais un pauvre ne dirait mot. L'accès démocratique au pouvoir par Sifa rappelle l'urgence de la prise en compte des faibles dans tout mécanisme de gouvernance. En pleine guerre du Congo, l'ouvrage tourne le regard des victimes vers l'espérance et la promotion d'une culture démocratique. Rien n'étonne de retrouver ici la mise en jeu de la composante religieuse. L'attachement massif, pluriel et " multi-communautaire " au religieux est resté l'un des grands refuges, l'une des grandes forces des Africains, des Congolais, au milieu des grandes tragédies. Il constitue un élément psychologique permettant de localiser le mal et d'entrevoir un bien possible (p. 208, 230, 233). Peu importe que, de manière presque naïve (voir la présentation de Passe-partout), le mal y soit facilement situé dans la sorcellerie, la magie, les esprits mauvais et que le bien soit attribué à Dieu (accessible par des miracles et des prières). Face à tout ce qui y est négatif il est important de reconnaître que, sans soutenir une confusion entre le mal et le bien, les ferveurs religieuses résistent encore dans une large mesure comme de rares véhicules de valeurs humaines universelles. En plein enfer brûlant d'anti-valeurs imposées par les guerres et les précarités, les religions demeurent de rares îlots d'humanisme, au-delà des tribalismes, des conflits ethniques. Les religions, dans les Larmes de Sifa, loin d'être sources de défaitisme (opium du peuple), sont invitées à être des lieux de parole, des ressources d'unification autour de valeurs d'unité, de justice et de réconciliation (voir la critique de la religion p. 226-232). Cependant, une éthique démocratique ne peut être efficace que si elle prend en charge les forces novatrices de la jeunesse. Elle doit prendre en compte les cris et les larmes de jeunes et des enfants (p. 169 les larmes du bébé2 et la lettre de Moza p. 89). C'est grâce à cet esprit de nouveauté que Sifa fait le pari de la contingence et la relativité des dictatures. Elle constitue une utopie mobilisatrice du peuple contre le défaitisme entraîné par la guerre et les impunités dont jouissent certains gouvernants actuels (p.161-189) La confiance en soi est une des valeurs fondamentales de la démocratie. Ne peut jouir d'un droit ou accomplir un devoir qu'un sujet qui se sait sujet de droit. La culture de " la loi du plus fort " qui s'est toujours déployée en Afrique centrale a fini par enlever aux peuples la conscience d'être capables de recouvrer leurs droits. La figure de Sifa rappelle la dignité de tout citoyen quel que soient son passé et ses fragilités. Tout citoyen est capable de diriger son destin et, avec les capacités requises, de prendre en main le destin de la communauté. Sifa est une initiation à démystifier les dictatures.
2. Plaidoyer pour une culture de justice, des procès équitables, de réconciliation et de pardon
Sifa devient ainsi un lieu de requête pour plusieurs procès et requêtes de dignité : au sujet de la traite négrière, des diverses formes d'esclavages, de la colonisation, des biens mal acquis par les dictateurs (dont Osembe est la figure symbolique principale, p. 101-132) de leurs complices, notamment accessibles via les banques européennes (voir le dossier occulté des biens mal acquis à la Conférence Nationale), de la décimation des villages tels que Makobola, de la traite des enfants soldats l'histoire de Sefu p.187-212), des viols des femmes, des tortures infligées aux prisonniers des guerres, des pillages (voir p. 113), des charniers (voir p. 49 et suivantes). Seul cet établissement d'une culture de procès équitables et de pardon peut créer une Afrique responsable, capable de partenariat fiable, et non plus victime passive de la mondialisation. Les requêtes en procès requièrent un consensus communautaire garant de vérité. Dans le livre, la figure de Jongoomanga, qui traverse et clôture l'ouvrage (p.271), symbolise ce haut lieu de vérité issu de toutes les forces de la communauté humaine universelle. Par ailleurs un des présentateurs de cet ouvrage (dans l'Appel3 ) évoque la question des enfants soldats (Sefu) et des viols, dans un idéal de pardon comme travail selon l'esprit de Ricœur. La culture du pardon est impérieuse face aux atrocités de la situation. Elle est même un impératif de survie ! Mais le pardon n'exclut pas la justice et la mise à nu de la vérité pour proscrire une civilisation de violence et de crimes impunis.
