Fear

October 14th, 2008

It’s been quieter here in Mweso for the last few days. There is no active fighting here. The people who didn’t flee are slowly returning to their normal lives. At the market, four women sit with their items for sale. Their hair is braided again. But the fear remains. How long will it stay quiet?

I see the fear every day and am reminded of it each day when one of our guards, an old “Papa”, opens the hospital gate for me.

A few days ago, when there was fighting around Mweso, a new stream of displaced people arrived. This time the people had come from a small village one and a half kilometers farther down the road. They told us that the fighting had already reached their village. This old Papa hesitantly came over to us with a frightened look on his face. He asked us if he could please leave his post to go and get his wife. He was terrified that something might happen to her. This old man was afraid of losing a job that supported his family, but even more afraid of what could happen to his wife. With a face showing relief, anxiety and fear, he literally ran out of the hospital.

He returned an hour later. He was helping along his elderly wife and had tied their last few things onto his back. They planned to spend the night on the hospital grounds.

The fear I saw in his eyes is visible here night and day. Sometimes it’s at the centre of things. Other times it fades into the background of our daily activities when things settle down. But it is always present.

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