“When I didn’t accept his offer, and he realized that I knew he was responsible for my husband’s death, he decided to hunt me down.”
“My husband was a General and a talented musician. He was killed by a government leader, another General and his boss, after his friends became jealous of him. I knew who had killed him because I was on the phone with him right before he was killed, and he told me who was with him. The killer assumed I would press charges, so he pretended to be my friend. That following Tuesday, my husband’s boss invited me over to visit. He told me he was really sorry for what happened to my husband and expressed interest in helping me. He said he wanted to give me my husband’s position; I would be the second in command after him. I told him that I didn’t know how to use a gun so I didn’t understand how I could be second in command under him in the military. He offered to train me. I told him I would think about it. I didn’t know what was in his mind, but I didn’t like it. When I didn’t accept his offer, he realized that I knew he was responsible for my husband death and decided to hunt me down.
I went to Brazzaville to visit with a friend of my husband's who knew a lawyer that could help me. I told the lawyer everything that happened. The lawyer said I was lucky to find my husband’s body because my husband's boss typically buried bodies in his house after he killed people. I was so disgusted. The lawyer told me not to worry and that he was going to help me. What I didn't realize though is that he was working for the same General in Congo that offered me the position and was responsible for the death of my husband. When I left his place, he called his boss and told him everything I had said. Shortly after this meting, people started following me.
We held a funeral in our home for one week after my husband’s death. Because my husband was a well respected man, many people came to our home to pay respects. One day, six military men came to visit my family. I was inside with family members and friends at the time, and they were outside drinking beer they had brought. Soon, one boy came to tell me that people were fighting outside. The men knew they could not hurt me inside where a lot of people would see. When I went outside, I asked them why they were fighting when they had come to pay respects to their brother and friend.”
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“Everyone who stood up to help me was killed.”
“The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital. I asked what had happened. The men that were at the funeral had beat me up and hit my face with the back of their guns. They were sure I had died because I was pregnant and was not very strong at the time. I was taken to the hospital to receive treatment. I didn’t feel any pain because my whole body was paralyzed. My face was numb and swollen and everything on my face dropped to one side. At that time, I was seven months pregnant, so the doctors could not give me anesthesia or effectively treat me. While waiting to give birth, my condition continued to get worse. I could not write, I could not talk, I could not eat. My children had to feed and shower me.
The baby came early. The day after I gave birth to my daughter, I went to the hospital because I was dying. My eyesight was blurred and I saw multiples of everything. When I arrived at the hospital, they took me into surgery right away. I did not receive anesthesia because my body was already numb. The infection that they removed from my face was red, black, and yellow. Everyone in the hospital thought it smelled like a dead body. The doctors could not believe that I survived with the infection in my head. I had to spend one week in the room by myself and the only contact I had with another human was with the nurses that came in with masks on to drain liquid and changed the bandages on my face. I was given an injection and antibiotic every day. Finally, my children and family could see me.
While I was in the hospital, the men who beat me up came to my house and took everything. There was a journalist who wrote a newspaper about my story. He and his family were killed. Everyone who stood up to help me was killed.The Red Cross helped me with medication, massages, and taught me to work again.
I decided to move from Brazzaville to Bangil in Central Africa. I did not know anybody or where I was going. God helped me a lot. I was in Cameroon for four months. My story was all over the TV and newspapers. At that time, I could not write my story because I was crying all the time. I could not say anything, I just cried 24 hours a day. I did not know what to do so I decided to fast for three days and ask Heavenly Father to give me peace and to help me stop crying. Then after my fasting I started to change and started getting better. Now is a good time for me to write my story and I hope it will help other people with similar challenges. I did not know that one day I would be a widow and that I would leave my country and find a place where life was good..”
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“I spoke only two words in English, ‘No’ and ‘Yes.”
“In 2005, I got on a plane to leave Africa with my nine children. I cried and wondered where I was going. On the flight from France to New York, everyone was asking me in English why I was crying. I could not understand them which made me cry more. When we landed in Salt Lake City, they took us directly to Ogden. I only spoke two words in English, ‘No’ and ‘Yes.’ My initial response to everything was ‘Yes.’ When I said ‘Yes’ too much I changed my ‘Yes’ to ‘No.’ One day someone called me on phone and at the end of our conversation I said ‘Yes.’ Newspapers started being delivered to my house and eventually a big bill came in the mail. I called my friend, Anne, and she came and helped me with the bill. Anne called the newspaper company, and they told her that I said 'Yes', and that I wanted to subscribe. My friend told me not to say ‘Yes’ to anything. So, from that day on it was ‘No.’
When I first moved to America there were a lot of foods that were different and hard for me to eat, such as pizza. Now I enjoy pizza and I can speak English, even though it is still not perfect. My kids speak without an accent and never speak French. When I speak, they always laugh at and correct me. Because I can speak English now, I am free and I am happy to be here. When I try cooking African food, my children say, ‘We are not African, just cook food from here.’
Out of my nine children, I have five that are married and I have five grandkids. My four oldest children have college diplomas in law, health administration, and business. My fifth child is studying mechanical engineering and was married in an LDS temple last year. I put myself through school three years ago and received a degree in social work at Weber State. I currently work with a refugee resettlement agency and oversee the Congolese community in Ogden.
I became a widow at age 36 and have never remarried because I can not bear the thought of losing a man again. I am currently writing a book about my story and have already written 70 pages. There are so many details and I could take three days to tell it all. My future dreams are to be happy, watch my kids grow up and get married, keep working hard, buy a house and car, travel, and continue to go to church”
__________
From: Congo
Current Location: Utah
Family: 9 children
Age: 50
