By Sr. Juana Ma. Rivera, OSB
THE BENEDICTINE SISTERS have two foundations in Angola: One in Luanda and one in Menongue. The one in Menongue has a clinic where Sr. Juana Ma. Rivera, OSB found herself in the middle of civil war between the Angolan government and the Unita Rebels.
So bad was our situation that I thought I would never see my native land, the Philippines, again nor could I even imagine being at home for Christmas, united with my Sisters and with my family. But the grace of God gave us the courage to face the horrible bombings and made us persevere in our mission with the Angolan people as we tried to give hope to the hopeless, I can’t find the words to describe what we underwent during the nine months if isolation, but I will try to remember what and how it happened.
One night in Menongue we were awakened by loud explosion, shots and bombings. Trembling with fear Sr. Monika, the aspirants and I gathered together. Looking out of the windows we saw flashes in different directions. This was the sign that war had broken out between the two opposing forces the UNITA (the rebels) and the MPLA government forces. That very night the UNITA soldiers were moving put of Menongue and the MPLA government soldier were pursuing them with bombs. The government soldiers were ransacking the buildings and looting all the properties of the UNITAS and even burning them. The people were confused about what to do. Many left their houses to live in far distant farms. Many went to9 the bush. Families were separated from one another. The United Nations people were soon airlifted out leaving all their cars and belongings while other neighboring their families also took refuge with us.
For months we became a sanctuary and we opened the underground area of our house so that we could shelter around a hundred people (women and children). This building is where Sr. Monika, the aspirants and I were staying while the other house, the convent, is where our Sr. Mechtild, Sr. Geny and the Portuguese families and some other refugees were staying. We even extended our help to the only doctor of Menongue. All the foreign doctors and foreign health organization were already out of Menongue by December.
Then the prison cells were filled with political prisoners and Sr. Geny had to help them; they where sick, hungry and sometimes unjustly accused. The bishops started buying crops like cassava, corn, massango. He bartered then for clothes and soap to help those who were now suffering from hunger. Four or five months passed and people began to get very hungry. The crops became scarce and almost all the poor were coming to our house also the very sick and dying. The doctor and Sr. Mechtild organized help amidst the bombings.
Bombs continued to droop killing many people, both military and civilians but our house was always spared. Tanks and cannons were also on the move. For months we always had exposition and adoration of the Blessed Sacrament at 3 o’clock in the afternoon. Many times we had to drive under the church benches or lie on the floor as the bombs were falling nearby. Shrapnels will either kill you instantly or make you suffer by staying inside you body because there is no surgeon available. Because of hunger, women and children went to far distant farms risking their lives to barter whatever they had for food. Many of them did not return anymore because of landmines or they came home mutilated by those landmines.
For us, sisters, to feel around 60 to 80 people we had to bartered all our clothes from packages, all our bedsheets and whatever we had just to have some supply of corn flour or cassava flour “fundje” which we ate day in, day out. For viands we gathered the green leaves and leaves which could be eaten since out vegetable garden was not producing enough to feed us all. Our rice in stock was only for Sunday and big feasts. By the month of July, our chicken started to lay eggs but they were too few and too small because we had nothing to feed then. Rats became precious costing from 8 – 15,000 kwanzas depending upon the size.
If I remember right by July, parachutes were beginning to appear in the skies to bring food and ammunitions not to us but to the soldiers. Childrens at the hospitals were now starting to die in their last stages of malnutrition; streets children could not walk anymore because of bloated stomach, face, hands, legs. Ten to thirty children were dying everyday and Sr. Mechtild had to ask food from the military so that we could make a soup once a day for the children. Landmine victims and war victims were increasing in numbers at the hospital just as the adults were also starting to be bloated.
We did not lose hope but continued to pray harder. Church goers began increasing in numbers. We continued to teach catechism. We even had weddings (for the first time after ten years), Baptism, First Communions and Confirmations.
Everyone got so accustomed to the bombs so that many did not hide anymore in their shelter and would just say “Let’s just wait for our time”. I became courageous, too. I could say “If it’s my time then.... “I escaped death twice. Once was during an attach when a stray bullet passed through the wall of my room and ricocheted back to the other wall then landed near my cross on the night table beside my head. The second occasion was when we had house to house prayer service with the youth and their families. On my way home I was crossing the bridge when the soldiers begun shooting at a man on a bicycle who was almost beside me. So I just lay down on the pavement with head as low as possible, then I ran for all I was worth, my heart pounding hard in my chest.
All men aged 15 and above were forced to do military service. Every house has a gun for defense, that very July 4 when the UNITA soldiers attacked a barrio, 20 children and women were instantly killed in a cave where they were hiding when the UNITA soldiers threw hand grenades in. what made me paralyzed with fear was the sound of loud wailing of friends and relatives of the victims being carried by the winds following an attack.
During the darkest moments we had one death in the house, the wife of one of the Portuguese refugees due to sickness. But we also had a blessing as one mother gave birth to a child in the basement of our house. Many pregnant women have never seen their children alive or if they give birth, the babies were pale and sickly for they were already malnourished in the womb of the mother. There where no more smiles from the people, children were no longer playing in the street, people where almost hopeless, deaths from hunger increased.
Then in September, the Caritas plane arrived unloading tons of food supplies – the first sign of hope. Almost seemed unbelievable. Packages started to come in and different health organizations came in to help the children, I took care of the kitchen in the hospital feeding 300 patients daily with three meals. I organized the kitchen personnel in distribution so that it will go directly to the sick without being diverted somewhere else because corruption and stealing had become rampant. Sr. Mechtild and Sr. Geny were in-charge of organizing the feeding centers in the different zones and Sr. Monika was in-charge of the store houses of the Caritas World Food Program and UNICEF. The church had truly become the living symbol of Christ the servant of the poor. The church had become the Church.
“Ready to die” these words reminded me of the first requirement of a missionary to Angola. Confronted by these words in the actual situation I cried very hard once before the Lord, but submitting to His Will gave me the strength needed not only to accept physical death but to accept also death to myself. The difficulties and the volume of worked were simply tremendous, yet the service, love and compassion I received and gave to my small community of sisters made this heavy burden of service to the bigger community lighter. Not only by food are we made healthy and strong but by fulfilling our role in realizing God’s reign. God has been with us and has never left us. His presence sustained me throughout my mission years in Angola. Thank you for your prayers. Thank you Lord for making me an instrument of your peace.
Rats became precious-costing from 8 – 15,000 kwanzas depending upon the size.