“Okay. So, does the church limit the length of the stay at missions like Mapuordit or will they leave you there until you’re too old to do your job? If so, what happens then?” Hanley asked. He turned the yoke, depressed the left pedal slightly and changed the plane’s direction to put its nose in line with the mission, still some three-hundred miles away.
As the plane moved, so did the sun, blinding the nun, who raised her hand to block it. Deep creases formed at the corners of her eyes as she squinted to see the pilot. Her browned face, paled by the hard light, showed a slight smile of amusement and she said, “When I’m too old to work, I will no longer be useful to anyone and I will lie down and die. If we cannot make a difference, we do not deserve to hold a place on this earth. It will be time to give my place to someone who can. I think I have a few more good years left. How many good years left do you have?” she asked.
“Oh, I think my good years ended some time ago. And, being fundamentally selfish, I refuse to concede my spot to anyone. Anyway, I have found my calling, which is being a target for your abuse. What more Christian-like service can I offer than to sacrifice myself to protect others from your scorn?” he said, smiling.
“What scorn? I have nothing but complete admiration and respect for you and everyone. I suppose there are times when my earnestness, my focus to help others, causes me to push hard on the people I work with, but that is only because there is so much to do. Time and resources are scared–”
“Scarce.”
“–scarce, that I feel we all must make a greater effort to succeed. If my tactics are hard–”
“Harsh.”
“Stop it! I meant ‘hard’,” she said.
The American smiled again.
“Anyway, what else can we do but fight against what is happening here. The government is supporting all this, the abuse of the people. Who will help them if we don’t?” she asked.
“Yep, you’re right, the government isn’t very supportive. The Janjaweed are more powerful than they should be, from what I can tell; too precise and well-equipped. I’m no military expert by any stretch of the imagination, but these guys seem to be too coordinated. They never seem to be short of bullets. From what I’ve been told, they spray bullets around like water from a garden hose. Someone is supplying them. It has to be a government, either Khartoum or elsewhere. I doubt it’s the US. So, who is it? Who stands to gain the most from pushing the people from Darfur? And, why Darfur? Why not the people in the south?” he asked.
Turbulence shook the plane, making it suddenly rise and fall. “The plane shaking is making me nauseous,” she said. “I have not eaten since thus morning. That is not helping. This headset is not helping either. It has all given me a headache.” Resting her head against the back of the seat, her eyes closed against the sunlight. Opening her eyes, she said, “It’s complicated. Nomadic Arabs want to graze on the land of the Darfur farmers as they move about and the farmers resist the intrusion. Retaliation and theft were factors initially. Then there are religious differences. But they always settled their differences peacefully. The government changed and supported the nomadic Arabs. Add to that the possibility that Darfur may have oil beneath it and then who knows who may be involved. With oil comes money and money changes men.”
“Just men? I don’t think so. Ask my ex-wife. If Darfur has oil, then things start to make more sense. I mean, the extent of the government’s involvement starts to make more sense to me. I’ve always wondered if the influence of other Arab states is present in Sudan. Perhaps it is. If there is ethnic cleansing, it may be only part of a long-range plan to control what may one day become a money-making area of the country.”
“That is such an ugly phrase, ‘ex-wife’”.
“It was ugly, trust me. If the Janjaweed and the Baggara are supported by Khartoum, then the people of Darfur stand no chance of surviving this, do they?”
“No,” she said. “They will have little chance of remaining where they are. They will be swept away by the troops and thugs employed by the government, much like dust on a bare floor. Watching this happen is maddening. As we watch, these people are driven from their lands, many raped and murdered. It has happened so many times before and we still have not learned to care, learned how and when to become involved. I can only ponder. It is heartbreaking. My
