SOUTH SUDAN: Leaving Home for the Homeless: How A New York City Priest Became the Spiritual Glue in Malakal
“I will be here until they leave.” Seventy-year-old Father Michael Bossano’s solemn declaration sounds resolute. His streaks of white hair tell tales of many years spent travelling the world. For now, however, the soft-spoken Catholic priest has found his place in Malakal, a long way from the comforts of the city he used to call home, New York.
“I always felt I wanted to go beyond my own comfort zone. I was a priest in New York, with a nice place, a car, everything. But when I heard of missionaries going overseas and giving their lives to serve others, I thought that’s what I wanted to do.”
On the surface of it, Father Michael would be forgiven for muttering “be careful what you wish for” under his breath. He spends his days in a large tin iron structure where he tends to his flock: the thousands and thousands of displaced people staying at the UN protection site in Malakal. Every night he returns to his home: a tent he shares with seven others, in a hub hosting hundreds of humanitarian workers, providing services to those in need.
Yet, as far away from the metropolitan glitz and glam of New York as he may find himself, Father Michael is at ease. He is at peace with himself, much like the South Sudan he found in Juba, shortly after the young nation had gained its independence.
He did not, however, arrive with a private jet straight from New York. His missionary journey took him to South America and Southeast Asia, to Chile and Thailand respectively, before setting foot in East Africa.
In Tanzania, Father Michael worked at a shelter for homeless people. There he joined a group called Solidarity with South Sudan, a cluster of Catholic Religious Organizations who were working collectively in the country. When a request came for volunteers to work in newly born South Sudan, he heeded the call.
“I arrived in Malakal in October of 2013. At that time there were about 300,000 people here – it was a vibrant town with people from everywhere going about their business,” he says.
All that would change in a matter of months. On Christmas Eve 2013, fierce fighting broke out in Malakal, the second-largest town in the country.
“It was very difficult because we were housed right in front of the military barracks and we were caught up in the middle of the fighting.”
Father Michael’s voice drifts off as he narrates how he and three sisters hid in the bathroom for two weeks, praying for themselves but also for the people, before they were evacuated. For days, mortars and bullets struck their humble abode endlessly.
“That was probably the first time I thought we could die here.”
And yet, he is still here. He has remained here through the subsequent fighting in 2014, 2015 and 2016, and has become a household name in the process. Humanitarian actors here trust him as a peace ambassador and a kind of precious “spiritual glue”, as Father Michael possesses the rare knack of reaching out to people across religions.
“There’s no regret. I feel fulfilled. I only wish the situation would improve,” he says adding, “There’s so much life amidst people who have nothing. I will be here until the time comes when they can go back home.”
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By Janet Adongo
