Category: Nefer

« À la prochaine » is a French colloquialism meaning “until the next time” or “till we meet again.” I intentionally used this phrase when saying goodbye to my family members, work colleagues, and fellow hostel guests because it felt like putting a semi-colon instead of a period to the end of my mission.

I was reluctant to give a conclusive goodbye because I knew I would find myself in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) once again. I hope to hold the aging hands of my precious grandparents once more, fill my plate with my aunt’s incomparable sweet plantains, and venture to other regions of the country including the magnificent waterfalls of Zongo Falls. I also hope to continue serving the DRC by supporting and leading efforts to strengthen public health capacity. Spending 5 weeks working alongside a hard-working team dedicated to minimizing infectious disease transmission, and consequently improving the nation’s public health, I have a more realistic perception of what a career in Global Health may look like for me.

This trip reaffirmed that I have a strong interest in improving inequities in health outcomes. I want to carry out this work by partnering with communities most impacted by public health inequities while cultivating and equipping leaders who are well-acquainted with the needs of their communities.

Not surprisingly, on the plane home, I found myself rewatching the 2018 Marvel film starring the late Chadwick Boseman, Black Panther. This film depicted the fictional African nation of Wakanda, which evaded the detrimental effects of colonialism and exploitation, allowing Wakandans to preserve their rich resources and thrive with technological innovations unbeknownst to the rest of the world. I didn’t realize how much satisfaction it brought me to see an African nation unhindered by a colonialist past, prospering from its abundant resources and ruled by a just leadership. I questioned why we accept inadequate healthcare and education access, violent conflict, poor governance, and pervasive poverty as an indefinite norm for any nation, and what would propel change.

This reflection fueled my desire to learn from and walk alongside people challenging the status quo, such as Dr. Chérie Rivers Ndaliko, a UNC professor who carries out work in eastern DRC within high-conflict zones to empower Congolese students to tell their own stories and advocate for change through artistic expression. Similarly, conversations with my brilliant colleague inspired me, who dreamed of opening his own business in the DRC but faced funding limitations and was discouraged by the lack of Congolese-produced goods. I gained hope from a new acquaintance from Burkina Faso who spent many years working with a local organization supporting peacebuilding efforts in the eastern DRC and is pursuing a degree in strategic peacebuilding and conflict transformation, refusing to accept what has become the norm and believing in the possibility for change. This hope extends to the young football players in front of my grandma’s house kicking up sand in an intense match among neighbors, perhaps a few may ascend to the world stage.

As I enter the final year of my master’s program, I am motivated to continue embracing discomfort and confronting complex challenges to redefine what’s considered normal. À la prochaine, DRC.

 

 

Nefer

I imagine a variety of impressions come to mind when people hear about the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC).

With increasing awareness of the violence and humanitarian crisis in eastern DRC, likely attributed to an uptake of social media coverage and hashtags such as #freecongo, images of conflict are impressed upon many.

For others, the rhythmic strum of an acoustic guitar alongside the swift tempo of percussion, or resonant sound of the Likembe, tempt the sway of hips, impressing the lure of Congolese rumba and other popular genres.

An impression that pleases the tongue is the variety of dishes featuring cassava leaves, smoked fish, palm oil, peppers, plantains, and fluffy beignets.

There is also the thought of the largest expanse of rainforests in Africa containing ripe mangoes, intelligent Bonobo apes, and the ever flow of great waterfalls.

All these images and more come to mind when I think about the place of my heritage. My parents emigrated from the capital city of Kinshasa in the 80s and 90s. They envisioned a future with plentiful opportunities and great education for their children. I’ve seen their sacrifices reap many blessings for my siblings and me, as we each enjoy the quality of life they dreamed for us.

I grew up as what some would call a “third culture kid,” meaning my upbringing was influenced by my parent’s Congolese origin in addition to the American communities I inhabited. The cultures and traditions I uphold are an amalgamation of these influences, and I find myself somewhere in the middle, not always quite sure where I fit. So, when I had the chance to visit the DRC for the first time in 2022, I was ecstatic. It was my first time meeting my Koko (grandma and grandpa) and larger family, who I had only seen through mailed photos and spoken to through phone calls and eventually WhatsApp video calls. My first trip was a short 10 days and I felt that I was in both a familiar and foreign place.

During this second visit, I am spending five weeks in Kinshasa completing my practicum with the Infectious Disease Epidemiology and Ecology Lab, within the UNC School of Medicine’s Institute for Global Health and Infectious Diseases. As an MPH candidate in Applied Epidemiology, I am supporting hepatitis B virus (HBV) prevention work in the DRC. I support a project that targets pregnant mothers and infants for care, a subgroup highly impacted by HBV and facing many barriers to accessing healthcare and medication. My role is to ensure data quality and completeness, develop reports on the significance of community health workers in this effort, and document effective strategies for patient retention and follow-up.

Working in-person has been invaluable as I get to strengthen my French-language skills, witness how pregnant mothers are educated on HBV at the clinic and celebrate with the local team when babies are reported as not having contracted HBV. The joys are balanced with difficulty as I recall the cries of an inconsolable mother who lost her child soon after birth, and the frustration of not being able to retrieve a mother for follow-up visits.

Joys balanced with challenges has been the theme of these past few weeks. Being here is complex, as I revel in the stories of how my mom sold fish at the market and helped care for her siblings, while disheartened by the apparent poverty and trash-filled canals. I’m encouraged by the efforts of Congolese artists and influencers highlighting the beauty of this grand country on social media platforms, while discouraged by the lack of Congolese-owned industries and exploitation of resources. I enjoy laughter with my colleagues, adding light to gray skies permeated by pollution during the dry season.

Being of Congolese origin but American nationality, I continue to wrestle with where I fit in while I am here. Just as I consider the many facets of what the DRC represents, I am learning to accept that I also represent many things. While I am here for just a few weeks, I choose the posture of serving a people and a place near to my heart through public health.

 

 

Nefer