MY EXPERIENCE WITH THE NATION OF RWANDA

Antoinette Kanyabutembo and me

Thank you very much for the opportunity to speak at the Rwanda National Prayer Banquet in Silver Springs,  Maryland.    Antoinette Kanyabutembo asked for me to speak on, “My experience with the nation of Rwanda.”
 

            The Lord gave me the privilege to pastor in Rwanda.   With that came the experience of sharing in the rituals of life – birth, marriage, sickness, and death.   One great privilege was listening to the bzee (elders) of Rwanda.    We live in a season of history in which those who experienced the East African Revival will soon be gone from this created earth.   Now we have the opportunity to listen to their voices.   Frequently this is at family gatherings and even hospitals.

          

Prayers at the Banquet

  The bzee of the East African Revival had the original vision for the East African Community.   They began in an isolated village of Gahini, Rwanda.   Yet, all who consider themselves Balokole (Born Again, Saved, or Evangelical) in Sub-Saharan Africa will trace their history back to Gahini.   The Revival started with prayer.   It concluded that unity was no respecter of divisions of nation, race, ethnicity, nor denomination.    The Revival spoke a simple word of our Lord, “Go.”  It went to locations like Burundi, Congo, Tanzania, and Uganda.   Those who went planted churches.   They started schools.   They preached, “Man is made in the image of God.”   They began the intellectual seeds that broke colonialism and called for independence.   

East Africa Revival Leaders

            Some of those who went, “disappeared.”   Factors like poor communication systems, distance, and political instability resulted in their extended family being unaware of the outcome of the “going” for generations.    They lived out the words of our Lord, 

^“And everyone who has given up houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or property, for my sake, will receive a hundred times as much in return and will inherit eternal life. (Matthew 19:29.  New Living Translation.)”

Jesus' Great Commission

One of the privileges I had with the nation of Rwanda was being with extended families when those who had left during the Revival grandchildren returned.   It was a privilege to see bzee meet their nieces and nephews of departed brothers and sisters.   The Lord’s words were true.    They had received a hundred times return plus eternal life.   Some of those simple Rwandan missionaries of old were buried in unmarked graves.   They had little power of earth.   Yet, few have their enduring influence.

Another part of my experience with the nation of Rwanda is in my wife, Jana’s childhood in Kenya (1968-89) and our young adult years in Uganda in the 1990’s.    Though some may argue that Rwanda was peaceful in the 1970’s and 80’s not all Rwandans lived in peace.   Political nonsense created refugee living.  

Yet, our experience watched as agaciro (dignity) refused to accept the fate of destitution.

Joseph receive his brothers

  Like Joseph of old, Rwandans excelled.   They were good students.   Farms and businesses that employed Rwandans thrived.

As we were “foreigners” and out of place it was frequently these Rwandan refugees who gave us compassion and wisdom.    They gave key advice came at just the right moment as we pondered new understandings and undertakings.  

Our family was next door in Uganda when the Genocide began.   We initially thought, “Surely not.   This must be an exaggeration.”   Then the bodies began drifting into Lake Victoria.   We did nothing.  My repentance has been a resolve to engage.

From 2005 to 2012 we had the privilege to serve in Rwanda.   We lived during a season that was much like the stories of Judah’s return from Babylonian exile.   

Rwanda Presidential Scholars Graduation 2010

As Ezra taught the law we saw the building of educational institutions.   University attendance boomed to over 72,000 students.    New schools were built.   Scholarship programs thrived.    

With this came a compelling vision and new policy framework.   President Kagame told us, “Others can walk.   We must run.”

Like Nehemiah building the wall of Jerusalem our security in Kigali was excellent.   My beautiful daughters were safe to walk at night.  Roads, infra-structure, schools, churches, hospitals, and businesses were being rapidly built.   

It was a privilege to serve in such a season of hope.

As my family prepared to go into exile as missionaries to America it was the bzee of

Mzee William Rugege

Rwanda who blessed us.    I had the privilege to serve Mzee William Rugege Holy Communion my last Sunday in Rwanda.   As I walked him back to his seat he held me close and whispered God’s blessings in my ear.

As our family has returned to America after 19 years of service in Africa the transition has been overwhelming.   It is the Diaspora who nurtured us.   They have called and asked those simple questions, “How are you?   What can we pray for?”   When we feel at loss we remember we were blessed by Rwandan bzee.   The best advice comes from them.   They tell us heaven is home.   Everything else is temporary.   Yet, while on this earth we must make it as much like heaven as possible.

