At the Presbyterian University of Sheppard and Lapsley

UPRECO, the Presbyterian University of Sheppard and Lapsley, a school named for the two founders of the American Presbyterian Congo Mission, is located in Ndesha, a neighborhood on the outskirts of Kananga. Our host in Kananga is a professor at the school which has two colleges--theology and law, the latter a fitting tribute to the human rights work that Sheppard initiated to complement the evangelical work of the mission. Last Tuesday, I went there with the group, met a few people, and knew that I wanted to go back to give a presentation of my research on William Sheppard. I was really excited at the prospect of doing this sort of thing at a college that is named for him.

I brought my laptop and adapter, but needed to find a projector, which is quite a challenge in Kananga, which has the unfortunate distinction of being the world’s largest city (population 1 million) without electricity or running water. Through a friend in Kinshasa, I got in touch with his friend in Kananga who works for MONUC, the UN Mission in the Congo. He was in charge of the engineering department and was extremely gracious and told me he would have a projector for me the following day at 10am. The only stipulation was that I return it by 6pm or else the UN might have a serious disturbance on their hands. This same projector was being used in the evening to show the World Cup at the stadium. In a city without electricity, and a country as in love with soccer as DR Congo, the UN’s use of a generator and the projector to enable folks to watch the matches is a great service. And certainly one with which I did not want to interfere.

At the university, they have a diesel generator that they run three hours per day from 5:30 pm until 8:30pm. They agreed to turn it on during the daytime for my presentation, and there I was in the library at the Presbyterian University of Sheppard and Lapsley giving a presentation about the impact of William Sheppard in the US. The response was good. They asked about the Bakuba artwork that I showed, and I explained, as I have on similar occasions in the past, about what I consider the important work of remedying the wrongs of the colonial era through repatriation and reparations. I asked them what they would like to see done. At first I think they were a little surprised that I wanted to hear them, but I made it clear that they were better equipped to tell me about their needs and how we might meet those needs. We discussed what some of these might be--such as scholarships for Congolese students in the US and support for the development of independent educational institutions in DR Congo.

There was another question about what I was doing, which indirectly came out of a discussion the day before between members of the group I was traveling with and the university community. I will need to explain this dynamic in more detail in another posting--but, for now, this has to do with the nature of missionary work. One of the more vocal members of our group is extremely adamant that the Congo needs her to be here, in the old-fashioned missionary sense. I explained in response to the question which I received that I thought a bit differently, that the Congo does not need me, that I need the Congo more than it needs me and that I imagine the majority of my work taking place in the US. Through teaching students in the US about Africa, and writing in the US, I hope to work on behalf of the Congo. I don’t have any illusions about the impact such work might have, but I do believe that there are many things that can be done in the US to benefit the Congo. For example, there can be advocacy on the level of direct aid, World Bank programs, educational exchanges, trade agreements, and migration laws, all of which would at least minimize some of the damage that US is doing in this part of the world. There are movements for conflict-free diamonds (and other minerals) that folks could organize their churches to boycott retailers that market anything else. And direct aid projects are beneficial. For the cost of a US missionary or a Fulbright Scholar for that matter, a school here could hire a dozen local professors. I could work full-time in the US and support the salary of a teacher, who would do a better job than I could. Traveling around to former mission stations has shown me that foreigners, sometimes inadvertently, leave big footprints wherever they travel. And when the foreigners leave, their footprints remain.

Of course, I am teaching here currently, and no doubt leave footprints of my own. I even hope to return to teach and work with students and conduct research in the future. But I recognize the inability of my work to significantly benefit folks here in a concrete way. The needs are so pressing and great that the few things I have undertaken inevitably feel modest. I am not sure if mine is the best approach, but I think it is at least an honest one.

I did return the projector to MONUC in time for folks to watch Tunisia draw Saudi Arabia. The result feels much less impressive this morning after watching Tunisia fall apart in the final minutes of their match with Spain last night.