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Mama Koko and the Hundred Gunmen: An Ordinary Family's Extraordinary Tale of Love, Loss, and Survival in Congo
International human rights activist Lisa Shannon spent many afternoons at the kitchen table having tea with her friend Francisca Thelin, who often spoke of her childhood in Congo. Thelin would conjure vivid images of lush flower gardens, fish the size of small children, and of children running barefoot through her family’s coffee plantation, gorging on fruit from the robust and plentiful mango trees. She urged Shannon to visit her family in Dungu, to get a taste of real Congo, peaceful Congo; a place so different than the conflict-ravaged places Shannon knew from her activism work.
But then the nightly phone calls from Congo began: static-filled, hasty reports from Francisca’s mother, “Mama Koko,” of gunmen—Joseph Kony’s Lord’s Resistance Army— who had infested Dungu and began launching attacks. Night after night for a year, Mama Koko delivered the devastating news of Fransisca’s cousins, nieces, nephews, friends, and neighbors, who had been killed, abducted, burned alive on Christmas Day.
In an unlikely journey, Shannon and Thelin decided to travel from Portland, Oregon to Dungu, to witness first-hand the devastation unfolding at Joseph Kony’s hands. Masquerading as Francisca’s American sister-in-law, Shannon tucked herself into Mama Koko’s raw cement living room and listened to the stories of Mama Koko and her husband, Papa Alexander—as well as those from dozens of other friends and neighbors (“Mama Koko’s War Tribunal”)—who lined up outside the house and waited for hours, eager to offer their testimony.
In Mama Koko and the Hundred Gunmen, Shannon weaves together the family’s tragic stories of LRA encounters with tales from the family’s history: we hear of Mama Koko’s early life as a gap-toothed beauty plotting to escape her inevitable fate of wife and motherhood; Papa Alexander’s empire of wives he married because they cooked and cleaned and made good coffee; and Francisca’s childhood at the family “castle” and coffee plantation. These lively stories transport Shannon from the chaos of the violence around her and bring to life Fransisca’s kitchen-table stories of the peaceful Congo.
Yet, as the LRA camp out on the edge of town grew, tensions inside the house reach a fever pitch and Shannon and Thelin’s friendship was fiercely tested. Shannon was forced to confront her limitations as an activist and reconcile her vision of what it means to affect meaningful change in the lives of others.
Mama Koko and the Hundred Gunmen is at once an illuminating piece of storytelling and an exploration of what it means to truly make a difference. It is an exquisite testimony to the beauty of human connection and the strength of the human spirit in times of unimaginable tragedy.
But then the nightly phone calls from Congo began: static-filled, hasty reports from Francisca’s mother, “Mama Koko,” of gunmen—Joseph Kony’s Lord’s Resistance Army— who had infested Dungu and began launching attacks. Night after night for a year, Mama Koko delivered the devastating news of Fransisca’s cousins, nieces, nephews, friends, and neighbors, who had been killed, abducted, burned alive on Christmas Day.
In an unlikely journey, Shannon and Thelin decided to travel from Portland, Oregon to Dungu, to witness first-hand the devastation unfolding at Joseph Kony’s hands. Masquerading as Francisca’s American sister-in-law, Shannon tucked herself into Mama Koko’s raw cement living room and listened to the stories of Mama Koko and her husband, Papa Alexander—as well as those from dozens of other friends and neighbors (“Mama Koko’s War Tribunal”)—who lined up outside the house and waited for hours, eager to offer their testimony.
In Mama Koko and the Hundred Gunmen, Shannon weaves together the family’s tragic stories of LRA encounters with tales from the family’s history: we hear of Mama Koko’s early life as a gap-toothed beauty plotting to escape her inevitable fate of wife and motherhood; Papa Alexander’s empire of wives he married because they cooked and cleaned and made good coffee; and Francisca’s childhood at the family “castle” and coffee plantation. These lively stories transport Shannon from the chaos of the violence around her and bring to life Fransisca’s kitchen-table stories of the peaceful Congo.
