Tonj: Tortured for Christ
“Tonj
had prayed that when the Muslim Militia or Janjaweed invaded,
“Please God, let me not be in the field or away from my family.
Make sure that I am at home and with them so that I can protect
them.”
Tonj is a man you would easily pass by without taking much
notice. He is not tall; he is not short. He is slight of build,
but not desperately thin. He is mid 40s. He diverts his eyes,
unless you hold them – then they are piercing. This piercing
happened to me when I first saw his right hand. It was not
just that his thumb was missing, but from his index finger
to his forearm was one smooth line, missing the thumb and
outer palm and wrist bone.
By this time, I had heard so many stories of rape, torture,
mutilation and murder that I was accustomed to staring into
blank, nearly dead faces of the tellers. In some ways this
made me very sad, like I wasn’t reaching the people – getting
to their Truth. In another way, it helped me to get through
the day for their emotional vacancy helped me to keep my own
emotions somewhat at bay. So I raised my eyes from Tonj’s
thumb-less hand expecting those same blank ‘fish eyes’. Instead
I was met with liquid eyes of depth, harnessed power and deep
pain. I knew this would be a difficult interview.
Tonj never raised his voice much higher than a deep whisper
during our entire time together. Humility and meekness sat
before me, with his legs crossed, determined to tell the story
of his wife and children. As the sole free survivor of his
family, I watched this man struggle to represent his family
with dignity.
Facing me, without ever breaking eye contact, I could feel
his searching of my face for sincerity. He would not prostitute
his family by trusting their memory to someone he did not
believe to be honorable.
For years before the attack upon his village, Tonj had prayed
that when the Muslim Militia or Janjaweed invaded, “Please
God, let me not be in the field or away from my family. Make
sure that I am at home and with them so that I can protect
them.” When the day of Janjaweed invasion came, Tonj was home.
But he found there was nothing he could do except watch the
violence unfold upon his family.
The Janjaweed rode swiftly on horseback, firing their machine
guns and rifles upon men, women and children of all ages.
Above even the screams and gun fire, Tonj could hear, “Allah
Akbar! Allah Akbar!” (Praise Allah! Praise Allah!) Many were
rounded up and forced inside tukels where they were burned
alive. The Janjaweed stood guarding all sides of the round
mud hut so that should anyone try to escape from the fire,
they would be shot.
Tonj tightened the huddle he had of his wife and five children
trying to shield their hearts from the violence as well as
protect their lives. Perhaps sensing Tonj’s intense love of
his family, more Janjaweed encircled the entire family then
ripped Tonj from their midst and pushed him to his knees.
There Tonj fell to the ground, on his face before the Janjaweed,
with his wife and five young children watching.
The Janjaweed beat Tonj with their pangas (machete) yelling
obscenities at him for being an infidel. They demanded from
him to call out, “Allah Akbar!” Tonj refused. He cried. He
looked at his family trying to say to them, “Be strong. Be
still. Pray and wait.” But only his eyes could speak.
The beatings went on and some of Tonj’s teeth were knocked
out with the Janjaweed pangas. Finally, Tonj raised his hands
up over his head to shield his himself. With his right hand
crossed over his left, the Janjaweed panga bore down on him
severing his thumb, outer palm and wrist bone in one clean
fell.
Disgusted with Tonj’s refusal to worship Allah, the Janjaweed
kicked him over to his side. They left him there to bleed
and watch as they turned their attention to his wife.
Seven men attacked Tonj’s wife ripping her from the protective
huddle she struggled to hold together with her young children.
Tonj lay on the ground slowly bleeding to death. Helplessly,
he watched these seven men beat and push his wife from man
to man while laughing and calling Tonj infidel, and his wife
whore.
While the first one raped his wife, others came to kick Tonj
in his back and head yelling, “Now will you worship Allah?”
Tonj cried out in agony – but no praise for Allah rose from
him.
All seven men raped and beat Tonj’s wife while Tonj and his
children watched in horror. When they finished with her, they
tied her hands together. Then they collected the children
and bound them in the same fashion. Leaving Tonj for dead,
they tied his wife and five children to the back of their
horses and forced them to run behind as the army of Janjaweed
rode north.
Tonj is not sure how long he laid on the ground; he lost consciousness
from time to time. The scars and missing body parts are more
than symbols of his loss, they are a constant reminder. He
has searched many times for any trace of his family, questioned
every returning slave to learn if they have any word of them
for him. Nothing.
Tonj doesn’t own a Bible; he never has. He was introduced
to Jesus through word of mouth and says he knows Jesus is
the Son of God and that Jesus died on the cross for him.
I confessed to Tonj that I feared I would not be as faithful
as he had been. I told him that I was humbled to sit in his
presence. I then asked him, “How did you manage to suffer
such extreme persecution, and even more horrifying, witness
the rape and torture of your wife and still not give into
the Muslims demand to worship Allah?” Tonj’s theology is both
steadfast and simple. He replied, “Allah isn’t God, how could
I worship him?”
As I sat before this meek man of such unimaginable faithfulness,
I had no words for him. I desperately wanted to comfort him
as he cried for his family. I searched frantically for something.
I had nothing to offer other than my presence. As we held
hands, both of us now crying, he said to me, “When I hold
your hands, I feel as though I am holding the hands of Christ.”
A few days after our interview I heard, through a friend of
Tonj’s, that he had enlisted in the SPLA (Sudanese People’s
Liberation Army) hoping this would give him access to find
and liberate his family.
- Kimberly Smith, President
Burnt
Tuckle (house) and Village after Janjaweed Raid
