Life Not in Niger

My life and work in Niger has taught me many lessons in life – but there are some lessons that give only head knowledge of events.  I’ve taken a course on Humanitarian Aid Relief, focusing on how to roll out relief in a disaster … what needs to be done, how to care for refugees or evacuees – called in this work external or internal displaced people. 

I’ve dealt with crises here in Niger – a population of the Kongu villagers losing their homes when the government bulldozed & burned their hut settlement … 2 famines in 4.5 years.  During the coup in 2010, needing to evacuate my home, not knowing when I would return – and thankfully being home the next day as there were no major political changes in the country.

But, nothing prepares you for living the experience yourself.

2 weeks before I returned to Niger, I moved to High River to spend my final weeks with my family.

4 days later, the rain refused to move on, the flood waters rose and my family was evacuated from our homes – my parent’s home, my brother and his family too.

We found ourselves internally displaced people … living on the beds of friends, out of boxes and the few things we could grab.  I am grateful to God that circumstances the week prior had me packing my suitcases early – usually a job I leave to the last week.  However, this time, my suitcases were 98% packed and we could roll them out the door in the 5ish minutes we had to leave.

Our homes in the middle of the new lake

What the week before had been a frustration, in a week packed with activities, became a blessing of God.  And while it was frustrating this last week to rebuy things I had left behind, and to wait months to hopefully receive the rest that cannot be replaced, I am grateful for what I was able to get out.

I am thankful for the advance warning we had of the potential evacuation looming … 10 minutes which allowed me to get my stored belongings out of my parent’s basement up to the main floor.  However, now,  we do not know even if the main floor was also flooded.  And while for the last week, I have heard many people floating the words “it is all just stuff, things” … they are my things.  The little in life that I have pared down so many times, that it remains only 8 small rubbermaid containers of momentos I consider too precious to sell and which become part of comfort and “home” in the times I am in Canada.  For my family, all their belongings too and the buildings themselves are their things and they have lost so much more than I.

But all that aside of things, nothing in Niger has prepared me for the emotions of being evacuated and homeless.  For the limbo state of living in the unknown and waiting weeks to return home.  And even at that, I have now moved back to Niger.  And nothing has prepared me for the agony of leaving my family in the middle of a crisis … the limbo state in which they continue not knowing when or if they can return to their homes.

They are calling my emotional home of High River the “epicentre of the storm” … a disaster zone.

Our place of evacuation was Calgary – so I had a front line seat to the flooding in this city and I watched from an emotional distance the flooding happening in my home town of Calgary … their evacuations and flooding.  And I have to say, it was amazing to see how fast Calgary returned to normal.  So normal in fact, that even in the days of the flooding, the city declared the Stampede would go on in 2 weeks. Adopting the motto “Come Hell or High Water”.  I’m a native Calgarian, I get the Calgary pride and Stampede spirit.  But, I have to say, given my experience overseas, this sickened me … overseas, the focus is shelter, food, medicine, water and latrines.  Yet, the richness of my home town allows a first priority to be entertainment.  And while I get that it brings in revenue – it seems to me to be money earned on the back of suffering neighbours.

So, back now in Niger – and feeling like my soul has no resting place to call home.  My heart is beyond divided.  Going back to Canada was like my heart divided in two and lived in two zones.  Now, it feels like my body is here and my heart is left behind.  The joy of being here is overwhelmed by the devastation of my family.

So for that – I would appreciate all your prayers:  For my soul to settle.  For my family stuck in the unknown.  For their grief and loss. 

And if you see my family – my parents, brother, sister-in-law, nieces … be my arms for me, and give them a hug!