For the exiled

The news is abound with stories of elections. I have noticed when it comes to Africa, there always seems to be an election story- elections about to happen, currently happening, refusing to happen. Elections contested, disputed, heroically accepted. Elections are about more than the leading face of the country. They're about power, democratic stability and the will of the people. And Western will, of course. For all the US blubbering about potential Russian influence in the elections, it would seem the general public is unaware of how much meddling America does in foreign politics, especially African ones. 

Bamako seems to be doing just fine after her first round (though perhaps the same cannot be said for regions outside the capital.) In the city, the rain appears to be a greater inconvenience than election unrest. I tried to get a shot of the motorcycle rain-rider style but figured it was a better idea to keep my eyes on the road. Motorcyclists have a million variations of rain gear- from actual jackets and hoods cinched tight under the chin to garbage bags with convenient holes, but by far the most interesting observation is the riding posture used to navigate puddles. While I wasn't able to snap a photo of the knees-pulled-in-feet-resting-on-the-gas-tank maneuver I had been admiring, Kylie did capture this expressive series of shots that starts out with reluctant surprise and ends with a carefree glance back at the next brave travelers.

Are we doing this?

Yeah, I think we're doing this.

Your turn, cowboys!

When it comes to African elections, there rarely seems to be a carefree look - back or ahead. DRC's election woes have been dragging out for nearly 2 years and there is not a clear end in sight. The drama continues to deepen as players such as Jean-Pierre Bemba and Moise Katumbi enter the fray. Katumbi is still trying to get in to DRC to make his candidature official, while JPB's history hardly seems presidential.

Though the drama plays out in the news with something of a tabloid feel (an incredible comeback from convictions of war crimes and crimes against humanity on the one hand and, on the other, a luminary politician-businessman-soccer club owner who was previous chums with the president) there is surely a behind the scenes.

While it is impossible to know how much, if any, of the feud was orchestrated (did Kabila and Katumbi drum up their row in order to force him into exile only so he can return as champion for the people? Or has he been seduced by high powered friends? Oh, the soap opera-ness of it all...) the current efforts to keep Katumbi out- and all the other exiles out- must be taking an emotional toll.

Exile- a forced or voluntary absence from one's home, typically for political or punitive reasons. Banishment. Showing up at home only to find the door locked. Or even worse, showing up at home only to find big men with guns barring the way- or little men with guns slinking around in the darkness waiting for a vulnerable moment. Despite the uncertainty surrounding the sincerity of Katumbi's effort's to enter the country, there remain plenty of other activists who've been left homeless.

There can be no comparable feeling to being shunned by your own country, your birthplace. The surprise and pain of being labeled an enemy of the state - your own state which you love and have fought for nearly since birth- and the shock of suddenly finding yourself alone and without- it takes a minute to truly comprehend how deep that cuts into the soul. The very fabric of one's being and the basis for an entire identity suddenly, brutally taken away, for an indeterminable amount of time.

The future does not look the same as it once did. Not for those individuals.  Having faith and staying strong depends in large part on one's ability to maintain a close community of support- most often at a distance. If anything, Bemba's 11 year absence and quick return shows us how unexpectedly even the most dire circumstances can shift. There is hope.

There is hope and possibility and entire communities rooting for you. We support you. We stand behind you. We remember you and we continue to seek justice.