Return to the land of thirteen months

It has now been nine months since I left Italy to return, after 41 years, to what is officially my country of origin. I say this because after learning about where I was heading in Eritrea, many people congratulated me, saying, “Finally, you’re going back home”. Of course, I appreciated the kindness intended with these words, but deep down, I felt that if there was one thing I had learned in these 41 years spent outside Eritrea, it was precisely that I had learned to feel “at home” everywhere. I have never felt like an exile, but rather a citizen of the world. To return to Eritrea was like arriving in another world, to learn to know the country before finally feeling at home. Right from the start, I understood that the land I had left decades ago had completely changed. It is true that I recognized the places that reminded me of my childhood, but I had the impression that everything had shrunk. Apart from this obvious feeling, the impact was not so simple. Everything appeared new to me, sometimes foreign. The romantic notion of finally returning home clashed with a very different reality. There are sudden sensations, like scents and some flavors, that seem to take us back in time, but these sensations last only a fraction of a second... the few years I spent in Latin America and then the many in Italy have shaped a certain way of thinking and being. So it takes a lot of patience to adjust to a world that, although it is mine by birthright, sometimes feels distant. My Comboni sisters tell me that I need to have a lot of patience. However, I believe that they are the ones who need more patience with me.

Traveling Companion

The ministry for which I returned to Eritrea is that of Sister Provincial Superior, a traveling companion. The Province is made up of a nice group of elderly sisters, a small group of young women, and a few middle-aged sisters. In addition, there are ten operational communities. These first nine months have been a time an exercise in observation and listening: seeing, observing, trying to understand, and above all, being silent. For me, who is never at a loss for words, this last exercise has not been easy. 

During my visits to each community, it was important to listen. To listen to the dreams of the young, the advice of the elderly, and the concrete proposals of the middle-aged sisters. Through them, I was able to immerse myself in the life of the country; through them, I touched the lives of the people firsthand. So many stories, so many anecdotes, so much life lived.

Forty years ago, I left a country where religious institutions were considered the pinnacle of society. First in kindergartens, then schools, in the hospitals, dispensaries, sewing workshops, all the way to the university, the goal was to prepare young people to take the reins of the country and make them responsible citizens. Then, historical circumstances changed this course, and today all of this is no longer there. However, the indelible value imprinted in people’s lives remains. Moreover, I did not find discouragement or pessimism; on the contrary, I seemed to find a consecrated life that is aware of being called to strengthen more the essence than the actions.  In the meetings I had with the Conference of Major Superiors, both male and female, I sensed a desire to invent a new style of presence, thanks also to the synodal journey that encourages a moving away from obsolete patterns toward a renewed presence in lifestyle, leadership, and the very understanding of the Church. I sensed a new awareness among the religious women regarding the role of women in the Church. This is a positive outcome of the synodal process.

After 110 years of presence in Eritrea, today even we Comboni Missionary Sisters, are called to “Dwell in the Future, charting prophetic paths, supported by Saint Daniel Comboni,” as stated in the theme of the recently concluded Provincial Assembly. Charting prophetic paths means daring to take unprecedented steps, and often, it is the people we live with who indicate these steps to us. Indeed, from the stories of the sisters, I understood that people still believe in us religious women; and above all, they have not forgetten what they have received over these very long years. There are adults who attended our schools, and after many years, they still come to visit their sisters. It is heartwarming to see how, even in the peripheral missions, people ask us to stay, even though we do not have any grand works. The sisters from one community told me that when the kindergarten and dispensary were closed, the people promised to help them with firewood and grain as long as they did not leave. And so it was. The prophetic style generates miracles.

Call it Resilience if You Will

I have also found a country marked by the struggles of a global situation that has affected the lives of many peoples. In these months, I have met many people, especially women and children... everywhere and in everyone, one can sense a tenacity, a resilience, and a courage of a people who refuse to be overcome and are, in fact, seeking in a thousand ways to stand tall. 

On June 20, there was a commemoration for the “Martyrs of Eritrea”. These were young people who died during the thirty-year war for independence and thereafter. This experience deeply moved me and reflected the dignity of my people. That day, the country literally came to a halt. We Comboni Sisters wanted to be present, and we participated in the commemoration held in Asmara. We walked towards the square alongside dozens of people in an impressive silence. Many young people sat in a circle in the middle of the street, holding candles, singing or reciting poems in memory of the martyrs. It is difficult to express the feeling we experienced that evening, but it was certainly like receiving a pass to enter the heart of this land.

A Granite Faith 

The history of the people is marked by struggles, wars, and lives shattered in the Mediterranean. It might almost seem logical to find hearts hardened by such suffering. However, this is not the case. Perhaps it is the Eritrean culture, imbued with a millennia-old faith, which has shaped the lives of its people. One is left astonished to perceive this breath of faith. This is not a fatalistic or resigned faith; instead, it is a granite faith made of prayers, but also of contemplation—yes, contemplation, that ability to pray while turning to God and remaining silent listening for His Voice. 

In the little church in Asmara’s community, daytime adoration has been held for 70 years. Even after these months, I am still amazed when I enter to see young people, the elderly, women, and even children at all hours, coming in just to bow, others for silent adoration. I am struck by seeing mothers prostrated on the ground, imploring for peace. Every time I see them praying, I think of their sons and daughters far away, some lost in nothingness, of husbands in the trenches, of the struggles to live. Yet, once they rise, they are able to show me a serene face, a smile, and when asked, “How are you?” the answer is always and, “We thank God”. In other words, “Thank God, everything is fine”. Despite it all.

Synodal Style Ante Litteram

Every now and then, I am asked if I have any regrets. More than regrets, I sometimes feel nostalgia for the many people I have met in these 40 years with whom I have traveled a significant part of life. Sometimes I wish things had worked out differently, but then I remind myself that, after all, there is no other place like this. In Eritrea, the calendar marks seven years less than the Gregorian calendar, and the year consists of thirteen months, one of which is only seven days long; and a people who have a sacred language (Gheez) still used in daily Masses.  I think about the value that is still placed on communal life. Everything becomes a reason to be together to share joys, struggles, and sorrows. No one is left alone, neither in joy nor in pain. There is a collective participation that helps to overcome every situation that life presents, and I can see that this people has always embraced the synodal style, ante litteram. 

All in all, I feel fortunate. To have arrived here, at this moment. I feel fortunate when I can listen, even in 2024, on serene nights, to the haunting sound of a flute from some shepherd who, in the moonlight, is offering his notes to the wind. Therefore, after nine months, I feel that I am beginning to know and love this land, and to finally feel at home. Here too, just as everywhere else. 

by Elisa Kidanè
Comboni Missionary Sister, Asmara – Eritrea

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