FROM HORROR TO HOPE with Ignatius Mwanyekange

WITH IGNATIUS MWANYEKANGE

FROM HORROR TO HOPE

On the morning of 4 May 1978, the South African Defence Force ran an airstrike on Camp Cassinga near the village of Cassinga, followed by a deployment of paratroopers. The camp had been inhabited by exiled SWAPO sympathisers and their families. Hundreds of Namibians died in the attack – possibly many more than were reported, according to survivors of that fateful day.

Ignatuis Mwanyekange was on his way to school when the bombs started falling. These are his words.

So many years have gone by, but I see it as if it happened yesterday.

I was fourteen and that morning we were going to the parade as usual, after which we would attend school. I saw four big planes dropping bombs. I didn’t know what was going on. That moment, everybody started falling down – and there was the smoke and the screaming, the smell and the shouting.

I tried to run away from the bombs at first. The first plane came and then the helicopters – their sound was so bad. And you felt that even if you are hiding somewhere, they would see you.

I fell down. It was a horrific sight – bodies scattered everywhere. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t know what was going on. Children were running, crying. It was horrible, terrifying. We were running between the long grass.

One of my friends got to me and said, “We are under attack.” We ran to a bus and tried to go under it, but it had been shot and was on fire.

We ran to the river. Some people didn’t know how to swim, but you saw them running into the water. By then there were bodies everywhere, within maybe thirty minutes. Bodies all over. And the shouting . . .

We tried to take cover, to lie down in the maize field. We found cover under a tree and I passed out. I completely lost my memory. When I woke up, I didn’t know who I was.

That day I lost my auntie. She was pregnant. I survived and my sister also. My elder brother was away during the attack and also survived.

When we were taken from Cassinga, we were transported by plane to Luanda and from there to Cuba. And I was looking at the plane and I couldn’t see how I would be able to enter it because to me a plane was something horrible, something used to kill people. I will never forget our mothers receiving us in Cuba, crying.

Observing those horrible things at a young age, having an experience that traumatic . . . as the years go on, it affects you.

There are days when you ask yourself, why? Why should people be killed? Why did this have to happen? And those who committed it, can they even sleep? Because it was cruel. It was so cruel.

Since I came back home in 1989, I have been involved in the church and I was lucky because I participated in a lot of activities that involved counselling. I met some members of the police, too, some from South Africa, some from Zimbabwe, who had also gone through trauma.

I’ve overcome most of it, and I’m glad to say I have met many people from different corners of this country when

we’ve held counselling sessions. But there are times – my wife, she knows when these days come – when I do cry. I do cry. What I have seen – scattered bodies, one leg here, an arm there, somebody screaming out at you. But I was young and couldn’t do anything.

These things are all still on my mind. They still affect me, but in counselling you talk to somebody instead of keeping the pain inside.

Most of the survivors around this country still haven’t overcome it. Some don’t even go out on Cassinga Day. They lock themselves inside, crying because it’s so difficult to remember such a day when you see other people taking this day as a joke, as a normal holiday. You see people drinking, laughing, while you are remembering what

happened. That adds more injury to the situation. They don’t know that this day is about people burying their loved ones.

Remember that people went through hardship on Cassinga Day. Let’s take this day very seriously. This is not a day for joking, it is not a day for enjoyment. It is a day where we can remember those who died for this country. It’s a day to remember all who fell, no matter what colour, because in this country many people lost their lives, on both sides. There were many people who were loved by their families who were lost.

We have comrades who feel rejected and they live in poverty and there is no peace for them. These people need to be listened to. They need love; they need care. It was not their choice to be there. Perhaps it is God’s will that they should remain behind to be witnesses, to tell their story. We have to make these people also feel that they are human beings, that we are with them in the pain they have gone through.

We have to educate them and the public at large. If you

know a person who has survived trauma, try to talk to the person: “What happened? What did you see?” Through counselling and talking to somebody, you will be released. To get to feel like a human being again.

We need to forgive to go forward.

If we rely on the past, on the trauma, we end up committing more crimes.

Our history gives us an understanding that war is not a good thing. I don’t want my children, I don’t want this country, to ever again come to war. We need to help one another, we need to build this nation in peace, but peace comes with responsibility. Peace comes with respect.

Thank those who contribute to peace, stability, forgiveness and reconciliation. We should not take it for granted. We should look forward and not blame one another, but rather embrace each other and give a helping hand. We must maintain this peace, because peace is like an egg. The moment you crack it, it’s broken.

“We need to forgive to go forward.”