Yet, as the LRA camp out on the edge of town grew, tensions inside the house reach a fever pitch and Shannon and Thelin’s friendship was fiercely tested. Shannon was forced to confront her limitations as an activist and reconcile her vision of what it means to affect meaningful change in the lives of others.
Mama Koko and the Hundred Gunmen is at once an illuminating piece of storytelling and an exploration of what it means to truly make a difference. It is an exquisite testimony to the beauty of human connection and the strength of the human spirit in times of unimaginable tragedy.
240 pages, Hardcover
First published February 3, 2015
About the author
Lisa J. Shannon
3 books19 followersLisa J. Shannon is a human rights activist, writer, speaker, and author of the acclaimed book A Thousand Sisters. She is the founder of Run for Congo Women, the first national grassroots campaign in the US working to raise awareness of the forgotten humanitarian crisis in Congo, and has spearheaded many other major media and human rights campaigns for Congo and Somalia. She lives in Portland, Oregon.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 44 reviews
July 30, 2015
I finished Lisa J. Shannon’s Mama Koko and the Hundred Gunman a week ago and have spent a good chunk of the time since then mulling over what, exactly, I have to say about the book. The subject matter is timely; the author has done important work on behalf of Congolese women.
The history of Congo since its “discovery” has been brutal. For some three decades, Congo was unique in being the only African colony owned by a private individual: King Leopold of Belgium. Leopold’s Congo was a hell of forced labor on rubber plantations. “Control” of native Congolese was documented through the removal, collection, and counting of Congolese hands. Yes, hands. Over the course of Leopold’s rule, the population of Congo fell by perhaps as much as one-third. After an international campaign to end Leopold’s rule there, Congo became a colony of Belgium in 1908.
Congo achieved independence in 1960. After more than a century of occupation and uncompensated export of Congo’s resources, independence presented significant challenges. Although Congo had a population of roughly 15.25 million at that time, Shannon notes that “When the Congolese people gained their independence… only nineteen Congolese people had college degrees and fewer than fourteen thousand were enrolled in secondary school.” Congo’s first democratically elected president, Patrice Lamumba was killed in 1961, most likely with CIA cooperation motivated by the growing ties between Congo and the Soviet Union.
The history of Congolese independence is one of constant civil war. Multiple guerilla militias have preyed upon the Congolese people, most recently Joseph Kony’s Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA). In 2005 Kony and four other members of the LRA were indicted by the international criminal court for crimes against humanity, including genocide, forced relocation of populations, child sexual slavery, and the use of child soldiers. It is this Congo in which Shannon’s narrative takes place.
Shannon is the founder of Run for Congo Women, a series of thirty-mile runs held in multiple locations with the goal of raising awareness of and support for Congolese women. Her first book, 2010’s A Thousand Sisters, tells of her experiences visiting Congolese villages and interviewing women affected by the violence.
Mama Koko and the Hundred Gunman chronicles Shannon’s second trip to Congo. Along with her friend Francisca Thelin, she travels to Thelin’s home village of Dungu. While the women’s purposes are complimentary, they are different enough to create a tension that lies in the heart of this book. Thelin, whose family has lost members to the LRA, is more interested in a visit home to spend time reconnecting with her remaining family members. Shannon is determined to document the recent violence using Thelin as an interpreter to such an extent that Thelin has much less time with her family than she’s hoped. In addition, Shannon’s and Thelin’s experiences documenting the violence are significantly different in that Thelin is related to nearly every Congolese individual interviewed. Unlike Shannon, for Thelin, these aren’t “just” atrocities—they’re family stories.
Because of Shannon’s and Thelin’s competing purposes, I felt distinctly uncomfortable reading the book at times. Shannon notes when Thelin is a less-than-enthusiastic interpreter and records Thelin’s repeated requests for more family time. Yes, these stories need to be told, but it feels wrong to have their telling depend a woman who has already lost so much to the conflicts in Congo.
