Local activists bring a glint of hope to the Congo

30th June is a big day for the Democratic Republic of Congo. It marks 50 years since it won independence in a blaze of optimism, blessed with diamonds and copper and strategically set at the heart of the continent, ready to become a key player at the height of the cold war.

It’s also a day that marks that country’s descent into bloody chaos. On 30th June, the UN starts withdrawing its peacekeeping force—the largest ever—from war-torn eastern Congo. In the dense rainforests there, 19,000 peacekeepers have struggled to contain a vicious bush war whose ingredients include mines, abducted child soldiers, and militia troops high on hallucinogens.

In the space of those 50 years, neither stability nor prosperity have taken root in this resource-rich country. From the Western-backed assassination of its first president, the left-leaning Patrice Lumumba, through the US-backed kleptocracy of his champagne-popping successor Mobutu, to the vast civil war which sucked in most of Congo’s neighbours and left 5 million people dead, there has been a tragic history of failed interventions by outsiders.

Even UN peacekeepers have run into controversy; criticised for assisting the Congolese army, whose human rights record was questioned by the UN rapporteur himself. And now, at the request of the President, they are starting to withdraw, leaving behind all the dangers of a vacuum.

But there may be something different stirring. For 30th June also sees a much smaller, but perhaps prophetic event in eastern Congo: the unveiling of a "Wall Of Hope" carrying messages and testimonies from local and British people. It forms the centrepiece of a rolling campaign of stabilisation and disarmament run entirely by local Congolese people, who are trying to take the future into their own hands.

It’s fronted by Congolese activist Henri Ladyi, a local hero if ever there was one. Himself a past victim of kidnapping and torture by rebel militias, Ladyi has spent five years resolving conflicts in north Kivu, the epicentre of the bush war. Working alongside international peacekeepers and aid workers, his task forces of local volunteers have been combing the rainforest for rebels to disarm, resettling child soldiers with their families and preventing local conflicts before they spiral beyond control.

In the past year, Henri’s organisation, Centre Resolution Conflicts, has rescued 230 child soldiers from a life of gun battles and black magic, established 73 radio clubs to spread his message, resolved 152 local conflicts, given peace education to 5,700 church-goers and trained 60 teachers to teach peaceful conflict resolution.

In one dramatic episode, Henri rescued an entire township of 5,000 people that was besieged by forest militiamen, pursuading them to abandon their plan of attack and spare the villagers’ lives. In another, he bartered for 100 child soldiers with goats, one for one.

These are the kind of fast, flexible responses that get results because they are based on the insights and status of local people, rather than the creaking remote machinery of the international community. Here, as elsewhere in Africa, a new generation of citizens is beginning to abandon the aid dependency of the past and starting to build its own solutions.

So spare a thought for Ladyi’s Wall Of Hope on June 30. Or better still, post your own message on the Wall, at www.peacedirect.org/wallofhope. It could be a glimpse of a different future.