On October 6-17, Stephen M. Colecchi, director of USCCB’s Office of International Justice and Peace, traveled to Zambia, Malawi and Tanzania as part of an ecumenical delegation of Christian leaders sponsored by Bread for the World. This is the first of a four-part series in which Dr. Colecchi shares his experiences of Africa, where he witnessed firsthand the plight of poverty and malnutrition faced by many people, especially children.

The contrast could not have been starker: tiny listless children, two in each hospital bed, attended by their concerned mothers; jubilant women chanting and dancing as smiling children angled to get their pictures taken.

I encountered both poignant scenes during a recent visit to Zambia, Malawi and Tanzania with an ecumenical delegation of Christian leaders sponsored by Bread for the World. In a way the two images capture both the problem and the solution to mother and child nutrition. Our delegation visited these African countries to learn more about the 1,000 days movement, which aims to improve maternal and child nutrition during the critical first 1,000 days of life from conception to age two.

Read the full post here.

People travel by boat to the flood-affected community of Agok in South Sudan. Photo by CRS staff

George Okoth,

The mid-September rains completely washed out road access to the town of Agok, South Sudan. This is the same area that only a few months ago received a wave of mass displacement after conflict sent thousands fleeing from the contested area of Abyei. Just as things began to settle, the rains once again forced people from their makeshift homes.

We arrived by car, by boat and by foot. The muddy roads only allowed our 4x4s to venture so far before we had to rely on the boats that would take us from one side of a vastly swollen river to another. The end of our trek consisted of a 3-mile walk to the town of Agok. Our walk was slow, hindered by the mud that stuck to our gumboots and made each step a heavy one.
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A welcoming committee greets a CRS team in New Yourpea, Nimba County, north central Liberia. Tens of thousands of refugees from Ivory Coast have crossed the border into Liberia, fleeing post election violence. Photo by Helen Blakesley/CRS

by Helen Blakesley

I’m writing this from a hotel room in Monrovia, the capital of Liberia. It’s raining cats and dogs, but that can’t drown out the sound of thousands of supporters, singing, dancing and shouting their political allegiance in the rallies going on outside.

I’m under strict instructions to “hibernate”—just in case. It’s the first round of the presidential elections this week, and, although Liberia has technically found peace, memories of the merciless 14-year civil war serve to remind that the situation here could well change in the blinking of an eye. The people I’ve spoken to are confident there won’t be trouble…but in reality, no one really knows.
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Catholic Relief Services staff was deeply saddened by the loss of lives in Tuesday’s blast in Mogadishu. We ask for your continued prayers and support of the Somali people during this difficult time. Our partners and projects were fortunately spared from the blast’s impact. We remain committed to supporting the people of Somalia as they face the ongoing famine in their country.

Sunset off the coast of Dakar, Senegal. Photo by Helen Blakesley/CRS

By Helen Blakesley

Being ill is rarely what I’d call fun. But feeling under the weather in a developing country … now that’s a whole new board game. Don’t get me wrong, I know how lucky I am, having (by sheer fluke) been born into a loving, solvent family in the developed world. But this week, while I was lying under my mosquito net, drenched in sweat, the water supply cut off and no electricity to turn the blades of my long-suffering fan … I must admit, I did throw myself what in the U.S. you might call quite a sizeable “pity party”.

Speaking to friends close at hand and loved ones far away helped pull me from the clutches of self-pity and frustration. As did turning to the meditations of Brother Roger of Taizé (yes, I’m a big fan!) The thought for that day was this:
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By Michael Hill
By all rights, the Missionaries of Charity Home for the Destitute and Dying in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia should be a depressing place. After all, the 1,000 people in here are almost all sick. And they are poor. Their sleeping quarters are crowded, beds nearly wall-to-wall. Some have physical ailments that might make you want to avert your gaze. Others are mentally challenged and behave erratically.

It is certainly not a place that makes you happy. These people have been dealt a tough hand by life. Few have smiles on their faces. On this cool afternoon, they are mostly sitting outside. Not listless, exactly, but hardly active. Some are in wheelchairs. Others remain in their beds in the wards.

The home is really two compounds, one for children, the other for teens to the aged. The occupants go from newborn infants to those near the end of long lives. Some are simply too poor to afford any sort of lodging during medical treatment in Ethiopia’s capital city. But many were abandoned by their families, too poor to care for, say, a handicapped child with mental issues; or for an elderly relative near death; or for an unwanted newborn.
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CRS Ghana’s Thomas Awiapo shares his thoughts on a workshop in Accra, Ghana organized by CRS and SECAM (Symposium of Episcopal Conference of Africa and Madagascar) to promote peaceful elections in Africa.

It might interest you to know that next year—2012—many African countries will be celebrating 50 years of independence, a time of nationhood and a time of self-governance. I’d like to say congratulations in advance to these countries. Also, between now and December 2012, 22 African countries will be holding presidential and parliamentary elections. Wow! This is so reassuring and a great sign of hope. Africa is gradually moving away from coups d’état—which have cost Africa many precious lives and have retarded development.
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This week has been a homecoming. I took a plane (well, two planes, a metro and a train, to be precise) back to my beleaguered country. England, so I’m told, is morally ‘broken’. The fabric of society has been destroyed.

Some say it’s the government’s fault for being too soft. Social Security is too easy to claim; we live in a climate that nurtures “parasites” who don’t want to work and expect everything to be given to them on a plate. Others claim the government doesn’t care enough about the disaffected. People from “tougher” backgrounds feel they have no stake in their own society.

Whatever the varied reasons for the unprecedented scenes on my country’s streets, I do know that for many, talk of a “moral vacuum” is an alien concept. Certainly at my Mum’s red brick church…where Margaret arranges the flowers every Saturday…and where a group meets each month to help those going through the pain of divorce. And aside from the shock-factor pictures and screaming headlines, I’ve been incredibly heartened to see clean up operations spontaneously organized, a sense of national pride reawakened and even gossip magazines launching appeals to help victims of the riots. The light of good is shimmering through.
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By Patrick Carney

My last hours in Kenya are coming to a close. I’ve just finished my work, and I think it was a great success. I was able to assist in getting two grant proposals written for Catholic Relief Services’ work during the East Africa Famine.

Although I am excited to come home, there will be things I miss about Kenya and our CRS offices in Nairobi. Take it from me, when you support CRS and our work around the world, know that the staffers in our international offices are great stewards. Our staff here is friendly, welcoming, thorough, very hard-working and passionate about what they do. I’ve been very impressed.
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By Patrick Carney

I traveled 7,500 miles to get here. Door to door, it took just over 24 hours. I am on a different continent and hemisphere, and I am below the equator. I couldn’t be much farther from home.

Yet, I feel like I am nowhere near the people suffering and dying from a historic drought and famine throughout parts of East Africa, and I am in Nairobi, only about 300 miles from the camps. That’s about the distance between my hometown, Philadelphia, and Boston. It’s a day trip in a car.

How can I be so close to the suffering, and feel so far away?

I get to sit in an office, go to a restaurant for lunch, drink bottled water, and take a taxi back to my modest hotel at the end of the day. Meanwhile, just a few hours northeast of here, people are sleeping in refugee camps fighting for their lives.
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