Diamonds Fund Cycle of Violence in Africa

UMCOR Advance Story of the Month, August-September 2001

These women are greeting visitors to the Manjamba Clinic in Sierra Leone. The clinic, which was overrun by both government and rebel forces during the war, has now been reopened.
Credit: Paul Dirdak, UMCOR, 2001

"Do You Know Where Your Diamond Has Been?" So begins an advertisement that UMCOR placed in the July 2001 issues of Mother Jones, The Christian Century, and Christianity Today magazines.

The ad conjures up others we have heard on television and radio concerning safety and cleanliness like: "It's ten o'clock; do you know where your children are?" and "Do you know where those hands have been?" These are questions that evoke images of violence and contamination. What have these images to do with diamonds? All too much.

Conflict diamonds, also known as "blood" diamonds, make up 10 to 15 percent of the international diamond trade. They are indeed associated with violence and filth.

In Sierra Leone, rebel soldiers gained control of diamond-rich areas by terrorizing the population. They terrorized people into compliance. Civilians were brutally murdered, raped, and mutilated. Those who survive are maimed emotionally and physically. Many have had their limbs hacked off by machetes. Thousands of children, women and men in Sierra Leone are learning to live without their hands, arms, legs, noses, ears, or lips.

Two stories from this tragedy are similar to others that have been told over and over:

• A little girl and her 26 year old mother arrived at a clinic with no hands between them. The mother was beside herself with worry for her daughter who was obsessing over her stumps. The girl was convinced that by sheer force of will, she could grow another pair of hands.
• A faithful doctor remained in Freetown to care for the dying and the maimed throughout the weeks of terror. He found case after case of women and children whose amputations had been botched--instead of being cut off, their limbs had been mangled beyond saving. The doctor had to amputate so many hands that he did not know how to dispose of them.

Then there is this story of forgiveness, told to a group of visiting United Methodists visiting an amputee camp in Sierra Leone in February of 2000. Muctur Jalloh, a student in his 20s, served as chairperson of the camp. Jalloh's right hand and right ear were cut off. He said the rebels severed his right hand instead of his left because they knew he was a student and the loss of his right hand would be a greater handicap. Later, he had the opportunity to meet the man who had mutilated him. The man didn't remember Jalloh at first, but when he did, the former rebel offered the student money.

"I don't want your money," Jalloh replied. "I have forgiven you and have peace in my heart; you don't."¹