My Memory of the Simba Rebellion in the Congo, from Cameroun.
When I was seven and in boarding school in The Dorm, the dorm parents would have picnics every friday evening, outside, for all of us 49 dorm kids. There would be dessert for the meal which, during the weekdays, there was not. After these outdoor picnics, oftentimes we would gather in the Dorm living room for games and songs and, every once in a long while, a reel-to-reel movie. I saw “Lawrence of Arabia” that way – bored to tears – I thought that movie would never end!
But one weekend it was different. We got called into the living room on Saturday evening, instead of Friday, and our dorm parents were sober-faced.
They told us that, down the road, in the Congo, many outreachers were being taken hostage and were in danger of being killed, by a group of people called the Simba Army. They said that a medical doctor outreacher, whose name was Dr. Paul White, had been murdered a few days before – the telegram had just come telling the horrible news. Other people were getting killed as well. We 49 kids were very sad. We all were asked by our dorm parents to bow our heads and join in prayer for the safety and the rescue of all of our fellow outreachers that had not yet gotten killed, and all of their children, around our own ages, a hop, skip and a jump down the roads from Elat, Cameroun where we sat in our Dorm.
We did that.
Several years later, when I was a teenager, I found myself in another dorm IN the Congo, and many of my best friends were the very children, now turned teenagers also, for whom we had prayed that Saturday evening at Elat. Now, forty years later, many of us former children have found each other and are in contact once again with one another, sharing our continuing stories and lives, one with another. I hope some of us are still praying one for another, as well.