I am exceedingly honored this week to be posting the story of Julius Mwelu. Julius’ story came to me through Sarah Parker, a mutual friend though a former graduate school classmate of mine, Mackenzie Berg. Sarah follows Mackenzie’s own blog, where Mackenzie had made mention of some happenings here at social he(art), and I’m thankful to Sarah for following up (especially given that her internet connection in Kenya is extremely poor).

Mackenzie and myself have both spent considerable time researching participatory documentary photography projects, like those found through Kids with Cameras (featured in the well-known documentary, Born into Brothels), and The Rwanda Project, which encourage locals (particularly children in these cases) to use photography as a means by which to tell their own stories and show their world from their own, personal perspectives. So, given my own heart for participatory photography, I am absolutely thrilled to have been introduced to Julius Mwelu and his organization, The Mwelu Foundation.

Julius lives in Kenya, where he uses his photography to reach out to and work on several issues, including displaced persons, orphans, street children, poverty, education, and political violence. Below is his amazing story; let it inspire you.

“My name is Julius Mwelu, I was born and grew up in one of the biggest slums in Africa, that’s Mathare slum, a home to almost a million people. Most who live in Mathare are children and women.

Most of my time I like to spend playing soccer, hanging around with the youths from Mathare and taking photographs of day-to-day life in Mathare slum. One thing that I don’t like about life is being idle; therefore, I have always tried my best to follow the footsteps of my role models. The most important role model in my life, and she is everything to me, is my mother, who has been working day by day to make sure that we have food to eat at home and she has been there for me and the rest of the family. We are six of us in our family and I am the second to last born. My father died of malaria in 1994 when I was ten years old and I always feel very sorry for my mother, who always truly loved and respected him. At twenty-four, I am fortunate enough to now help provide for her and my younger brother as she did for me when I was a child.

The place where we live is commonly referred to as the home of gang crime, prostitution and drug abuse. Last year, I celebrated my twenty-fourth birthday, which, due to high child mortality, high crime rate and drug abuse, is not a very common thing to do in Mathare. My friends and I used to joke about the fact that in Mathare, there are essentially more reasons to die than to live. Most of my young friends have been killed, some by mob justice and some by police. Behind the eyes and faces of the inhabitants, behind the walls and doors of their dwellings lie incredible testimonies and cries of despair. However, there is also a formidable energy and will to survive in these people. Herein lies the future of the Mathare slum. This energy, this will to survive, is a constant reminder to me that we need to invest in the future youth of today if we want to create some kind of future for the youths of tomorrow, the youths of Mathare, and for the youths of the world.

At twelve, through a youth initiative program called ShootBack, I took my first picture and since then I have never looked back. Photography became my passion and through the years I worked hard to improve my skill. It has been my goal to share the pains and joys of the people of Mathare with the world. Because of this, I have documented horrific scenes of post election violence, but also the happy scenes of the strong people of Mathare.

Through the years I have come to appreciate the benefits of photography and I wanted to share my passion with the children of Mathare. I started the Mwelu Foundation in 2007 to train kids in photography and videography, to empower young boys and girls to express themselves with the camera. I want them to show those who have never been in a slum how the slum looks, and to show that Mathare slum is not made up of just criminals or bad people. I hope to empower the kids to show how they perceive the world. I am optimistic that our life, our dreams and our hopes will not be lost as I am take pictures of my country and so do the forty-five youths enrolled in the Mwelu Foundation, documenting day to day life in Mathare slum. It is my hope to guide them to a better future one filled with more hope and more opportunities.”

I was introduced to Lindsay Branham’s photogrphy at an event for Falling Whistles a few months ago when I painted a piece of artwork live at an event here in Denver. Lindsay’s work is nothing short of stunning.

Using photography, writing, and documentary film, Lindsay works with both Food for the Hungry and Discover the Journey, speaking out against the war in Congo and speaking on behalf of child soldiers.

When asked about her social justice story, Lindsay compellingly wrote this story:

“’Where are all of our friends?’ said Francois. ‘Where are the parents of Heritier? I don’t know. Where are the parents of Maombi? I don’t know. Where are all of them?!’

One man’s broken voice filtering through the phone lines from Goma to Nairobi. And this is war.

I look back on the last few years, and know that my branches have grown strong yet still weep salty tears on the shores of Lake Kivu. My soul is different and nothing is as it was. And I can’t help but embrace the new with joy. All of the Todays.

I had come to Africa for the first time in 2005. That first summer I met my first Congolese friends, and heard whispers of a war that had become the deadliest in the world. I was haunted by their pain.

In 2007 I was offered the opportunity to live in Congo. To create. Months stretched into a year and a half journey in eastern Congo and throughout the Great Lakes Region as a writer and photographer for Food for the Hungry.

Along the road I met children. And these children had been killers in various rebel groups scattered across the Kivu region. I saw in front of me a dichotomy of innocence and evil embodied in a small frame with wounded eyes. Peace hinged on these kidogos (child soldiers).

Journalistic zeal turned to a commitment for peace, for peace making. In French it’s called artisan de la paix. Literally, a craftsperson of peace. This is what I am building. And I recognize that true peace can come neither from me nor through my hands but from the One who has already absolved the evil we protest against. I submit myself.

Art is prophetic, and in eastern DRC, where thousands of children are conscripted to fight in a war saturated with brutality, a prophetic voice of hope and possibility has and can make way for the New.

I celebrate the dignity of these child soldiers that I have gotten to know and love. I believe in their Ndotos (dreams) and I labour alongside them for a future marked by Love and not by hate.

Through a variety of story, photography and documentary film initiatives with Discover the Journey, I commit myself to elevating the voices of these children, so they can share their lives with others. I know people will be changed. And their potential to create and live and heal is not only possible, it is being realized.

I do not understand my financial, social, national privilege. But I refuse to let it blind me and I refuse to be a tool in what is causing this war to continue, in what is forcing these children to become killers instead of students. I make no claims about my love or hope healing theirs. It is more the other way around. But I do believe there is power in our relationships with each other – mostly in the celebration of our commonness, in light of our much greater God.

On my last night in Goma, in December, my Congolese friend Francois grabbed my hands, looked me in the eyes and pleaded with me, ‘Lindsay, don’t stop crying for peace.’

I won’t.

Let Peace Take Flight.”

Take a look at Lindsay’s take on the war in Congo more by checking out this video on CNN.com.

I also encourage you to watch this video on the Paix t-shirt by Discover the Journey. I particularly appreciate how it’s framed, in that it’s “their language, their voice,” as we so often seem to forget that they’re more than capable of speaking for themselves. You can see the video in a larger size here, as well.

Check out more on Food for the Hungry and Discover the Journey at these places online:
www.fhglobal.org
www.discoverthejourney.org
www.discoverthejourney.org/paix

You can also find more of Lindsay’s work by going to any of these links:
CNN.com
Discover the Journey
Discover the Journey-PAIX
Food for the Hungry
Eagles Vantage Point