From Barefoot to shoe-bearer, the story behind a family’s NGO donating shoes to children victims of the ongoing war in DRC.
Emmanuel Ntibonera in the US in 2021. Source : Ketura Boko
By Ketura Boko
Emmanuel, ten years old, ran barefoot for hours under the burning sun of Bukavu, in the Democratic Republic of Congo, not knowing where he was going. As he ran, he passed through roads where women were being raped and militias were shooting. Bukavu is located next to the Rwandan border, known to be a place of extreme violence and sexual abuse.
It was 1996, and the quest for freedom had started for Emmanuel Ntibonera and his family. War broke out in DRC and they had to flee, in their case, to the safety of neighboring Kenya. Name a trauma, his family experienced it. On the road to citizenship, they were ambushed, and everyday felt like the last one on earth. Although his story is full of horrors, Ntibonera believes his is the hopeful story of a family of eleven members seeking refuge and surviving war.
War eruption
Ntibonera was playing outside with his siblings when he heard a “boom.” Seven years old at the time, he did not pay attention to it. But the sounds grew louder and became more frequent. People started running, so he got afraid. His father rushed outside and brought them into the house. All the neighbors barricaded themselves inside.
“I was scared. Everything I was eating, I was throwing it up right after,” he said.
At night the parents gathered everyone together and prayed. Only a kerosene lamp was lighting the house to avoid being noticed by the soldiers. The next morning, the family had to pack and urgently leave the house. His father feared his sons would get recruited by the militias invading the country. Explosions rippled through the air, and fear shadowed their souls.
“We started running to nowhere,” Ntibonera said. “We just had to never look back. I was carrying my youngest little brother in my arms and was out of breath” he said, “Have you ever felt the pain of barefooting when the ground is extremely hot? Feels like somebody is peeling every layer of your skin.”
The beginning of the Congo War
Déo Namujimbo is from Ituri, a province of the Democratic Republic of the Congo. He explains in 1996, Bukavu was one of the first provinces to be ruined by the war. Considering its geographic position, it was a key point of entrance for Ugandan and Rwandan militias.
The Congolese conflict started as a direct result of the Rwandan genocide that occurred in 1994. “It is the deadliest conflict to this date, after the world wars. It all started because of ethnic grievances and hunger for power from thieves,” he said.
I proceeded to ask who the thieves were. He answered “the politicians.” The early days of war in 1996 resulted in a lot of families fleeing with no prospects of a bright future.
“No one could save anyone. We were counting on divine intervention. We were wrong, it was just the beginning of the nightmare,” Namujimbo said.
I interviewed Pierre Kabeya, a war survivor. He felt betrayed by their then-president Mobutu.
“The president don’t help and the militia kill. Faith is all we had,” he said, “In DRC, we are believers because only Nzambe saw us in the war.”
Nzambe means “God” in Lingala, the most popular dialect of DRC.
1997: Fatherless in the wilderness
After a year on the run through eastern DRC’s forests, life was worsening by the second. All the children were frighteningly losing weight. However, there was one hope, they were at Kigongo, a Congolese city closer to the Kenyan border. That hope got shattered by Ntibonera’s father’s decision to go to Kenya alone to ensure the family would be safe after crossing the border.
Ntibonera felt betrayed by his father’s decision, he was “abandoning” his pregnant mother with 5 children under 8. Later, he understood they would have been “worse off” if he didn’t taste the Kenyan waters.
With his father gone, Ntibonera became the paternal figure at just eight years old. Although occupying this new role in the family, he was still scared by the unfamiliar noise of his mother’s water breaking.
“I was eight years old, cutting the umbilical cord with a machete I found on the floor,” he said.
Right there, Priscilla was born. Her name means “light” because she brought joy in the midst of chaos. Despite everything happening, Ntibonera’s focus was on how he and his siblings were walking barefoot through venomous plants and pain.
I was intrigued and asked him why the absence of shoes was his obsession.
He answered, “Ketura, you would not get it. To this day, no pain has ever equalized that pain.”
One thing their father did before leaving for Kenya was sell their house and leave Ntibonera and the rest of the family the money.
“The reality is a lot of husbands dissociated themselves from their families because militias would force them to rape their daughters, or their wives publicly,” Namujimbo says.
He explained the UN would prioritize monoparental families. Some believed it was best for mothers to be alone with their children to receive better treatment.
