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Not long ago, I was contacted by a representative from Médecins Sans Frontières, or Doctors Without Borders, who pointed me to Condition: Critical, an online project that seeks to give voice to victims of violence in Congo. I've written about the situation in Congo here previously; New York Times East Africa bureau chief Jeffrey Gettleman has done an amazing job of chronicling the atrocities and their aftermath in a civil war-torn country where rape is used as a war tactic. "According to the United Nations," Gettleman reported, "27,000 sexual assaults were reported in 2006 in South Kivu Province
alone, and that may be just a fraction of the total number across the
country."
Condition: Critical looks to bridge the gap between Congo and the outside world with testimonies, videos, and photographs focusing on Congolese women who are victims of sexual violence, who emerge from the jungle after being kidnapped, raped, and enslaved by soldiers, who in some cases are unable to speak. Gettleman: "Many have been so sadistically attacked from the inside out, butchered
by bayonets and assaulted with chunks of wood, that their reproductive
and digestive systems are beyond repair."
A 45-year-old widow called "L." was raped by two armed men, an attack that left her pregnant, suicidal, and an outcast.
L. gave birth to her child today. Her mother was at the hospital for
the delivery. But her father in-law refused to visit her. “The family
has rejected me,” explains L. “I cannot live with them anymore. A
neighbour has taken me in, and that’s where I stay now. I still need
support. I have been stigmatised and rejected by my family, by some of
my children and by my community. 'A widow who gives birth at her age,
it’s shameful,' that’s what they say about me."
"My two elder sons have been with the military service for a long
time. Another one lives in the street and when he heard that I was
pregnant, he sent death threats to the baby and me. He said that he
would kill both of us if I gave birth to a boy who could claim fields
for himself later on.”
Today, L. holds a little girl in her arms. She is breastfeeding her.
“This child has no problems. I must accept her, welcome her and take
care of her. My daughter is innocent and today I look at her as a
mother. We must stick together. I’ll go back to my village soon. I’ll
continue to stay with my neighbour. I’ll have to carry goods for people
to earn a bit of money because my family-in-law won’t let me work in
the fields any longer."
"I would like to have my own house one day, from where no one can drive my daughter and I.”
[Condition: Critical]
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