Anna’s Story-
Anna, her husband, and their six
children fled from the DRC. She was born there and was a teacher there. She
fell in love with her husband, but that love came with a price. You see, Henri
was from the Tutsi tribe who fled Rwanda during the genocide. He was a small
child and doesn’t know anything about Rwanda personally, what only his
parents told him.
Being a Tutsi in the DRC did not
mean he wouldn’t be tracked and persecuted. Everywhere he and his parents went,
the people of DRC found them. Even after marrying a Congolese woman, the fear
did not abate. Finally, in their last year in the DRC, Anna and Henri had to keep
moving from city to village to bush to stay ahead of their hunters. They were
caught a couple times, but managed to escape.
How did the people recognize Henri
was a Tutsi? There’s a myth that you can tell by the ankle bones. It’s not
truth; that’s why we call it a myth. Still, when people get it into their heads,
that someone is a Tutsi or a Hutu or a Somalian, or whatever they hate or fear,
they will hunt you down. At least that’s the way it is for Anna and Henri.
After being chased for so many
years, being caught a few times and escaping, they decided to make their “great
escape” to South Africa with their six children. They came with hopes and
dreams of freedom from fear and income to support their family. They had no
idea the prejudice they would experience in Africa’s “most democratic country.”
After arriving in South Africa,
Anna became pregnant two more times and each of those babies were delivered by Caesarian section. I have known Anna since before her last child was born 3
years ago. I met her in March 2014. She supports her family by buying large
bags of dry goods and selling them in individual packets at the train station.
The school-age children get a free lunch at school, so Anna works to pay
rent for the one room in which they live. There are more people than floor space in
that room, so she is grateful for the small balcony. Some of her children sleep outside, which was fine except for when the rainy, windy winters
arrive. Still, one room often is more than she can afford along with
providing one more meal a day.
The day I visited her room, she had
just had her last child by C-section. She sat crying in her seat with the
baby at her breast. Understand, we had just walked in carrying one month’s
supply of food to feed each person in the family 3 meals a day. I asked her why
she was crying. She said that morning the children fought over one spoon of
oats. That was all they had. Her husband had turned to her and asked her, “What
will we do?” Anna said, “God will provide.” Little did she know God already had a plan. Just a couple
hours later God would send food for her family for 6 months knowing beforehand she was
going to run out of food that day. Christians carried armload after armload of food in boxes of food up three flights of stairs. She just shook and bowed her head as tears
streamed down her cheeks.
That little bundle of joy, her
eighth, is the last child she has birthed. For three years she has been in
great pain in her abdomen. She has been to multiple clinic doctors. Some refused
to see her because she is an asylum-seeker. Others would see her, give her Panado
(aspirin) and tell her to go away. This week she tells me this story and I am
angry again at the prejudiced government doctors. This is not a rare
occurrence. I’ve had to intervene for several of my refugee friends. What makes
this one different is that Anna and Henri borrowed money so she could pay for a
doctor in private practice in the poor area of the city in which they rent a
room. What did this doctor say? He said she has a “dead womb.” I looked quizzically
at her and asked her to repeat that, but I had heard right, a "dead womb."
I planned to talk to my personal GP
quickly. I told her about Anna. Her eyebrow rose, and she said, “Say that again.”
I told her the doctor said she had a “dead womb.” My doctor said, “That isn’t even
a medical term.” I asked my doctor, “Would you see her please?” “Yes,” she
said.
Even when refugees go to new
countries with supposed freedom that offers hope after desperation and fear,
prejudice abounds, lives are endangered, and people are cast aside. But God… We
must remember that small conjunctive phrase. But God knew Anna would need a
personal, professional, non-prejudiced doctor and He created a loving, obedient
heart in my doctor. But God provided a listening ear and concerned heart in me
(in each of you) so that we immediately look for help for our refugee friends.
For God… so loved the world… You know the rest.
Next week Anna will see my doctor. She
will get a referral to a specialist. Anna will experience acceptance and care.
She will realize there’s a reason to still have hope in her new adopted
country. God still cares for Anna, Henri, and their eight children and He has
prepared a way for her to get the healthcare she needs right now.
