Angola #3: The Night the Soldiers Came

In October 2003 my wife and I attended a dinner to raise money to build schools in Angola. A month earlier I had been emotionally overwhelmed to learn of the country’s total devastation.

An Angolan pastor was the speaker at the fundraiser. I’ll never forget his opening sentence. “Let me tell you about the night the soldiers came.”

For the next 20 minutes the minister told a story my mind couldn’t grasp or imagine. He continued, “The soldiers came to our village in the middle of the night. I was asleep when there was a commotion outside my hut. I heard gunfire and screams of terror. The soldiers came to burn our huts, steal our property, rape our women, and kill us all.”

The family escaped to the tall grass outside their village. As they hid, they witnessed scenes of unspeakable horror. Suddenly, the soldiers started walking through the tall grass swinging their machetes. Fortunately, the family had moved to a line of trees.

The family fled to the safety of a refugee camp in the neighboring country of Namibia. To get there they swam across a crocodile infested river separating the two countries. Some refugees never made it; the crocodiles got them first.

Once again my heart went out to the Angolan people. So we made a donation hoping it would help in some way. But once again, I never thought of doing anything more.