The Cost of a Life...

There are very few moments in your life when you experience that second you realize your life was spared…only by the grace of God. Never did I believe I would feel the shock, fear, sadness and relief I felt that day 2 months ago in May when I stood on the border of the country of Sudan, the only white person for miles and looked up to the sky, with tears streaming down my face and thanked God. Never.

It was an extremely hot and dry day in the small, remote town of Lokichoggio, Kenya located within the northern mountains bordering Kenya and the country to the north, Sudan. As we packed up the JAM land rover with mattresses, clothes, water, cans of food and a satellite telephone, I walked past the window and looked at the sign on the side of the car –no machine guns on board this vehicle. I climbed in to the rusted back of the truck, and we rolled across the dusty, mountainous road up to the border of Kenya, I peered out to see a long line of trucks waiting to cross over the border together. I could hear the giggles of small children as they played within the dust and kicked around an empty water bottle, playing and laughing within abject poverty. Looking at the convoy of trucks waiting to leave, our driver made the decision we had to drive alone, making it in time to beat the dusk curfew imposed on all vehicles traveling within Sudan. We had our visas stamped within a small shack painted with the word “IMMIGRATION” and we climbed in to the cars. We were entering a 10-mile stretch of rebel-controlled territory that sat between the 2 borders of these countries. As we began the drive in one of the most dangerous areas in the world, I sat on the floor of the truck, peered through the window, looked at the mountains and prayed. Feelings of unidentifiable fear came in waves as the 10 miles took about 40 minutes to drive and I knew that people had died before us on this same dusty path. I was no longer sitting on my couch watching a movie about the conflict in Africa, no longer was I watching CNN and seeing the effects of Darfur upon Southern Sudan, no longer was I writing about it – I was on the floor, looking out…experiencing it.

About 40 minutes later, we pulled the JAM vehicle across the border into Nadapal Border Post and I stepped into Sudan. I carefully walked into a small shack building to pay for and receive my visa and turned to see a looming darkness that creeped out of a small, barred hole. I squinted my eyes and peered a little closer to see two old, wrinkled hands grasped around a water bottle as he sat in the Sudanese jail cell. I turned abruptly as the shrill screams and shouting of young women could be heard. My coworkers and I ran down the dusty road to see the convoy of trucks we almost traveled with arriving with people screaming and bullet holes splintering the vehicles. The rebels had attacked, shot at and murdered people 5 minutes after we arrived. My mind began to spin understanding that our truck has passed by rebels and was spared, my thoughts rocketed back to sitting on the bottom of the truck, my heart pounded as I turned to see over 20 men with AK47s running from the bush and my eyes welled with tears as I realized for the first time in my life I was standing in the middle of a warzone. The chaos that ensued was confusing and scary as the 20 armed men, members of the Sudanese army, jumped on to a large truck that had a mounted machine gun and drove into the bush to fight the attacking rebels. As people unfolded out of the attacked convoy, my driver grabbed my VISA and instructed us to get into the truck. We jumped in as dusted tears streamed down my cheeks and we drove off into the Sudanese countryside. For about an hour, no one said anything to anyone, we just stared out through the dusted sky trying to process what children see in this country every single day.

For the next 9 days we camped within the middle of Southern Sudan along the Nile River. The temperatures soared into the early 100's as we took bucket showers from the Nile, had long drops for toilets and ate canned food each morning. As I met with the United Nations and the Government of Sudan to discuss new JAM programming within nutrition, water and HIV/AIDS, I felt more than ever the reality of the need for the program I was discussing. As the end of our trip neared, my coworker and I knew that we would have to pass through that same territory to return home and reports had surfaced that 3 more killings had taken place since we had arrived. As we sat around our tents discussing safety, we decided on hiring military protection for the 40 mile stretch back to Kenya. For the first time in my life I was discussing what it would cost to protect it.....

We looked at our budgets, negotiated with the military and handed over $40 per person. We stood at the Sudan border waiting for the military to arrive and I played with a young Sudanese child, barely draped in any clothing at all. I realized that I was going home, I was leaving...behind so many who have never left. Across the road I could see 2 other trucks waiting to cross and as the military approached, they all joined behind our vehicle to try and reap the benefit of the protection we had hired. The military raced as fast as they could across the extremely bumpy road with our vehicle in tow and 3 others behind. As I sat on the floor and we sped through the moutainous terrain, I prayed. As I peered out the back of the truck, I could see the other vehicles through the kicked up dust and then my heart sank. Behind me I watched as one truck broke down far out in the distance, full of people, in one of the most dangerous places in the world. The military kept driving, no one saw it and we had to follow, feeling an unbelievable sense of incapability and shock. As I lay my head down on the bed that night in May I was reminded again of how present GOD really is as I realized that day I had experienced one of the most challenging days of my life and that I had again seen the reason the world must act to help save its own.

Never had I looked at $40 that way - a nice pair of black pants, a couple of DVD's, my life.

After 1994, the UN, the leaders of the world and the common citizen referred to Rwanda and said "Never Again". Sadly, after this last trip to Sudan, I have realized, I think they might be too late...