Goma, Nord Kivu Province Democratic Republic of Congo, October 30th 2011
The movie Ezra, a full length drama about a child soldier in a fictional African country who is abducted by rebels, comes back to his own village and kills his parents, tells a tale that has some resonance in the Congo, including here in the war torn Kivus and tonight, where it is being shown at the Salaam Kivu International Film Festival. The movie is not exactly high art, but it tells a story and has some tense drama, including battle scenes and killings by child soldiers that are frightening enough in their realism. The audience watches with rapt attention—this is context with local echo. When the lights go up and the Q and A starts most of the commentary refers to personal experience and to having been moved by this film. One young man stops his intervention and says he cannot continue.
With the movie over, it is time to get home which means finding a ride. When you move around at night in Goma you must be strategic about it. The outlying residential quarters are prone to night time armed robberies and attacks in the street by “bandits”, armed men in uniform which is short hand for the government army and police.
In the central areas of the city, it is more a matter of not moving around on foot, with gangs of street youth being the primary menace. But you can move from point to point, from the main hotels and restaurants by motorcycle taxi. The moto-taxi drivers are invariably young men and the one I hail tonight to get home looks capable enough. Half way there, his bike sputters and stops and he tells me we are out of gas. It is not a good spot. In seconds a young man runs up to us. He is a street boy, 16 or 17 with ragged clothing, wild eyes and an animal tooth necklace. I don’t know that he’s a demobilised soldier, but he fits the profile; many young men here have had military experience, particularly those who live on the street.
I am angry with my Father!
He says this in English, and repeats it several times:
I am angry with my Father!
This could mean many different things but I’m not sticking around to find out what. There is a well lit intersection up ahead where a few boys are selling gas from a jerry can. The driver and I set off pushing the motorcycle, leaving the street boy behind.