As many of us at this Prayer Banquet are in exile what should we conclude about our temporary stay?

Have you seen today’s USA Today headline, “Hope Dims for Immigration Bill”? (http://www.usatoday.com/story/news/politics/2014/02/06/boehner-immigration-prospects-dim/5257015/) 

Can you imagine such a headline in New Times?   Can you imagine a Rwanda headline of dimming hope?   Can you imagine a Rwanda that is unable to empathize with those living in exile?  Can you imagine a Rwanda whose leaders don’t open a Bible to see that all who follow Christ are described in terms like “foreigner, alien, and refugee.”?

Our temporary stay in exile is about being missionaries to America.    You see America needs Rwandan missionaries in her midst to become all God intends.   I can quickly find five areas where Rwandan Diaspora must speak to America as missionaries.

Boy Jesus at Temple with Bzee

First, America’s bzee (elders) are lonely.   Few listen to their wisdom.   One joy I have repeatedly seen is Rwanda youth taking the time to listen to American bzee.   Few others do.

Second, in a fast paced America with many To Do lists Rwanda teaches America that children are a blessing.   We have time to be with them.   Their cries in our solemn assemblies are actually the whispers of God that our community is alive.     

Doreen Rwigambo

Third, I believe when we get to heaven we’ll see a Bible where the Lord chooses which language best describes His intent.    When God’s word says, “Made in the image of God,” and English translates the concept as “dignity” God’s full intent will best be said with the Kinyarwanda word, “Agaciro.”    Humanity in creation is full of dignity.   All life is infinitely valuable.    Our human creativity and labor reflect God’s intent from Creation.

Fourth, is Umuganda (community work.)     I live in Chicago.   We’ve had lots of snow.   I can’t believe as I watch elders, widows, and single moms try to shovel out of snow alone.    Umuganda tells me that when our community has a little hiccup of life all of us with some measure of physical strength go outside, pick up a tool, and labor together.    America needs Umuganda.

Kinyarwanda dancing at Prayer Banquet

Lastly, when I was a child in America I remember being told that the nuclear family is the basic social building block of society.     When I arrived in Africa I had a startling realization.   Africa sees the basic social building block to be the extended family.   When I read my Bible I realized Africa was right.   Why do we have all these genealogies if extended family is not how we build society?

In the America I returned to I believe most Americans now see the most basic social building block to be the individual.   In the process America has become a lonely polarized nation.     America needs Rwandan missionaries to teach America about community.

Honorable Ambassador Mathilde Mukantabana

Thank you very much for this opportunity to share my experiences with the fine people of Rwanda.

THERE ARE NO FORGOTTEN BIRTHDAYS

The humble one’s stories are too easily forgotten.    This morning as I checked my Facebook I had 40 friends whose birthday is January First.     On an average day I should have 8 or 9 friends to wish "Happy Birthday."   (3,200 Facebook friends divided by 365 days in a year equals 8.77 friend’s birthdays per day.)    Today, there is a 456% increase in birthday averages.   What is up?

A couple of my Bazungu (white, or those who wander in circles) friends truly know that January 1 is their birthday.    A couple of my friends from Africa who were fortunate to have their mother deliver in a hospital during a day of relative peace truly know that January 1 is their birthday.

Yet, for the majority of my 40 Facebook friends today they were born during a season of absolute chaos.    They were born in places like remote villages, refugee camps, and urban slums.   Their mom was one of the world’s poorest of poor.    She was likely on the run.  Their mom was thankful to have lived through delivery, and today is exceptionally thankful the child born on that day is alive.

These friends of mine share a common past with my boss, Jesus of Nazareth.   He too was born in poverty (Luke 2:1-21).     Stables and mangers in church nativity scenes frequently miss this point.    If you can’t smell the manure your church has understated the chaos of Jesus’ birth.    Jesus was born in forced circumstance as his nation, Judah was under Roman occupation.    His parents were forced to travel near the end of his mom's pregnancy just to register for a census and pay tax.    Forcing a pregnant woman to travel is the height of oppressive government policy.    

These friends of mine likely share another common past with my boss, Jesus of Nazareth.   His family was forced to flee for their safety as refugees (Matthew 2:13-18.)    An evil despot intended to kill all rivals, and that included infant boys in a remote village.     Despots do the same things today.

Where is God in such circumstances?

