But this is important.
Back in November I wrote about my anger and bitterness and disillusionment with Ugandan politics. I wrote about my trepidation over the impending election--which went down in February with, no surprise, President Museveni winning. I wrote about how shadowy, back-room corruption results in very real spilled blood. And do you know how badly I wanted to be proven wrong? To go back and read that and think, "Oh man, I was jumping to conclusions there! I was just over-emotional...thinking the worst...predicting a storm when there was just a rumor of a cloud!" I hoped beyond hope that I would be mistaken.
But then I saw this, and my heart sank. Museveni won, as expected. People weren't happy, as expected. Protests started, as expected. And people died. As expected.
In November, I watched Sometimes In April with my sister Hedwig and cried and cried, looking into the actors' faces and just imagining my Rwandan friends' eyes filled with the same fear, 17 years ago. But now, I can't even really cry, because any sorrow I feel is swallowed up in this intense, shaky feeling of "Oh no" that's rattling in my chest. I'm not watching a movie with Hedwig. I'm watching Hedwig.
This video is smack-dab in Gulu-town. That's Norbert Mao, one of the former presidential candidates and the district chairman of Gulu, being arrested seriously a street away from where I lived at my Momma's shop. Sometimes in April looked familiar, but I rested in the fact that its plot-line is over and done; there are no roadblocks and machetes in present-day Kigali. But the Gulu in the video is the same Gulu where I left bits of my heart last semester. Within a block of where Norbert Mao was arrested, is where my boda-driver friend, Kenneth, parks his bike...where my breakdancing boy, Bernard, watches the sun rise sitting on his roof...where my Momma sits outside all day and drinks tea... Those gunshots were heard by my neighbors--by Tata Arnold and Baby Eva, by Paul Agape and Winney.
I can't tell you how this breaks my heart.
I want so desperately to drop what I'm doing (studying for finals?) and run to Gulu. Of course, I wouldn't be of any use there: I can't stop that violence and unrest with my 5'0, white-girl presence.
But I really want to hold my Momma's hand. I want to give Kenneth the hug I never gave him. I want to watch over my little sister Mercy when she's walking to the market. And I want to squeeze Hedwig hard when she tells me (since I know she would) that God's working everything--even this--together for good.
But what can I do? Really, all I can do is pray. I know that God is infinitely more upset than I am about the injustice in Uganda. He is infinitely more grieved over the people who were killed, and the families that cried, and the hearts that are swimming in fear. More than that--He is infinitely powerful. He can fix this. He can change this. He can heal this. I'm really sad, and really scared--but I trust Him.
It comforts me to think about Good Friday--and how the disciples must have felt when Jesus was crucified. Like, they watched all their Hope literally die; they buried all the Good that was in the world. They saw evil win and darkness cover their land. That night, their lives must have imploded. I can only imagine the rattling in their chests.
Yet. God knew what He was doing. He knew that after the night, the morning would come. He knew that on the other side of death and pain and tears and agony and wickedness, there was life. So I find comfort in the fact that I am only a short-sighted disciple waiting through a dark night.
God is good, and He listens to prayers for peace. I believe it.
Pray with me?
"So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal...And let us run the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart."
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