My sister, Florida

Just over a year ago, I stumbled upon an article on Salon.com about the women of the Congo. Horrified by the stories of doctors trying to recreate women's vaginas and digestive tracks that had been shot out by rapist, asshole 'soldiers', I did the typical 30-something, tech savvy thing and posted an article on Facebook. For some reason, this just didn't feel fulfilling.

So I poked around a bit more, and found this organization called Women for Women International. I have a few qualms about the name, as it seems to suggest that only women are for women and that men, well...they're hopeless. But that aside, the organization itself seemed to do pretty decent things, and it gets pretty decent ratings. And being a woman and being generally pro-woman (pro-humanity, actually), I figure what the hell and decided to work with them.

I rehearsed my plan aloud, as is my custom, with a friend of mine (let's call her Lynn) and talked about how I was going to sponsor a woman in the Congo. I'd always wanted a sister, and now Women for Women was going to give me one. Lynn thought this was a good idea, so we decided to co-sponsor a sister and, thus, became related to Ms. Florida Fuaha M'maumbuko, mother of two, wife, farmer, and (thanks to W4W) student. For the past year, she was studying at their facilities learning about soap making and other job skills. She recently graduated from the program, and with a somewhat heavy heart, I say "goodbye" to the sister I have not ever met.

I worry about her future, and the future of her children. In her exit interview, she said that relations with her husband and children have improved and that she was able to buy medicine, clothing, food, two rabbits and ten guinea pigs with the money she received from the program. I'm happy for her, but damn, it just doesn't feel like enough. She lives in the Congo, for Christ's sake! The country with the second-highest rate of war deaths in 2002, THE most deadly conflict since WWII, a country that hope seems to have forgotten all together. But life is as it is, I suppose.

Florida is now (God willing) in a better position, even if her geography is hell. And Lynn and I have a new sister for a year, Ms. Jeanne Gurhahoza Mmutagoyola, born 1968, wife and mother of 8 (7 girls, 1 boy), an internally displaced farmer looking forward to the opprotunity to develop vocational and literary skills, and with any luck, she'll have enough change left over to buy a couple rabbits and maybe some guinea pigs.

It never feels like enough. I'd like to wax all poetic about how at least she has a name, at least she was treated with some regard, that at least we were able to extend some small amount of human decency. But really...I'm just some soft, over-fed, bleeding-heart intellectual trying to pinch myself out of complacency one electronic transfer at a time. But at least I had/have a little sister now.