Paul in describing the riches of knowing Christ tells an unfathomable truth (Ephesians 1.)    Before creation God in His infinite knowledge knew His creation would rebel.     God’s holiness could not dwell with rebellion.    Our rebellion would cause eternal separation from the God of infinite love.     The consequence was as horrific as an infant child abandoned and left to die in a field (Ezekiel 16:4-6.)    God chose to rescue us by sacrificing the life of His own Son.    In the process He took us rebels, and adopted us into His family.    Can you imagine?    He knew every sin we would commit.   He knew the horrific costs.   Yet, He chose to create what He would redeem though sacrifice.    Amazing.  Jesus is Emmanuel, God near and with us.

In the chaos that humanity lives God watches every movement of life.   In God’s eyes there are no forgotten birthdays.  His word states,

“Yet you brought me out of the womb; you made me trust in you, even at my mother’s breast (Psalm 22:9.)”

“For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb (Psalm 139:13.)”

“This is what the LORD says— he who made you, who formed you in the womb, and who will help you: Do not be afraid… whom I have chosen (Isaiah 44:2.)”

“This is what the LORD says— your Redeemer, who formed you in the womb: I am the LORD, the Maker of all things, who stretches out the heavens, who spreads out the earth by myself… (Isaiah 44:24.)”

“Before I was born the LORD called me; from my mother’s womb he has spoken my name. (Isaiah 49:1.)”

“And now the LORD says— he who formed me in the womb to be his servant (Isaiah 49:4.)”

“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; (Jeremiah 1:5.)”

 
In eternity, God will redeem each one of these chaotic births.   In God’s eyes there are no forgotten birthdays.   Yet, we do live in the here and now.   Is there hope in this life for God to bring good out of chaos?

Absolutely.    God is sovereign.   He is good.    He is full of love.  His ways are mysterious.   Yet, His ways are just.    History is full of stories of God bringing good from chaos.

One of the privileges God gave me during my season in Rwanda was to be a facilitator in the Presidential Scholars program.   Facilitator sounds important.   All I did was pragmatically pastor.  I made friends.    I helped friends communicate to one another.    Sometimes it was rather mundane.   One of the mundane moments was filling out visa applications.    The applications required filling out a date of birth.    Many times we wrote in the application January 1, _______.

Most of those bright young Banyarwanda who wrote January 1, ______ were not born on January 1, ______.    Instead they were born during absolute chaos.     All their family can remember is a year filled with turmoil.    In some ways, God has helped them forgive the sources of the chaos, and in the process forget a few details that would even include the month of the birth.   

Rwanda Presidential Scholars at Hendrix College

Yet, something wonderful happened in the years following the traumatic birth.    Enough peace came that a family could survive.    They could put down a root somewhere.    The kids could go to school.    Many times the schools were barely functioning.    Yet, somehow learning happened.    The brightest students found a place of marginal stability and success.    They kept at it for years.    Then they sat their final secondary exam.   They scored near the top of all the students in the nation.     Then they received an opportunity to interview with the different universities offering scholarships.    For some of these bright Banyarwanda, this was the first time they had even been in the capital of Kigali.   If there was no God they would have had no chance.    Yet, there is a God.  He is good.   He enjoys showing His grace upon the most humble.   These kids whose families don’t remember their birthday were offered scholarships to attend prestigious universities in the United States.   God is good.

So today I ask that if you definitely know the day of your birth thank God.    Much of the world does not have that luxury.   If you’re one of those who wrote January 1, _____, but really don’t know; also thank God.   If you meet someone with a January 1, ____ birthday, listen to their story.   Thank God.   He is good.  There are no forgotten birthdays.

BIRTHDAY PRAYER FOR PEACE IN SOUTH SUDAN - Adopted from Peace Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi

Sharing dinner with South Sudanese

The Lord was kind to give our family an extended season in Africa.    Through most of that season Sudan was at war.   Occasionally, South Sudanese would visit our Ugandan church, the Kampala Church of Christ.    Our organization, New Testament Churches of Christ had work in the Kiryandongo Sudanese refugee camp near Hoima.   I had Sudanese students in my classes at Kampala Evangelical School of Theology.

While we were in Rwanda South Sudan became independent.  The war seemed to be over.    Many of us had great hopes for South Sudan.    My business minded friends from Kenya, Rwanda, and Uganda were investing.

As we've moved to the USA with a dream to serve the Diaspora I have heard over and over again from Kenyan, Rwanda, Tanzanian, and Ugandan friends, "We must reach to the South Sudanese.   We can not leave them alone."

