Lebanon - Sudanese Choir Makes Change At Church

[Nishee]

Sudanese choir makes a change at church
Catherine Redden gets an insight into a refugee community that needed to be
heard

When two buses trundled through the gates of All Saints Anglican Church in
downtown Beirut last Sunday and disgorged a Sudanese choir, a large drum kit
and an electronic keyboard, it was clear this was going to be no ordinary
Sunday morning service.
Members of Lebanon’s Sudanese community could be seen converging from all
directions on the small Zeitouneh church to attend the service of prayer for
Sudan. Women with tiny plaits incorporated exotically into their hairstyles
stood around chatting, a few wearing lawa ­ the Sudanese ethnic dress of
brightly colored fabric.
Regular members of the congregation drew their elbows in and squeezed up to
make room for the visitors. A buzz of anticipatory conversation lent an
animated air as proceedings got under way with an introduction from the
associate vicar of the International Congregation, the Rev. Nigel Schibild.
As the choir master raised his hand in the air and launched into the first
hymn, children with multi pigtails played in the aisles, while three Sudanese
contended for the best video recorder shots. This was indeed a departure from
the regular ­ and rather orderly ­ Anglican morning service.
The theme of the service was to pray for peace in Sudan, and also to focus on
displaced Sudanese and the difficulties they face. Children wearing red bow
ties and white blouses sang: “Oh it’s time to pray so hard, and maybe there
will be a better day for you and me.”
A poignant reading described the suffering in Sudan: “Sudanese people are
helpless, forced away from home. They live in other lands with no place to call
their own.”
Some members of the Sudanese community have become regular participants at the
Anglican church, and this has fueled the interest in the community that
culminated in Sunday’s service. The Sudanese were grateful for the
opportunity to acquaint the international congregation with their situation.
“Today is a unique day and I’m delighted. It’s good to have the spiri-
tual encouragement,” said Deng Bak, who regularly attends services at the
Anglican church.
“More people turned up from the Sudanese community than I expected,”
commented Schibild. “I think they appreciated other people outside the
community thinking about them.”
Sudanese refugees started arriving in Lebanon in significant numbers five years
ago. Estimates of the number of displaced Sudanese here vary from 3,000 to
6,000. Many of them reach Syria first, and from there find their way ­ often
illegally by being smuggled over the mountains ­ to Lebanon. They are among
many of their compatriots who have fled the 15-year old civil war between the
Christian minority in the south, and the Muslim majority in the north which
imposed Islamic law on the entire country in 1983. Many Christians have been
imprisoned and persecuted, and others have been forced to flee the country. An
estimated 5-7 million Sudanese are either emigrants or refugees scattered
around the world.
The service went on longer than usual, so it was only those with real stamina
who lasted out the program of traditional Sudanese songs and music put on in
the church hall after the service. There was also a chance to buy Sudanese
handicrafts such as woven baskets and batik tablecloths made in Lebanon. Art
work was displayed including ink drawings and wood carvings depicting tribal
symbols.
Many of the Sudanese who have escaped to Lebanon had hopes of being able to
study here. Samson Kabbashi, who is coordinator of an informal committee for
Sudanese refugees, said that under an earlier regime, he was awarded a
scholarship to study in Syria. This was terminated after his arrival here in
1990.
He ended up cleaning apartments for four years until he found a church
organization willing to sponsor him to study theology.
“We used to hear there was work in Lebanon to make it possible to earn fees
to study at the same time,” said Samuel Domkoc. “The opposite is true, and
I’m trying to earn enough to survive.” Like many of his compatriots, Domkoc
has applied for refugee status to the United Nations High Commissioner for
Refugees, but is still awaiting the outcome.
Samuel lives in cramped conditions, sharing accommodation with four others.
They find menial jobs washing dishes, and cleaning ­ working long hours and
making only enough to get by on. If they are refused refugee status, they will
be unable to rise from the lowest rung of the labor ladder. And since they have
no legal status, they are unable to leave the country. As illegal immigrant
workers they can easily be rounded up by the authorities and put in prison.
The criteria for awarding refugee status are strict and only an estimated 500
to 600 Sudanese have been recognized as asylum seekers by the UNHCR. Even then,
the relief organization’s funds are limited and they only offer $150 per
month to families, while single refugees receive nothing.
The refugees have only two solutions to hope ­ and pray ­ for. One is that
peace will return to their strife-ridden country so they can go home.
The other is they will be part of a resettlement program under the UNHCR and be
sent to a third country to start a new life.