Hunger for Justice

by Cindy Koser


Men in Nan Batol farm the hardened land by hand.

I was in the village of Nan Batol on the Haitian island of Lagonav. The rainy season was late in arriving.

The food stocks from the previous harvest were so low that families had to share a single meal each day. Hope would form as people watched dark clouds gather in the distance...and then would dissipate into anguish as they passed without a drop. Fields, hardened from months of pounding sun, were unworkable. What would happen if it didn’t rain?

Remembering my first meal in the village still makes my stomach hurt. I was staying with a family as part of Beyond Borders Transformational Travel program. We’d been told large portions were a vital part of Haitian hospitality, so it didn’t seem outrageous when Jeanette, the family’s mother, heaped an enormous portion of millet and bean sauce on a tin plate and handed it to me.

We’d just arrived, and the heat had left me without an appetite. As I accepted the plate I cringed, hoping the leftover food would not offend Jeanette. I ate as much as I could, appreciating every bite. When I reached the point of discomfort, I stopped. I thanked her with a big smile and gestured that I was very full.

Jeanette reached for the plate. What I witnessed next has remained with me since. Jeanette handed my half-eaten plate of food, along with my spoon, to her 4-year-old daughter, Michelda, who eagerly took it with both hands, sat against the wall on the floor, and quickly ate all my leftovers. She’d not yet eaten that day.

When I was finally alone that night, I wept. What was it like for Jeanette to prepare so much food for visitors when her own children were hungry? I wondered why I felt guilty. I ate much less at every other meal, sometimes even offending Jeanette. Yet every piece of rice I left was eaten by her children... straight off of my plate. It made my stomach hurt. I felt profound pains of hunger, but not for food. I felt sharp pain, a deep longing in my gut, for justice.

Jeanette is a petite woman with a big spirit. She and her husband, Praneer, had worked hard to build a home for their three children, only to watch it burn to the ground. They were working on their second home when I was there. Jeanette is wise beyond her 30 years. She’d never had the opportunity to go to school as a child, so she is ecstatic to now be enrolled in a Beyond Borders adult literacy center. And it was her involvement in the literacy center that led to my becoming a guest in her home.

I kept a journal throughout my stay in Jeanette’s home. I remember the first time Jeanette saw me write in it. She rushed over to sit beside me on the bed and motioned that she wanted to write something. I handed her the journal. As I look through its pages today, I can still picture her hand shaking as she took the journal and her discomfort in holding the pen. With utmost concentration she began to write her name. She was beaming with pride. She then exclaimed, “I used to mark an ‘X’ for my name. Never again!”

Over the next few days, whenever Jeanette saw me pull out my journal, she sat beside me. I welled with emotion each time—and I feel the same today as I see her name written repeatedly in my journal.

Jeanette had to work hard to complete her chores so she could attend class at the literacy center. But the new reading, writing, and math skills she gained have opened new opportunities. She now participates in community activities with more confidence. She assists her children with their schoolwork. She reads her Bible.

Leaving Haiti at the end of that trip was painful. I wanted to forget what I’d encountered there, yet the abundance of food and water at home in the U.S. kept the experience alive. I didn’t like the emotions I felt. I asked God, “Why the disparity?” over and over. Today, I ask it again.

Hunger has long been a problem in Haiti...and the situation is even more drastic this year, with the world food crisis and rising oil costs. As we shared in a recent letter, the average daily per capita income of the poorest half of Haiti’s people is 44 cents. As an expression of solidarity with those who are hungry in Haiti, our Beyond Borders staff committed, along with some partners, to a day of eating or drinking only what we could buy for 44 cents.

Fasting was not new to me, but this was. It forced me to consider how much 44 cents could buy. I began comparing the differences between economies in the U.S. and Haiti. I remembered buying a roasted ear of corn on the street in the city of Jacmel for just a few cents. I thought about the abundance of fruit in the Haitian countryside. I found myself wondering if it isn’t easier to live on less than a dollar a day in Haiti. I was then reminded that the 44 cents of income in Haiti had to cover all of their daily necessities—not just food.

Author Cindy Koser shared her plate with Michelda each day.

So does it make any difference for Jeanette and her family if I go hungry on 44 cents of food for a day? The answer is not simple. For me, to feel hunger—albeit for a brief period—allows me to re-connect spiritually to Jeanette. Eating on 44 cents took me back to Nan Batol and watching Michelda eat my leftovers.

Yes, I have food to eat today. But I continue to feel aching pains of hunger for justice in our broken world. I am grateful for the ability to be disturbed, grateful that I’m unable to let go of this pain, believing in God’s vision of enough.

What is enough? It is for all people to have food, water, shelter. For people to not worry about their security—about bombs dropping or kidnappers pulling guns. For some sicknesses to be banished to the medical history books and other sicknesses to be treated by good medical care. For schools to be bustling with energy, encouragement, and supplies that bring forth the God-given gifts of every child. For all children to know love, dignity, and protection. For barriers to be broken down between people, between communities, races, countries... And for so much more.

The needs are many. As you see in this annual report, Beyond Borders is focused on Haiti—and particularly on areas of education. We enable schools and organizations to come more alive through good training and materials. We provide children with good education—and work to keep the most vulnerable of them from being taken into the exploitative conditions of child servitude. We provide churches with materials to help them become more vibrant places of learning and faith. We facilitate exchanges between North Americans and Haitians like the trip that brought me to Jeanette’s house. All this is possible through the generous partnership of churches, foundations, and individuals like you.

Jesus made it clear in the Sermon on the Mount, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for justice and righteousness, for they will be filled” (Matthew 5:6). May all those who hunger for food be fed. And may the Spirit continue to guide those of us who have enough to eat each day toward God’s vision of justice.