There was an article about the DRC in my inbox this morning containing a quote that threatened to suck the breath right out of me.
"A three-year-old girl succumbed to injuries sustained from defilement, presumably by the FDLR," Yombo said. "According to her mother, the [girl's] sisters aged 12, 14 and 17 have also all been raped at least once by armed men."
A three year old girl.
Three.
Three is when you learn how to jump rope.
Three is when you think candy is more valuable than money.
Three is when you think the world is the size of your backyard and that seems humongous to you.
Three is when you still believe in superheroes.
Three is when even knowing rape exists as a weapon should not be possible.
Can you imagine, even for a moment, how horrific a little girl’s injuries must be to die from them?
Can you imagine, even for a moment, the total and abject terror that child must have felt as she was being violated? What her three sisters and mother felt as it happened to them and they watched it happen to her? Three year old girls don’t even know what a penis is – not really.
The situation in the DRC – the total attempted destruction of females, or as Eve Ensler calls it, femicide – is the most dire on the planet.
War is being waged on the bodies of girls and women. GIRLS.
And the longer allow war to be waged on the bodies of those girls and women, the greater our message to each other that war can be waged on the bodies of all girls and women.
What is happening in the DRC is not a matter of race, it’s a matter of geography. The battle is over resources – the resources mined to build our cell phones, our Blackberrys, our iPhones, our X-Boxes and our PlayStations.
The solution to the mining issue is not to shut down the mines but rather to engage with companies in responsible mining.
Look at your iPhone or your Blackberry. Are all the helpful apps and bells and whistles worth the life of a three year old girl? Is having the coolest, newest gadget worth having a child raped to death?
I’m not for a moment suggesting giving up your phone or PlayStation but you can ask the companies you buy from to provide proof the minerals used in the products you buy don’t come at the cost of the girls and women of the DRC – at the rate of 1,100 reported rapes a month.
There are ways to force companies to be more accountable, like the Kimberley Process governing the mining of diamonds, that puts an end, mostly, to blood diamonds. Is it perfect? No. But if we want perfection we will never start.
And we must start.
Because three year old girls are being raped to death.
I look at my Blackberry and I think how cool it is. With it on my hip, I can work from anywhere, I can update Facebook, I can Tweet – I can be in touch with all my friends – from anywhere.
But really, what is the point of us being connected electronically if we lose sight of the fact we are interconnected?
ps – Click here to find out how you can spread the word, raise much needed funds.
"A three-year-old girl succumbed to injuries sustained from defilement, presumably by the FDLR," Yombo said. "According to her mother, the [girl's] sisters aged 12, 14 and 17 have also all been raped at least once by armed men."
A three year old girl.
Three.
Three is when you learn how to jump rope.
Three is when you think candy is more valuable than money.
Three is when you think the world is the size of your backyard and that seems humongous to you.
Three is when you still believe in superheroes.
Three is when even knowing rape exists as a weapon should not be possible.
Can you imagine, even for a moment, how horrific a little girl’s injuries must be to die from them?
Can you imagine, even for a moment, the total and abject terror that child must have felt as she was being violated? What her three sisters and mother felt as it happened to them and they watched it happen to her? Three year old girls don’t even know what a penis is – not really.
The situation in the DRC – the total attempted destruction of females, or as Eve Ensler calls it, femicide – is the most dire on the planet.
War is being waged on the bodies of girls and women. GIRLS.
And the longer allow war to be waged on the bodies of those girls and women, the greater our message to each other that war can be waged on the bodies of all girls and women.
What is happening in the DRC is not a matter of race, it’s a matter of geography. The battle is over resources – the resources mined to build our cell phones, our Blackberrys, our iPhones, our X-Boxes and our PlayStations.
The solution to the mining issue is not to shut down the mines but rather to engage with companies in responsible mining.
Look at your iPhone or your Blackberry. Are all the helpful apps and bells and whistles worth the life of a three year old girl? Is having the coolest, newest gadget worth having a child raped to death?
I’m not for a moment suggesting giving up your phone or PlayStation but you can ask the companies you buy from to provide proof the minerals used in the products you buy don’t come at the cost of the girls and women of the DRC – at the rate of 1,100 reported rapes a month.
There are ways to force companies to be more accountable, like the Kimberley Process governing the mining of diamonds, that puts an end, mostly, to blood diamonds. Is it perfect? No. But if we want perfection we will never start.
And we must start.
Because three year old girls are being raped to death.
I look at my Blackberry and I think how cool it is. With it on my hip, I can work from anywhere, I can update Facebook, I can Tweet – I can be in touch with all my friends – from anywhere.
But really, what is the point of us being connected electronically if we lose sight of the fact we are interconnected?
ps – Click here to find out how you can spread the word, raise much needed funds.
5 comments:
This mad me cry.
That hurt me worse then if I had been struck....
No words....
As an avid gamer, I will write to Microsoft, Sony and Nintendo to urge them to mine responsibly. Thanks for this Lola.
Hi Lola, it's Shannon. I love your blog.
You mentioned this girl at our lunch and in that moment she became, for me, the emblem of what I want to be a part of stopping. I couldn't stop thinking about her and the--there are no words, 'horror' doesn't even touch it--sorrow of her last hours.
The thought and memory of this baby girl will be my fuel. I wish I knew her name. Like you alluded to in our conversation, I'll scream for her, for as long as it takes.
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