domingo, outubro 06, 2013

Trail Congo

The death last week of at least 111 African refugees , who set out to sea towards a better life and wrecked in southern Italy , is a story that repeats predictably abysmal . As predictable as the mourning of the pope , the outrage of the human rights community and - past the initial thud - the indifference of the rest .
Are 31,000 illegal immigrants who arrived just in Italy this year, half of which will be returned to their countries of origin. And they are , for living , the lucky ones . For some , the story of Ornela Mbenga could have ended well . But because God is African , with safe passage Brazilian also the outcome of their passage through the hell of forced migration is yet to be written .
At first glance , the 23 year old Congolese and frank laugh hardly fits the profile of the victim . Sociable and multilingual within months she managed the Brazil housing and jobs receptionist in the Technological Park of the Federal University of Rio de Janeiro . But to get here , had to trick the devil.
Born in Walikale , eastern Democratic Republic of Congo , Ornela led a comfortable middle-class life . His father was teaching math while her mother took care of the house and the two sisters. Ornela was studying journalism and worked at the front desk of a bank . A good life despite the civil war that simmered in the country for two decades .
His life changed one morning in 2011 when the rebels invaded the city . At the bank, Ornela it took to realize the confusion . The thuds of possible shots were part of life in that country loaf , disputed inch by inch by troops of President Joseph Kabila and the Hutu militia , which has ties to the genocidal massacre of neighboring Rwanda. Ornela only understood the danger that afternoon when he saw his house on fire , looted their neighborhood and their neighbors on the run . Ornela followed the exodus, with clothes on and the equivalent of U.S. $ 200 in the pocket. Did not see her family , she was supposed to have been killed in the assault . For two weeks , managed to evade the guerrillas once playing on the floor and messing up the blood of a dead man to outwit the executioners . Helpless , eventually captured and taken to a rebel camp in Tanzania , where he worked hauling water gunpoint rifle .
In a country of 3 million refugees , the story is familiar. Surprising was the shift that took its plot . In the ebb and flow of the water well , Ornela met a fisherman who was moved by his story and engineered his escape . One night , she jumped the fence of the camp and ran to the harbor, where a sailor friend hid in the basement of a freighter . There was , in the trash enclosure , with a prayer on his head and a bag of peanuts in his hand , not knowing where he was going .
Two weeks later , the ship docked at Santos . Ornela recognized the language - his family lived one year in Angola - and asked for help . The owner of a bar fed her and called a college Angolan , who welcomed her . Weeks later , Ornela arrived in Rio and , shortly after , got the spot in the Technology Park .
The " guardian angels " who helped on the trail left behind . The surprises do not. One day , on duty, the phone rang and listening to the first syllables chiadas - " my daughter ? " - Ornela burst into tears . His mother was alive and found it through an uncle who bumped on your Facebook page .
Today , Ornela saves power to be reunited with his family , who emigrated to the United States by Senegal . In Vakinha , site donations from friends , she asks for help to buy a ticket to Chicago. Nothing much , just another story of a refugee - only this time told in the first person .
10/06/2013

Nenhum comentário:

Postar um comentário