Friday 2 August 2019

Congo Kinshasa: donations, not "likes", cure sick children


Summer holidays are a great time of year, whether you enjoy local days out, or you’re able to travel further afield. Here in the Congo, the concept of a holiday is not really familiar to people. Firewood stocks still need to be maintained; the routines of cooking, and washing clothes by hand, continue whether you have a holiday from work, or school, or not.
Francis Hannaway

The idea of leisure time, however, is growing. If you can afford it, families will go out for a soft-drink or something stronger. The couple of established beer gardens, in Basankusu, are not usually too busy. Running fridges from diesel generators, they make a fair living from families that have a little money to enjoy themselves with.

Facebook is the other new attraction. Battered old mobile phones started to arrive in Basankusu in 2006, at the end of the civil war. It was a real revolution! Nobody had any credit, but they soon developed a system of “beeping” their relatives in Kinshasa, the capital. They phone – then hang up … in the hope that their relatives will return the call. It didn’t take long before social media started to interest people, despite our poor connection.

Mgr. Jean Calvin, the most unusually named priest in the diocese, often visits the Mill Hill house to use the internet. “I’m very impressed with your Facebook page, Francis,” he said one day. “You have so many “likes” for the videos about your centre for malnutrition!”

July and August are always hectic! Mother’s and children come from far away villages. As I write we have fifty-two children, so, when you read this there will be at least seventy children at our centres. The centres rely solely on donations – the vast majority of them from people in Middlesbrough Diocese.

People get to know about my work through two main routes: one is through the Catholic Voice … I was so happy to meet people earlier this year, in Lourdes, who knew me because of my monthly articles; and Facebook posts (you’re all welcome to add me!). I am, in effect, a professional facebooker – the videos, photos and commentaries about the work of my malnutrition centres generate the most donations. Without donations the centre would close, and countless unfortunate children would die.

I replied to Mgr. Jean Calvin. “It’s vey nice that people like my videos,” I said. “but unfortunately, malnutrition isn’t cured with Facebook “likes”; it’s cured with milk, beans and rice. Unless people make a commitment to give some money – perhaps the price of a round of drinks, or the price of a meal in a restaurant - the “likes” will count for nothing. Without funds the children could die.”

“Yes, you are right,” gasped Monsignor as he packed away his computer, ready to gvo home. “I hope people remember to send you something before they all go off on their summer holidays!”