The Imam of Kidingir

Kidingir is a small Fur village, hidden in Gebel Marra, Darfur, Sudan. In 2005, I saw the most marvelous starry night in my life. No light in that lost village at the base of a mountain massif at the Western edge of the Kurdufan Desert. The local Imam was an old, kind man. He was about my height, slim. His eyes were alive and were expressing joy in having us there. It was not usual: we were white people, part of a cooperation mission in a place that had known war for decades. To reach the village, passing tracks in the desert, where the Janjaweed were pillaging the convoys, was necessary. He guested us in the big hut – beautiful – that was the Mosque. I felt a bit embarrassed: the sacrality of that place was so tangible, for me, despite the simplicity of the wood and mud structure and the empty, clean space inside. I could feel the prayers that the native people used to send when gathering together inside it. We decided to stay under the reeds canopy outside to respect the sacredness of the place. The old man discretely prepared us a chicken on the campfire for dinner. For respect, we ate it, even knowing that they did not have so much to eat in the village, and that was a great sacrifice for him to share that food with us. We exchanged words with our hands and smiles with our eyes before he left that evening to go back to his family. I looked at him leaving in the darkness that had already fallen on the place, sliding down from the mountain. Had he food enough for his family for that day? Was I able to be so generous to my fellow humans, with all I have, as a white man? Yes, we are so rich in "stuff" and money. Can I be rich in humanity as that Imam of a lost village in the heart of that vast continent?

That night I almost didn't sleep and stood in marvel, looking at the incredible amount of stars above me. I couldn't even recognize the constellations I was used to knowing since my childhood in the Alps. That night I think I understood the lesson of Compassion from that man. A brother human in a desert in Africa. We are all born in a place to be the keepers of that part of our Mother Earth. We have this responsibility everywhere. And we are responsible for welcoming every traveler, every human that decides to visit us where we live, making them feel at home. Our home is the entire Planet, and we should have – we do have - the right to go and stay where we feel better. And, yes, the obligation to be respectful.

If we want to survive, we should give up sovereignism, nationalism, and fear, and embrace the richness of life and the Earth, that we cannot measure just in money.