New life but make it Kenyan style
Three months had passed. Ntibonera was convinced his father had died, but his mother kept repeating “my soul knows he is alive.”
“My mother’s gut is never wrong,” he said.
Six months later, their father came back bearing good news: they were crossing the border to Kenya and would be taken care of by international organizations. At least, that is how the refugees there seemed to be receiving help. Camps were a massive “no” to the family.
Once they made it to the Kenyan border, another misery occurred.
“It was not enough to not have a home anymore, or no food or water,” he said. “We now had to deal with Kenyan discrimination.”
“The Kenyan border patrol was rejecting refugees and shooting those who were rebellious enough to disobey,” Namujimbo said.
Ntibonera believes it was divine protection that saved his family when they were waiting at the border. Two more siblings were born at the border.
After three years, they were finally crossing the border to Kenya. Their destination, Nairobi, was about a two day walk away.
They reached Nairobi, where life was not what they expected. They lived in extreme poverty. The family was unable to gather around a single meal per day. Education was key, so the parents would use the money given by the UN to pay school fees. They were a family of 10 at that point, and Emmanuel was about to have another sister.
“I was confused about why my mother kept adding to our burdens by giving me more siblings,” he said.
Having many siblings helped the family socially. They built a strong bond amongst themselves during their journey to Kenya and onward to the final destination; the USA.
School in Nairobi was full of bullying for the Congolese children. Language was a heavy barrier. The case they built to go to the USA was constantly rejected by the American authorities. The parents could not work because of their refugee status. Their father had a friend living in the USA who was helping with their case. The only good news was the family learned English during their time in Kenya. This was a huge step towards strengthening their potential approval to be welcomed to the USA.
Overall, two things remained: faith and hope.
I asked, “Was it not going to be easier to build a case if your family had gone through a refugee camp ?”
“Camps were the worst-case scenario. My sisters would have been raped, I would have died,” he said. “Kakuma camp? We had friends there, and their lives were horrifying.”
Namujimbo added that camps were similar to hell.
The family moved to a small town called Pangani, in Nairobi’s suburbs, and lived there for five years. The room was clean, neighbors were friendly, and the new school was better. They spoke perfect English by then. Nevertheless, resources were few, and every day was a blessing or a curse depending on the money they had.
USA: Safe haven
The Ntibonera family kept applying for admission to the US as refugees.
“In January 2009, I came home and I saw my parents dancing to praise songs. I was confused,” Ntibonera said. “We had gotten approved and were moving to the US.”
It was good news, but Ntibonera could not help but feel anxious. Another move, another crossing, another culture, another adaptation; all these things were ruminating through his mind. He was sad, but seeing the joy in his parents’ eyes cheered him up.
Fast forward to packing and making it back to Nairobi’s city center. They had to go through medical examinations and receive clearance. The process and paperwork took five months.
Namujimbo explains the process’ length can vary depending on the willingness of the American agent who takes care of the case.
“Your life is still blurry until you actually get into the plane,” he adds.
In July 2009, they set foot on American soil. Needless to say, the family was intimidated. When they got closer to the border control at the airport, they were scared of the officers in fear of being rejected again. The process went smoothly. They got into a new apartment in Nashville, Tennessee. The place was spacious; their parents could work, and the children could attend school. They received their green cards first. Years later, they became American citizens. According to Emmanuel, the process from green card to citizenship was the “least difficult”.
“For once, we were normal and could blend in. We were not refugees; we were citizens,” Ntibonera said. “It wasn’t easy to integrate, but at least I saw peace in the eyes of my parents.”
His lesson was to always give back. He felt like their lives were not the worst thanks to faith but also because his parents never stopped sharing even when they had nothing. At 30 years old, he has a master’s degree in finance and is married. He went back to the DRC three years ago and was sad to see his village was still at war.
“I realized the situation in Bukavu is not better at all,” he proceeds “I just felt more powerful holding that blue passport in my hand.”
Shoe bearer
Ntibonera created the Ntibonera Foundation with his family to help the children who are victims of the Congo War. They primarily focus on collecting worn shoes to ensure the least amount of children walk barefoot when fleeing from their hometowns. Every year, they send shoes back to the Bukavu province.
“We have sent more than 30000 pairs to Congo. That is my way to give back so no child, victim of war, walks barefoot in the trenches,” he said.
“From barefoot to shoe-bearer. That is how my people call me.”