Master class in hope : Gabriel Vockel

by Gabriel Vockel

Children who often suffer the most – yet they are also the ones who play and innovate their way into a better future. Kalemie, Tanganyika province, DR Congo, November 2017

It was just weeks away from Christmas of 2017 when I was tasked to coordinate a first child protection response to massive internal displacements in south-east DR Congo. As “officer-in-charge” of the child protection section, I felt like an imposter – and did the humble best I could.

Entire communities were fleeing from violence, death, and destruction. Hundreds of thousands on the move, looking for shelter. Leaving their houses and little belongings behind – to be plundered by the different armed groups involved, fighting over access, resources, power. Many wounded, physically, psychologically – Congo was infamous for sexual violence being used as a weapon of war. 

At the end of a long day, the sun having set, I decided to visit one more of the impromptu camps. In the middle of the city of Kalemie, some 4000 families were huddled together in the backyard of an old factory – while thousands of other freshly arrived families were holding out in other nearby sites, and dozens of thousands more in others outside the city.

I knew conditions were horrendous – but it was as if I needed to see with my own eyes how these people could possibly be out in the open at night. A rather cold wind blew relentlessly over Lake Tanganyika as if to let them know the coming weeks would be tough. 

As I walked through the site, warmly greeted, welcomed as a guest (or perhaps just another stranded soul?), I saw these two boys. Sitting tightly together under a mosquito net, possessing practically nothing other than the clothes on their bodies. They held a tiny LED bulb which they had cleverly connected to old batteries. 

As darkness took over, I could see it, feel it. The darker it got, the brighter their light seemed to shine. The colder it got, the more they seemed to warm each other. Nothing around them mattered. A moment of grace, warmth, love, and hope.

I often look at this image. It reminds me of an important lesson I must never forget. If these two boys didn’t lose hope, how could I ever dare? How could we dare, as (highly privileged) UNICEF staff? I want to remember more often that I ought to live a life of significance. To make a difference with what I have, where I am, that matters to those around me. The wonderful Sir Ken Robinson put it well: “What you do for yourself dies with you when you leave this world, what you do for others lives on forever.” 

I am grateful to be able to contribute to UNICEF’s mission – as this is one of the best ways I know I can do this. I wish there was no need for camps to house displaced children and families. But if there is, wherever I am, I want to help build more. 

N.B.: For more photos and stories, feel free to visit www.gabrielvockel.com 

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