To Release the Oppressed

 “There is one. There is another. See all of the girls lined up on the side? They are getting paid about 50 cents a trick. Some areas pay as high as $15 a trick, but not much more than that,” Cherry shares with me as she gives me a dangerous night tour of the prostitution scene in Addis.  “Look, David, see that boy chasing the girl! She is running to the police stationfor protection. The boys are free to abuse the girls on the street. That is just how it is out here.”

            “For the last 15 years you have run Women at Risk and taken in these women to rehabilitate them. How did you come to have such a heart for the prostitutes?” I ask Cherry. 

“I grew up in Ethiopia and have seen these women on the street ever since I can remember.  I was raised in a Christian home and watched my Christian friends and family give little or no attention to the girls. They are not just outcasts in society; they are outcasts in the church. I just got tired of watching them be ignored, and so I began to build friendships with them, and what I discovered is that they are crying out for help. They want out, but are not sure how.  They want to be set free, but are not sure how to be released.”

           Cherry drives me through the most dangerous street in the city. The dim streetlights cast a hazy, yellow glow on the hollow eyes of the women, and the dark alleys lead into a hopeless abyss. Countless bodies of homeless men, women and children pile up on both sides of the street. Every ten yards there is lonely prostitute, waiting to see if she is going to make any money to feed herself or her children. I have never seen so many social outcasts or felt such destitution…I bet if Jesus visited Addis, I would find him here.

           Jesus restoring dignity to the woman at the well, and God redeeming Rahab the prostitute, has taken on a new meaning for me. When Jesus encountered the sick girl and said, “She is asleep, not dead,” the crowed laughed at him, for they thought she was dead and beyond help. Then he touched her, and her life was restored.   Whether it was the Pharisees of the past or the Pharisees of today, those who study religious law often declare prostitutes and others bound by sinful patterns to be beyond intervention. They are declared to be dirty and unworthy of entering the house of God. Maybe that is why Jesus had to go to the well to meet her. Maybe that is why those of us who call ourselves Christians need to reconsider whom we are called to serve. For it was Jesus who said that he was called to, “Preach good news to the poor, proclaim freedom for the prisoners, recovery of sight to the blind, and to release the oppressed.” Luke 4:18-19.

Educating Girls

Education is a needed foundation to the success of any culture. Like many cultures, women in developing countries are responsible for the education of the children. So when a woman is deprived of an education, it can have generational consequences. Educating girls can be one of the most effective ways to positively impact communities and even countries. As former United Nations Secretary-General, Kofi Annan said, “Educating girls is not an option, it is a necessity.” For a variety of reasons, girls in developing countries are often left behind as their brothers go to school. One of the reasons is the expense of educating the girls, but not educating girls can prove to be even more costly to the family and community. David Bloom, an economics professor at Harvard states, “Girls’ education is now recognized as a cornerstone of development. Educated mothers invest more in their children’s schooling, thus improving both families’ and societies’ development prospects. Educated mothers provide better nutrition to their children, too, and their knowledge of health risks protects their families against illness and promotes health-seeking behavior more generally.” Due to the economic and social stresses, promoting girls education is not always easy and involves many levels of intervention. Businesses, educators, religious leaders, and the government need to support the movement and lead the reformation of education within the country.

Where is the Solidarity?

A few of us were granted a three hour private meeting with a top general of the Southern Sudanese army. To protect him, I will simply refer to him as “The General.”

When The General walked in, we all stood in honor of his position and his accomplishments on the battlefront. He greeted us with a smile and a handshake, adding a gentle and personal touch to his powerful and authoritative presence.

After a few casual comments, his conversation steered us into the complexities of Sudan and the horrific realities of the Kartoum government. As I sipped on the cold Coke brought in by one of his soldiers, I choked on the gruesome details of persecution.

"How can we help?" I asked him. As long as I live, I will never forget two quotes that came from The General's mouth.

"We recognize that America is in the same trench as Sudan, fighting terrorism. However, I am not sure why many Americans do not recognize this. We see Islamic solidarity, but where is the Christian solidarity? We see Christians come here for a short time and then leave. We see them wear their big crosses around their necks and then leave us a small box of expired medicines. We do not need you to fight this war for us, but we do need a place to rest our wounded and enough fuel in our trucks and tanks to fight this war. We are fighting the same war you Americans are fighting. We will never surrender. We are fighting for survival, dignity and freedom."

I was embarrassed at his comments. I was embarrassed for myself and every other Christian who has worn "The Cross" around his neck only to turn his back to those who are pleading for help. Why is there no solidarity? Are we too busy fighting over doctrine and dividing our churches? Are we too busy insulating ourselves from any pain or suffering to where we can no longer relate? Are we racist and view the Sudanese as unworthy of our best? Have we forgotten what Christ calls us to be? Are we only willing to go to church and our Bible studies to learn more but implement less? I feel sorry for the next church on my speaking schedule.

His next quote....
"You Americans are very good at propaganda. However, propaganda with no action only makes our situation worse. Propaganda is easy, but our situation in Sudan is very complicated. We are afraid that once people get confused they will get bored and turn the station."

I thought of all of the ways that we wave the banners of "Save Darfur." We wear shirts and bracelets and join our clubs. This all looks very good and may relieve us of some guilt, but have we really tried to understand or help their situation? Once we know of the atrocities in southern Sudan and Darfur, what are we going to DO? Are we going to start to look for organizations who need money to build hospitals or schools in Sudan? Are we going to put more pressure on the U.S. and China to consider their policies toward Sudan. Have we written our local news stations or newspapers and insisted that they cover Sudan more closely? The tsunami and Katrina were easy to respond to because they were not complicated issues. There were people in need and we responded in huge ways. Do complicated issues really inhibit our willingness to help? Do we really grow bored at the issues that we do not, or choose not, to understand?

Freedom

William Wallace, Martin Luther King, Jesus, and thousands of American soldiers died for it. Yet, how often do we consider what it is? We use the word to justify our destructive behavior, yet how much do we really appreciate what it offers?
A recurring theme throughout my two weeks in southern Sudan and Darfur was freedom. Soldiers told me they would die for it, and mothers told me they run with their children in search of it. I walked into the bush in Darfur and met families gathered under trees with absolutely nothing.
“Why are you here?” I would ask them.
“Because our village was attacked and here we are safe and free.
“You have nothing though?”
“We have our freedom. We have two choices. Either become a Muslim and embrace all that the government stands for, or run and be free. I would die for this freedom.”

There are many heroes in this quest for freedom, but none as courageous as the women. They seem to recognize the generational impact of freedom. The women often appear to be fighting alone, isolated in the camp or gathered under trees with other mothers. Yet their fight is not for themselves, their fight is for their children and the next generation.

I turn to a woman named Mahka.(pictured above) “You are Muslim, right?”
“Yep.”
“Then why was your family attacked? Why do you now have to live under this tree?”
She points to her left arm and pinches her skin, “Because I am black.” She then focuses her eyes on the dirt around her sandals, periodically glancing at the others in the circle as they share their stories.

And so their villages are attacked and the people are slaughtered. The survivors run and run until the gun shots can no longer be heard. Many of them find themselves surrounded by thousands of others on a similar pursuit. I once believed that they were running from fear, but I now understand that they are running for freedom.