Hello Voice readers, welcome to my first blog! I haven’t written an essay since I was in university, so writing this took me straight back – be kind!!

I don’t know if you’re all aware, but I was born in DR Congo (formerly Zaire) and moved to London with my family when I was eight-years-old. My main contact with my country of birth was through telephone conversations with my extended family and news reports on TV – that’s it! In the back of my mind I always knew that I would one day return home, it was just a matter of when.

Last month I travelled to my homeland with charitable organisation, Warchild. My journey from the airport in the capital, Kinshasa to the hotel was humid and slightly uncomfortable, but surprisingly I felt at ease. Everything moved at a slower pace – a stark contrast to London – and made me feel so much more connected to nature and my thoughts. I felt excited, calm, emotional, nervous and anxious – the mix of emotions was indescribable. Things looked so different compared to when we left all those years ago.

I spent the first two days catching up with my family and friends – many of whom I just about recognised. There were lots of hugs, tears and joy from relatives who recounted stories about my childhood. But everything seemed to peril into insignificance when I came face to face with my grandmother. This was as close to fulfilment as I’ve ever been. She plays a major part in my memories of Congo. As we spoke the night away, my grandmother told me that people in Congo were suffering a great deal, but that they were all ‘happy’ and making ‘the best of the situation.’

When I travelled to the ‘City of Hope’ a barren and desolate area just outside of the capital, it’s hard to see how people can make the best of their situation. It took us about 45 minutes to get there in a 4×4 jeep – the only method of transport that can cope with the rocky roads plagued with potholes. It felt like a cross between the droughts in Darfur set against a picturesque backdrop of the most beautiful hills and scenery. The majority of people in this area were under 14 and cut off from the main city and amenities we take for granted such as water, food, electricity, transport and education – but they were happy and welcomed me with welcome arms.  I was even invited into a few tin houses, sheltering up to nine people, and realised the extent of depravation. One lady had to use plastic bags as a bed and was forced to send her children to sleep elsewhere.

Due to the lack of electricity in this remote spot, the day ends abruptly once the sun sets! We were soon on our way back to the mainland of Kinshasa where I spent the next day.

Much of the following day was spent in the back of an ambulance as it roamed through the country’s capital offering both medical and emotional support for young, homeless children. I can remember speaking to eight women in particular, ranging from 14 to 24, who were all somehow connected to prostitution. One lady had been selling her body since she was 12 so she could pay her rent and feed herself. Another girl that’s sticks out in my mind ran away from home at the age of 10 because she didn’t get along with her new step mum. As a result, she was embraced by new ‘older’ friends on the streets who taught her how to make money by using her body.

My trip to DR Congo was definitely an eye-opening experience and my encounters with the people out there, including my family, made me step back and take a look at myself. I realised that organisations like Warchild are extremely important in giving people hope and providing them with a safe haven. I guess my role is to bridge the gap between my community in Congo and the one here in the UK.

I can’t wait to go back!

More from me next week!

Eddie

Eddie Kadi will be headlining ‘An Audience With Eddie Kadi’ on Sept 4 at the O2. Visit www.theo2.co.uk

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