A few weeks ago shocking news began coming from South Sudan.   Some worry that a civil war is possible.

Tonight we had a few South Sudanese in our home for dinner.   On my birthday, tomorrow I will preach from Psalm 147, an Exilic Psalm in a South Sudanese church.   Yet, our Sudanese brothers stopped this evening to bless our family's home.   It was humbling.  (ABA = Africa Blesses Again.)

Each year I ask for my friends and family to join in a prayer for a specific matter on my birthday.   On my 47th birthday I request you join in praying the Peace Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi for South Sudan.
 

 

Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace;

Where there is hatred, let me sow love;

Where there is injury, pardon;

Where there is error, truth;

Where there is doubt, faith;

Where there is despair, hope;

Where there is darkness, light;

And where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master, Grant that I may not so much seek

To be consoled as to console;

To be understood as to understand;

To be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive;

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;

And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

SOMALI TRANSPORTER RESCUES MBALE TRADER

Have you heard the latest news? A Mbale trader, Samson Wesonga was ambushed by 6 thugs on the Jinja – Kampala Road on Tuesday, April 1. The ambush took place at mid-day with in the Mabira forest. According to Wesonga, the thugs had placed a tree across the road, and when he slowed down to stop, they way laid him at gunpoint. Then they beat him severely, stripped him naked, and left him for dead.

The thugs took Wesonga’s Nissan pickup UAB 272M, 10 boxes of Blue Band, 5 boxes of Kimbo shortening, 300 kilos of posho, and 2.6 million Uganda shillings.

Wesonga came in and out of consciousness several times until his rescue, and reported several travelers who stopped to observe his condition.

The first was Jim Bob Allister, missionary for the Evangelical Missions Alliance. Allister was driving a Toyota Hi-Lux pick-up.

“I thought I was saved,” reported Wesonga. “Everyone knows Bazungu have lots of money, and are such kind people. The Muzungu greeted me with ‘Jambo, rafiki. Habari?’ When I tried to explain my condition in Kiswahili he called his translator. Then I heard him say ‘Time is money. I have an important meeting with our mission board, and can not be late.’ Then he drove off.

The next to stop was Apostle Bernard Okidi with the Divine Church of Deliverance and Healing. Okidi was traveling in a Toyota Hi-Ace with a group of Christians going to attend a crusade.

Wesonga reports, “Again, I thought I was saved. Surely, a group of Balokole would help me. They are the chosen people of God.”

Again Wesonga was disappointed. Okidi reportedly called for God to heal Wesonga. When there was apparently no response from God Okidi remarked, “Brother, you do not have enough faith to be healed. I must wipe the dust off of my feet from you, and move on to our crusade where people do have the faith to be healed.”

The next time Wesonga awoke there was a leader from one of Uganda’s traditional churches.

“I was too delirious to get this man’s details,” reported Wesonga. “All I can remember is robes and religious babble. As he drove off in his Pajero I heard him say, ‘We don’t know who this man is. He could be a rebel or escaped prisoner. We can not jeopardize our good standing by getting involved with this type of man.’”

Finally, Somali transporter, Abdu Mohamed, rescued Wesonga. Mohamed was driving a Shell

Petrol lorry, UAB 573N.


“I didn’t know what to expect when the Somali pulled over to the side of the road,” reported Wesonga. “I was too weak and tired to be scared. I thought maybe he was an angel coming to take me to heaven.”

Mohamed quickly had his turn boy, Nyusef Abdullah, begin cutting branches to alert other travelers of the accident. As Abdullah was alerting others, Mohamed got the first aid box from his lorry and begin applying bandages and ointment. He also gave Wesonga a slice of bread and some water. Then Mohamed and Abdullah carried Wesonga to their lorry, and transported him to the Kawolo, Lugazi hospital. Abdullah rode on the top of the lorry so that Wesonga would have room to rest comfortably on the trip.

At the Kawolo, Lugazi hospital Wesonga was given 34 stitches for 3 lacerations on his head. Also, a broken right arm was set. While in Lugazi, Mohamed reported the crime to the police. He also placed a phone call to Wesonga’s family in Mbale to notify them of his condition. Mohamed stayed the remainder of the day in Lugazi with Wesonga, and then paid his bill of 122,000 shillings as he was released from the hospital that evening.

