https://international.la-croix.com/news/survivors-of-boko-haram/4619?utm_source=Newsletter&utm_medium=e-mail&utm_content=04-02-2017&utm_campaign=newsletter__crx_lci&PMID=3d4bff6e21bd8a4c42e60d5186400d8e
Survivors of Boko Haram Victims of this terrorist organization number in the millions in Nigeria. Photographer Chris de Bode traveled to Yola to tell the stories of the survivors, some of them girls and young women aged between four and 20 years old. Laurent Larcher February 4, 2017 Stella, 13. The trauma experienced by the girls is deep. Sometimes, younger girls like Stella prefer to remain silent regarding their suffering. "How did I get here? What happened to me? I prefer to keep that to myself. It is too hard to talk about it," she says. "I can only tell you that I am safe here with my parents, my brothers and sisters." / Chris De Bode/LAIF-REA Chris de Bode, a photographer known for his passion for football and cycling in Africa, has been covering humanitarian issues ever since the work he did on the impact of AIDS in South Africa in 2008. His series on the victims of Boko Haram was in response to an invitation from the Dutch Relief Alliance (DRA), an NGO specializing in humanitarian interventions in crisis zones. He flew with the DRA to Yola in northeastern Nigeria to photograph displaced persons who had fled Boko Haram. “About 2.6 million people left their homes because of this insurrection,” he says. “They either sought refuge abroad or are displaced within Nigeria, as in Yola.” They are surviving in poor regions, in precarious, ill-equipped installations. And all have lived through terrible experiences. The stories of the children, particularly the girls, are especially dramatic, They have been raped, subjected to forced marriages, sold, enslaved. “Since the start of the insurrection, thousands of children have disappeared in the northeast of Nigeria,” recounts the photographer. “The Islamists abduct them to wage a lopsided war. The girls, the youngest of whom are eight years old, can also be used in suicide attacks.” In Yola, de Bode found a groundswell of generosity towards the displaced persons. “Close to 90% found refuge with private persons,” he notes. “They share their homes, food, and water. They give them love and affection.” For the photographer, it’s a lesson in life. “The hospitality I saw in Yola should be an example for the whole world. “My photos show that people, whatever their means and living conditions, are capable of supporting each other through the mere force of their humanity.” Stella, 13. The trauma experienced by the girls is deep. Sometimes, younger girls like Stella prefer to remain silent regarding their suffering. "How did I get here? What happened to me? I prefer to keep that to myself. It is too hard to talk about it," she says. "I can only tell you that I am safe here with my parents, my brothers and sisters." / Chris De Bode/LAIF-REA Naomi (4): She remembers those men who were shooting at people. She hid to escape from them. And then, she was able to flee with her mother and father. She walked for a long time. “I tried to think of nice things,” she says, “like my favourite colour, red, the soup that I really like, or my dream to become a cook. I love food.” Mairo (11): Mairo was a pupil who did her best in school until the day the armed men arrived in her village. She says they started by killing “all the men in the mosque”. One day, all the women, from 7 to 70, were assembled. They were going to be forced to marry soldiers. Mairo was able to escape one night. Susan (14): Susan speaks readily about the ties that bind her to her companions in misery. “I’m convinced we’ll be friends for life,” she says. “We understand one another without having to explain anything.” Sometimes she and her friends talks about the people still missing or murdered. “It’s our way of keeping their memory alive,” she explains. Asta (20): Asta is happy today because she is to get married in a few days. She met her future husband in a bank in Yola. Had she not been able to escape from her abductors, her life would have been different. “My mother was taken prisoner with me,” she says.” We never heard from her again.”