3. Les Larmes de Sifa..., une requête pour un fédéralisme congolais
Mais une nouvelle de justice ainsi requise pour le Congo nécessité une entrée dans le fédéralisme. Tel est la requête de Moza dans sa lettre au président américain ( p. 169-170). Les larmes de Sifa rejoignent ici les propos d'un grand penseur Congolais. Monseigneur Tchibangu dans son homélie du 27 Mars 2005: " Le moment est vraiment venu aujourd'hui de franchir résolument et hardiment, comme un grand défi libérateur et catalyseur pour l'avenir, le pas décisif pour la structure fortement et réellement décentralisée, " fédérale " ou " de type fédéral ". Une telle structure, veillant bien sûr au bon fonctionnement et au développement harmonieux et équilibré du pouvoir central autant que de toutes les entités provinciales et territoriales du Pays, fut proposée, dès 1956, avant l'Indépendance, sur base d'analyses objectives, comme convenant le mieux à un Pays comme le Congo, - riche de potentialités dans toutes ses parties, et dont chaque province correspond en moyenne à la dimension de deux ou trois Pays africains. - Par la suite, la structure fédérale fut proposée dans tous les Projets successifs de Constitution, la rupture ayant intervenu avec la Constitution de 1967 pour des raisons conjoncturelles déterminées du moment. La Constitution élaborée et même adoptée par la C.N.S. en 1992, sur base d'un grand Consensus national, fut même intitulée : Constitution de la République Fédérale du Congo. Cela ne posa aucun problème, car, bien conçue et adéquatement formulée, cette structure, loin de conduire par elle-même, comme certains pourraient le craindre, à des dérives de conflits et de dissensions, ne peut que contribuer au contraire au développement national effectif d'ensemble, en même temps qu'au fort développement concomitant de la base et à l'épanouissement de chacune des provinces ou grandes régions du Congo. Les spécialistes et experts se référeront pour les précisions et les mises au point pour une structure unitaire fédérale spécifique du Congo, à titre comparatif à certaines structurations existant dans ce sens dans certains Pays à travers le monde ". Cette voie du prélat catholique était déjà portée par la lettre de Monza signée des larmes de tous les enfants congolais rejetés à la périphérie de la vie par le poids d'un unitarisme désordonné imposé par les gouvernements centraux qui se sont succédés aux pouvoirs au fil des années. Seuls un recompositions unifiée des populations congolaises en entités autonomes, auto-développées et pluralistes peut redonner aux sujets congolais individuels une chance de s'impliquer délibérément et de façon irresponsable dans le processus d'un avenir congolais meilleures. Fédéralisme ne veut pas dire rejet de l'unité ou cessessionisme. Le fédéralisme donne plutôt la chance aux paysans oubliés dans la mort du sous développement imposée par un gouvernement central lâche et égoïste, de se prendre en charge, s'organiser, coopérer avec l'étranger pour retrouver son humanité. Mais l'ensemble des entités responsables fortifiées de manière autonome peut soutenir la force d'une unité congolaise bien distribuée dans la pluralité. Les larmes de Sifa constituent un plaidoyer pour une prise au sérieux des plus oubliés de la population congolaise (p. 245), par exemple la région du Maniéma. Depuis la traite des Noirs (p.168), cette région n'a reçu des pouvoirs politiques successifs que des tragédies. Privée d'infrastructure de développement, comme l'électricité (lampe à huile de Moza, p. 168), a-t-elle encore à être traînée dans des projets pour un état unioniste et centraliste, la main tendue vers Kinshasa ? N'a-t-elle pas un droit particulier en vertu de sa fragilité (voir poème Epave, p. 51-54) à jouir d'un statut fédéral sous protection de la communauté internationale, plutôt que d'une dépendance étouffante vis-à-vis du pouvoir central ? Une telle question appelle probablement un courage et un dynamisme renouvelé des organismes onusiens présents dans la région. Le peuple congolais attend de voir l'ONU promouvoir efficacement une nouvelle ère de paix et de survie (voir le discours d'Okito p.178). Les larmes de Sifa constitue une interpellation à une politique internationale parfois partiale dans la gestion des conflits (voir le discours p. 251-265). Par des discours satiriques, la fin de l'ouvrage lance une requête aux grandes puissances y compris religieuses (p. 226-231) : le silence face aux conflits ne frise-t-il pas la complicité (voir p. 208 et p. 226-231) ?