Mohamed then transported Wesonga to Mukono where he put him up in Collines Hotel. He left a deposit of 300,000 Uganda shillings with the management. He instructed the hotel to care for Wesonga until he returned from Kampala on Friday, April 4. Mohamed plans to transport Wesonga home to Mbale on his return trip to Mombassa next week.

In related news police spokesmen, have asked for the public to help in locating Wesonga’s Nissan pickup, UAB 272M. They also caution travelers to exercise caution when they approach non-police or UPDF roadblocks. They promise to apprehend the thugs who robbed Wesonga, and bring them to swift justice.

The N.G.O. Board of the Ministry of Internal Affairs has promised to investigate the Evangelical Missions Alliance and Divine Church of Healing and Deliverance. “We need more men like Mohamed in this country, and less of these phony N.G.O.’s,” they said.

Shell Uganda Management has nominated Abdu Mohamed for the Shell World Citizen award. They have also re-imbursed him for the expenses in aiding Wesonga. Management said, “Mohamed is typical of Shell employees who are driving Uganda into the 21st Century.”

When interviewed Mohamed was asked why he chose to help Wesonga. He humbly replied, “What else could I do? As I have traveled I have learned that all men are my neighbors.”

For further information on this interesting piece of news from Uganda check out the original source (Luke 10:25-37.)  His name is Jesus of Nazareth. He told this story to illustrate the failings of law keeping without compassion for all people. A doctor named Luke recorded it in a historical dissertation approximately 2,000 years ago.

“WHAT DO YOU CALL A 14 YEAR OLD WITH AN AK47?’ COMPARING NOTES ON “BLACK HAWK DOWN” AND “CAPTAIN PHILLIPS:

For those graced to live in some portions of the world where security can be a daily concern a little humor is part of the survival instinct.

“What do you call a 14 year old with an AK47?”

“Sir.”

Laughter gets us through the uncomfortable moment.     We make friends who whisper to us how to stay safe.    We stay current in the media.    We employ a guard.    We have a fence and a gate.

Yet, sometimes the humor is no longer funny.   I don’t giggle anymore at children engaged in violence.

I’ve watched both “Black Hawk Down,” and “Captain Phillips.”   I saw “Black Hawk Down” in Uganda with a Somali crowd.   I saw, “Captain Phillips” in Chicago, USA with a very different crowd.   Context determines interpretation.

I was in East Africa when the events of both movies happened.      Yet, I was a safe distance from

Growing up in Uganda with my sons, Caleb and Ethan

Somalia.

However, I was not a safe distance from the terrorist activities or recruitment.

Al Shabaab has executed three terrorist actions in places I’ve frequented.    Two occurred on July 11, 2010 at the Ethiopian Village and Kyadondo Rugby Club in Kampala, Uganda.   Another occurred on September 21, 2013 at the Westgate Mall in Nairobi, Kenya.   This could have been me.   It could have been my neighbors, family, and friends who were killed.   Though no one I knew was killed I know people in grief (http://www.jenkinsinrwanda.blogspot.com/2013/10/why-is-westgate-tragedy-so-troubling.html.) 

Al Shabaab claims the terrorists have roots in Minnesota and Illinois.   It is easy to find many articles over the last few years of Al Shabaab’s recruitment.   It haunts me to consider that the terrorists could have also been my neighbors.

In 1992 Jana and I were in high gear to discover funds to go to Uganda as missionaries.   The American context at the time was celebrating the downfall of the Iron Curtain and victory in the First Gulf War.    The national mood in both politics and religion was that we were entering “The Beginning of a New World Order.”

We entered Uganda in March 1993.    At about the same time Operation Restore Hope was engaged in food relief and military protection in Somalia.    Things were not going as expected.   Mission creep was beginning.   

I remember reading a startling commentary in The East African on Operation Restore Hope.   I cannot remember who wrote it.   Nor can I find an original copy so my memory may be off a bit.    What I strongly remember was how the analysis shocked my naïve altruism.    The commentator predicted that the initial waves of American aid would be greeted with warmth and photo opportunities.   Then the aid would create a bonanza of economic opportunities that would reignite militia activity.   The American military would engage the militias.   The militias would create a media moment similar to the Vietnam War in which the American public would see the horrors of war with an unclear objective.   Shortly after the loss of American military lives America would retreat from Somalia.    The commentary was prophetic.

The unpredicted consequences of the Black Hawk Down on October 3 and 4 1993 included an America government unwilling to attempt to stop the Genocide in Rwanda in 1994, and the release of the movie, “Black Hawk Down” in 2001.   

  Both are personal.   

