I come from a people called the Banyamulenge. We are cattle herders and live in the high mountains of eastern Congo overlooking Lake Tanganyika.

Over the years, my people have been forced from one area to another in search of green pastures for our livestock. When the Belgians ruled this part of Africa, we lived in what is now Rwanda. However, a severe famine forced us from our land, and eventually we moved to the mountain slopes of Mulenge in the Democratic Republic of Congo.

After years of peace there, my people began to feel the effects of racial and political conflicts in the region, and we were mistreated because of our ethnic background. In the past 20 years, many of the Banyamulenge have been targeted and killed. My people are unloved and unwanted.

In my own home, my father was a pastor, and I was the leader of the church choir. I loved training the young people to sing. But one day I had a dream, and God spoke to me: “Your time in this church is over.”

I told my father about my dream, and he released me to go. So I walked into the nearest town, and I was directed to a Mennonite church. I immediately knew that this was my new home.

Eventually, I began to lead the choir and to train young people. It was among these Mennonites that I learned the importance of forgiveness and the work of peace and reconciliation.

I knew that this would be a part of my future ministry.

During this time, it was not easy for me as a Banyamulenge. My people continued to be mistreated. My own life was threatened many times.

A softening of hearts

Then, in 2003, while my parents were fleeing from their home, they were murdered. I decided that it was time for me to leave also. I fled to Burundi, where I lived for three years in a refugee camp.

After that, I returned to Congo for six months to see if the atmosphere had changed toward my people. But it was too difficult, so this time I fled to Malawi, where again I made my home in a refugee camp.

In Malawi, the refugee camp was full of conflict and hopelessness. Even among the Christians there was much division and strife. People of different ethnic groups kept to themselves. Witchcraft was predominant.

Among these refugees, I began to exercise my gift as an evangelist. And people began to respond.

During my first year in the camp, I started a church. With a small group of disciples, we would go door to door throughout the camp, inviting people to follow Jesus.

I often shared from Ezekiel, where the prophet talks about how God had driven his people from their land and dispersed them among the nations because they had forsaken him. But God also would offer forgiveness: “A new heart I will give you, and a new spirit I will put within you; and I will remove from your body the heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh” (36:26).

The new church was a gathering of soft hearts. We became focused on Jesus’ teaching of forgiveness and loving our enemies. Our message was simple: Because God loves us, we must love one another.

Faith put to the test

During this time, a man joined our church. He was also a refugee from Congo. When he first arrived in the camp, I received this man into my home. After some time, I learned that he was the one who had murdered my parents in Congo.

I knew that my own teaching — the teaching of Jesus — was being put to the test. It was my desire to be a part of a church that took Scripture seriously and was based on peace and reconciliation. If God forgave me, I had to forgive others.

So I forgave this man for what he had done to my family.

Today, our church is built on this foundation of the peace and forgiveness of Christ.

We are preaching this gospel, and God is blessing us. Now there are 11 more churches in this area. I love what God is doing here. It brings my heart so much joy to see these churches thriving.

To God be the glory!

This testimony was originally published by MB Mission in Witness and is part of the resources for Mennonite World Conference Peace Sunday, Sept. 23, 2018.