Personal reflection on the armed attacks in Darfur

It is strange that I had some tension as I drove into the hotel last month. The occasion was the much-anticipated meeting with three colleagues who survived the grenade attack on 4 July in Nyala, in South Darfur. I knew that the reactions of survivors who go through such traumatic experiences can be unpredictable.

But I walked in and marveled. The setting was serene. The venue, Challagam Resort centre, is in Nairobi’s upmarket Karen area. The time was I pm and East Africa’s regional leader, Dr Charles Owubah, was there. He was also keen to listen to the breathtaking stories of the survivors’ experiences. I sank into my chair at the table, casting a quick glance at my colleagues. 

On an adjacent table, was an array of assorted cooked food that emitted a strong aroma, a clear testimony of the arranged delicacies. But all of us ignored it. Five metres away, the sound of gushing water from a man-made waterfall helped ease the tension. It was evident our colleagues in the People & Culture department had chosen the venue carefully.

I took another glance at my colleagues who had survived the harrowing experience that made headlines globally, and I shuddered. Dr Owubah chimed in with humorous jokes, one after another, to help ease tension. He followed with a narration of a real life experience that elicited more laughter.

Then the three colleagues began reflecting on that day. They opened up and shared about death, injuries, bullets and grenades. Their countenances dropped as they relived how their colleague’s lifeless body lay prostrate on the ground, and as two others in critical condition bled.

I cringed because their experience conjured up memories of a similar incident that happened in the same place, nearly six years to the day. 

Reliving earlier horrors 

I lived in Nyala for two years. One day in July of 2007, I delegated my assistant to visit the south of South Darfur to take photos and stories on our interventions. On that trip was a key support office staff member. As required, my assistant would help with translations. Satisfied that all was well, I then went back to my office to work.

The travelling team did not arrive safely.

Forty kilometres into the journey, they were attacked. Armed individuals sprayed their vehicle with bullets. Three World Vision staff members from the same Nyala office (including my assistant) were injured, one critically.

While still working at my desk, the radio control room received the distress signal that threw me and other colleagues into a mad frenzy. I cried and I prayed. 

I also ran to and from the United Nations office numerous times to plead for a chopper to rescue our injured colleagues. It took four hours to get a permit and secure the safety of our stranded colleagues.

That fateful attack culminated a melodramatic week. Earlier, on Monday, staff were attacked, gun-butted and robbed in the north of South Darfur. Two days later, we lost a vehicle to an armed gang. A day later, the attack at Bul Bul that received wide international media coverage happened.

However, unlike the shooting of 2007, 40 kilometres from our office, our three colleagues this time around faced the harrowing experience within the World Vision compound. 

What is true humanitarian service?

Reflecting on the two incidences in South Darfur, I can only conclude that true humanitarian service demands courage and sacrifice. Reaching out to vulnerable people, including children who rely on our staff for support in areas like Darfur, has its challenges. It is challenging. But, even more, it is rewarding.

At the end of the day, it is such brave sacrifices that are helping save this world.