 I didn’t want to see my US Marine Corp brother engaged in Rwanda’s conflict.   I didn’t think the American government would be able to sort through the complications and keep both the Rwandan people and American soldiers safe.    I’m still troubled in many ways by my lack of actions from April 7 to July 4, 1994.  I’m thankful God gave me the grace to serve with Rwandan friends there 7 years.

I also watched “Black Hawk Down” in a Kampala, Uganda movie theater with a Somali crowd.

One of the consequences of Somalia’s chaos was a drifting of Somali people into other places in East Africa.    Some drifted as refugees.   Others seemed to find a few relatives, connections, documents, and business opportunities.   During our time in Uganda there was a slow increase in the Somali community.    Most of the Ugandans I knew did not trust the Somali.

One Ugandan cultural advisor once noticed me doing a repair with hunting knife, and told me, “Stop.   You look like a Somali.”

Another time our radio show did a modern recreation of the Good Samaritan with Somali hero.   Callers were astounded.   Several remarked, “Somalis aren’t good people.”

I remember Somali people being kind to me.   I also remember being creeped out by Somali stares.   I absorbed regional prejudice, and still cannot think of a single Somali friend.

The Uganda I knew was one of rapid development.    We finally had a great movie theatre with air conditioning, first run movies, and popcorn.   We went to the movies to unwind.   I was really curious how I would see “Black Hawk Down” in Uganda.

As we entered the theatre Jana and I sat in the best seats we could find - roughly in the middle.   A Somali crowd sat to our right.   A large Ugandan crowd sat to our left.

During the season we were in Uganda generally Americans were seen with favor.

The crowd approached Black Hawk Down as they approached fan participation at a soccer (football) game.   With each Somali killed the Ugandan crowd cheered.   With each American killed in the Somali crowd cheered.   I sat quietly hoping no one would notice my presence.   I did not unwind in “Black Hawk Down.”   The empathies of the crowd and myself were overwhelming.

The crowd left as the movie finished.   We were some of the last to leave.

For a moment I had the strange expectation that I would step out into the parking lot of a suburban American mall.    I only would be in this exotic historical movie for about two hours.     

Instead I stepped out into dirty Kampala street filled with kavera (plastic bags), the smell of sewage and cooking food, abundant street vendors, and a crowd that I suspect included a few pick pockets.    I was back home.   I was in a land I loved.    The exotic was rather ordinary for me.    Yet, I was troubled by the Somali response and not sure what I should do. 

This past Sunday evening Jana and I went to the movies.   The most convenient and interesting one was “Captain Phillips.”

I almost didn’t go.   Westgate troubles me.   I’m struggling with the strange place of faith balancing justice and mercy.    I worried I’d become so angry I couldn’t function.     I worried my empathies bordering on hatred for the Somali would increase.   After all Al Shabaab has three times attacked places I’ve frequented, and the middle class people with whom I have been privileged to serve.

There are many good reviews of “Captain Phillips.”   I offer no new review.    Yet, one phrase in the movie troubled me, “We’re not Al Qaeda.   We’re business.”    I know violent nonsense is a likely consequence when schools and economic opportunities don’t exist.     The hostage situation on the Alabama Maersk happened in April 2009, sixteen years after The East African commentary, Operation Restore Hope, and Black Hawk Down.    Politics and religion play out in nonsense.    Individuals make choices that require the accountability of justice.    Yet, chaos in Somalia has had dire consequences on my community both a near and far.   It is time to do something enduring.

Two, I googled to find out what happened to the kidnapper who survived, Abduwali Abdukhadir

Abduwali Abdukhadir Muse, arriving in the USA for trial

Muse.   He has been sentenced to 33 years in USA Federal Prison in Terre Haute, Indiana (a 3 hour and 42 minute drive from my Chicago home.)   He stands 5 feet 4 inches (1.6256 meters) in height.  There is some discussion about his age.   Most of the estimates put him somewhere between 16 and 19 years old in 2009 when the hostages were taken on the Alabama Maersk.   The legal implications of his date of birth are immense, but practically he was probably born in such chaos no one really knows his age.    His whole life has been spent in the wake of The East African prophecy.

 My own sons are that age.    I’ve spent lots of times with East African youth that age.    Young people around the world make poor choices.   Abduwali Abdukhadir Muse could have easily been a neighbor or friend’s son if not my own son.

“What do you call a 14 year old with an AK 47?”

“Son, brother, neighbor, and friend.”