Pourquoi cet ouvrage parle-t-il des esprits (Kimbwe p. 127, le boa p. 172-184, Mbwembwe p. 145, de l'exorcisme, des fétiches, des apparitions p. 227, Dieu bisexué et en devenir p. 187-212...) et de l'Afrique traditionnelle ?
Les larmes de Sifa ne dit pas s'il faut croire ou non à la sorcellerie, aux esprits mauvais, aux miracles et aux phénomènes paranormaux. Cet ouvrage est un récit qui tente de faire parler divers éléments par lesquels le Congolais est en situation de guerre. Il entend ranimer différentes ressources pour sortir de cette catastrophe. Or ce dynamisme entre parfois en conflit avec des croyances spiritualistes qui fournissent des interprétations contradictoires au sujet du mal social. Ces croyances sont présentes dans certains " impensés " de la vie et complexifient tout regard critique sur les événements. A plusieurs reprises, des dictatures se sont servies de la symbolique du père et de la bénédiction ancestrale pour accréditer leur gouvernance. Elles ont fait tenir le président pour un père, béni des ancêtres et doté de puissances occultes. Nombreux responsables gouvernementaux ont ainsi voulu renforcer leur pouvoir par l'évocation de forces invisibles (voir Prima Curia au Congo). Le recours aux mysticismes (comme la Rose Croix) est une des pratiques les plus courantes parmi les dignitaires politiques et intellectuels africains. Des soldats ont été envoyés au champ de bataille avec des fétiches de protection. L'exemple de Mulele Mayi en 1964 est éloquent à ce sujet (p. 149-150). De même, les exorcismes dans des églises aussi bien catholiques que de Réveil sont associés aux armes quotidiennes de la vie contre la mort. Les divers épisodes des Larmes de Sifa tentent de présenter l'Africain comme un sujet complexe et écartelé entre plusieurs guerres, bouleversé par des traumatismes spirituels et culturels, tiraillé entre une analyse matérialiste de la vie et un regard spiritualiste référé au monde des esprits. Je traduirais ainsi l'Entre les eaux de Mudimbe comme un " entre plusieurs guerres ".
Le récit de Sifa n'entend aucunement proposer une croyance à un monde invisible (des esprits et de la sorcellerie). Il veut néanmoins ouvrir les yeux sur la complexité aussi bien matérielle que spirituelle du problème africain. On ne peut en effet prétendre développer l'Afrique en négligeant ce conflit d'interprétations entre monde intellectuel et monde spirituel. Les complicités parfois très avérées du religieux avec les pouvoirs appellent en ce sens des analyses plus complexes. Les divers projets humanitaires ne suffissent pas pour des peuples, dont toute interprétation relève aussi bien de la volonté humaine que de la terre juge (p. 72), du fleuve mère, des ancêtres, de l'Esprit saint, de la Vierge Marie (p. 236), de Jongoomanga (p. 271). L'entrée de l'Africain dans le concert des nations devrait être un processus de prise en compte unifiée et intégrale de l'homme. Note: l'écrivain (auteur également de cette présentation du livre) est Ongombe Taluhata David, né à Kindu (RDC) le 25/8/1969.
Pour savoir plus de ce qui se passe actuellement en Afrique : Cliquez ici si des nouvelles de l'Afrique vous intéressent (site spiritain du Canada Français) Informations (site spiritain Paris) se rapportant à l'Afrique (e.a. à la RDC) (Fr) Des nouvelles, religieuses surtout, éditées par l'Agence Fides (Fr) Réseau de 40 congrégations religieuses missionnaires (existant en Europe et en Afrique). Ses objectifs : lutter contre les causes structurelles qui concernent le commerce équitable, le trafic des armes légères, l'eau comme un droit, la dette, l'accessibilité aux médicaments. Ses moyens : lobbying auprès des décideurs politiques à tous les niveaux, informations, analyses de dossiers etc. (Fr/English.) Vous pouvez cliquer également ici (Missionary Service News Agency) Site très riche en liens supplémentaires couvrant le monde entier (souvent en anglais) (Fr/It)
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