JEEP IS CALLING

Art and Prayer Journey to Asmara 

This is a picture taken in front of Enda-Mariam - St. Marry church - in Asmara just before the Ethio-Eritrean war. (The round insert is in Keren). I have been wishing to go back to this spot and pray for joy when peace opens the barred road to Eritrea. It has been a long time waiting. And there is no sign that this will happen anytime soon. But, why wait? Why not make it happen? This seems a sheer wish for an Ethiopian living in Ethiopia. If we the people collaborate, however, there is no reason it won’t happen. I am proposing a prayer and art Journey of Ethiopians and Eritreans for Peace (JEEP), for us to go to Asmara, and for Eritreans to come to Addis Ababa, to pray- and sing-along, and, in so doing, to create an opportunity for divided families to reunite and give impetus for the political peace process.

I was in Tigray, at a village called Mai-Nebri, when the Ethio-Eritrean war broke. Following an ordinary countryside evening, I and my colleagues woke up early (for our fieldwork) to be unpleasantly surprised by caravans after caravans of tanks and other heavy artillery entirely new to us. We later heard the media announce what was happening: war is coming!     

The very evening the war gong sounded that unexpectedly, a number of village mothers gathered, and, walking on their bare knees and hands on Mai-Nebri’s gravelly ground, made prayers deep into the night, unrestrained by the pain and the flood of blood flowing from their knees and hands – pleading God to stop the war that came so suddenly, not to take away the peace they started to enjoy after many years of suffering, and to spare their children that fatefully escaped the previous war. Those mothers’ pious and fervent prayers made even the unbelieving among us to bow down to pray.

That was the closest I experienced a looming war. The contrast was striking! There are these mothers that shed blood and tears so that the war may not come, and there are those forces marching to shed blood and tears for the war. This is a small village. One can only wonder how many more people were praying so fervently nationwide. That this prayer did not stop the war never made me consider it a wasted innocence. On the contrary, as a believer in the potency of prayers, I opted for thinking that it must have contributed for the salvation of the numberless souls slaughtered, and for the strengthening of many hearts and families shattered, by the war.

A few months earlier, I and my colleagues were in Eritrea for a work-related visit. We entered Asmara as evening approached. Members of the Eritrean army stopped our friends following us in another vehicle and took them to their quarter for questioning. As we later learned, the reason was that they were driving when the national flag was being pulled down. Learning that they were visitors, the army released them without much trouble.

When our visit started next morning, I got out in a traditional costume, with a ribbon of Ethiopian flag on my hat. Some of my cautious friends were quick to advise me to remove the flag, afraid that Eritreans may not be too pleased to see the Ethiopian flag in their land as their wounds that ‘this flag’ gave them did not yet heal. I didn't heed their advice, thinking to myself, a people that respects its flag so much should similarly respect the flags of other people; or at least allow other people to show respect for their own flag. You may consider this naiveté, knowing that people burn the flags of other nations to express their anger and they may not spare the person that caries it high when they do. 

For nearly a week, I walked around with the ribbon of the flag on my hat. The fears of my friends did not materialize. No Eritrean, in the city or in the countryside, showed me an unpleasant face because of the flag. In Asmara, an old Ethiopian lady saw the flag and approached me to express her joy to see her flag in public and her wish to return home. Otherwise, our time in Eritrea was entirely in a feeling of fellowship, seasoned by the Ethiopian music that we used to hear in nearly every hotel we visited, at times singing along with Eritreans, as some of us prayed by their side in churches, mosques, or devotional centres. This humble experience was a confirmation to my belief that the incidences of the time are powerless to sever the deeply rooted ties between the two people.    

Later, when I arrived in China for a study, it was an Eritrean guy that received me. This Eritrean, an ex-freedom fighter at that who participated in the later Ethio-Eritrean war as well, was my dorm-mate nearly two years. Our political or nationalistic side was only the smallest, an undefining aspect of our relationship. My friend’s sense of humour, the harrowing recollections of his fighting days that he used to tell me, the traditional music we joyfully shared, and the prayers we chanted together, all of which constituted the greater part of our human interactions, might have helped remove the barriers that could have been hidden in our hearts. The road of forgiveness and understanding was the natural and the most fulfilling choice for us.      

Whenever the issue of the Ethio-Eritrean peace process is mentioned, I think of the many mothers that are praying fervently, like the mothers of Mai-Nebri, for a glimpse on the faces of their beloved and are feeling frustrated thinking their prayer may not be answered. I think of the joyful times I had in Eritrea. I think of individuals on both sides, like the lady I met in Asmara, who endlessly wait with the hope of returning home. I think of people like my dorm-mate who are ready to rise above their painful memories and hold on to the stronger roots that unite than divide us.

Obviously, my experiences and memories are humble compared to the heart-rending experiences and memories of thousands. But they are more than enough to prove to me that there are many people at both sides desiring reunion, despite the anger and redness-of-face in the political realm; more than enough to make me ask: is the relationship between countries not the relationship between people and individuals as well? Why should this human relationship be denied voice to the extent that it appears non-existent? Aren’t we people that prefer to define ourselves spiritually than materially? Why should we allow the smallest part of our being define our personal and national relationships? If we give a greater public expression to the human side of Ethio-Eritrean relationship, couldn’t it energize and help speed up the political peace process?

As I mentioned earlier I am proposing a public movement, born out of my reflections such as the above, to initiate people to people collaborations and enable the political peace process find momentum. I have been thinking of this for quite long. Earlier, the time did not feel right. The political will expressed by our Prime Minister recently suggested to me that this should be the time to try to realize it.

The idea is simple. I, my Facebook friends, and their friends that support this idea will:

·         Ask 500 to 1000 individuals to sign up to make a prayer and art journey to Asmara, and for Eritreans in Eritrea to make a similar journey to Addis Ababa.

·         When we get the required number of supporters from both countries, plan and organized our efforts, involving artists and other volunteer people of influence at both sides, and try to get the attentions of relevant institutions in both countries.

·         Ask the relevant institutions of the two governments to give us permission, and approach AU, the UN, and other concerned organizations to give us assistance we may need.

·         Publicly fix an official date for the journey, and, accompanied by AU and/or UN peacekeeping forces if need be, make the journey of peace on land to hold a prayer vigil and an art and fellowship day with Eritreans of all religions and walks of life in front of Enda-Mariam or another public space.

·         On our return, have the signed-up Eritreans make a similar journey to Addis Ababa and hold the prayer vigil and the art and fellowship day at Maskal Square or at another selected public space.

·         Continue organizing this voyage for peace, this Journey of the Ethiopian and Eritrean for People for Peace, annually or biannually until the broken relationship between the two people is fixed and is re-established on a firmer foundation. 

Friends who support this idea, please ‘like’ and/or ‘share’ it with your friends. As soon as we get reasonable number of supporters, we will choose volunteer organizers in different areas of our work wherever they may be, who mainly work in their spare times from their homes using our Facebook and other social media pages until the time our move requires full time commitment.

With the interest of giving a public base for this peace effort, I did not share the idea with any institution or media. I believe the institutions and the media that support the idea will respond to this call and will make their own contribution to the realization of the JEEP.

First, let us show what we as individuals could do. Let's also show how much social media friendships may mean. I thank all of you who assist this effort in any way you could in the name of those families who suffer the separation they didn’t choose. This is JEEP – the Journey of Ethiopian and Eritrean People for Peace.  Just like the robust vehicle Jeep, created at war time for use on poor roads or open terrain, our alliance should expect, and be prepared for, a hilly and muddy terrain. Sooner or later, JEEP shall conquer its road, however much bumpy that might be! Selam!