That said, one of the strengths of Shannon’s book is that it offers more than a series of descrptions of atrocities. Shannon provides historical background to contextualize the current state of Congo. She also provides suggestions about how readers can contribute to the movement for peace and justice in Congo. Among the groups she highlights are Invisible Children, the Enough Project, Resolve, and Women for Women International.
In a way, the tension at the heart of this book feels appropriate. It feels right that the process of gathering this information should be uncomfortable and that Shannon documents this discomfort so carefully, even at the risk of making herself less appealing to readers.
The history of Congo since its “discovery” has been brutal. For some three decades, Congo was unique in being the only African colony owned by a private individual: King Leopold of Belgium. Leopold’s Congo was a hell of forced labor on rubber plantations. “Control” of native Congolese was documented through the removal, collection, and counting of Congolese hands. Yes, hands. Over the course of Leopold’s rule, the population of Congo fell by perhaps as much as one-third. After an international campaign to end Leopold’s rule there, Congo became a colony of Belgium in 1908.
Congo achieved independence in 1960. After more than a century of occupation and uncompensated export of Congo’s resources, independence presented significant challenges. Although Congo had a population of roughly 15.25 million at that time, Shannon notes that “When the Congolese people gained their independence… only nineteen Congolese people had college degrees and fewer than fourteen thousand were enrolled in secondary school.” Congo’s first democratically elected president, Patrice Lamumba was killed in 1961, most likely with CIA cooperation motivated by the growing ties between Congo and the Soviet Union.
The history of Congolese independence is one of constant civil war. Multiple guerilla militias have preyed upon the Congolese people, most recently Joseph Kony’s Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA). In 2005 Kony and four other members of the LRA were indicted by the international criminal court for crimes against humanity, including genocide, forced relocation of populations, child sexual slavery, and the use of child soldiers. It is this Congo in which Shannon’s narrative takes place.
Shannon is the founder of Run for Congo Women, a series of thirty-mile runs held in multiple locations with the goal of raising awareness of and support for Congolese women. Her first book, 2010’s A Thousand Sisters, tells of her experiences visiting Congolese villages and interviewing women affected by the violence.
Mama Koko and the Hundred Gunman chronicles Shannon’s second trip to Congo. Along with her friend Francisca Thelin, she travels to Thelin’s home village of Dungu. While the women’s purposes are complimentary, they are different enough to create a tension that lies in the heart of this book. Thelin, whose family has lost members to the LRA, is more interested in a visit home to spend time reconnecting with her remaining family members. Shannon is determined to document the recent violence using Thelin as an interpreter to such an extent that Thelin has much less time with her family than she’s hoped. In addition, Shannon’s and Thelin’s experiences documenting the violence are significantly different in that Thelin is related to nearly every Congolese individual interviewed. Unlike Shannon, for Thelin, these aren’t “just” atrocities—they’re family stories.
Because of Shannon’s and Thelin’s competing purposes, I felt distinctly uncomfortable reading the book at times. Shannon notes when Thelin is a less-than-enthusiastic interpreter and records Thelin’s repeated requests for more family time. Yes, these stories need to be told, but it feels wrong to have their telling depend a woman who has already lost so much to the conflicts in Congo.
That said, one of the strengths of Shannon’s book is that it offers more than a series of descrptions of atrocities. Shannon provides historical background to contextualize the current state of Congo. She also provides suggestions about how readers can contribute to the movement for peace and justice in Congo. Among the groups she highlights are Invisible Children, the Enough Project, Resolve, and Women for Women International.
In a way, the tension at the heart of this book feels appropriate. It feels right that the process of gathering this information should be uncomfortable and that Shannon documents this discomfort so carefully, even at the risk of making herself less appealing to readers.
February 23, 2015
I don't think I'm giving this book perhaps the rating it deserved, but unless this is your first book of the Congo, it's people, and the impact the LRA has had on it's people, the book while tragic is rather tiring.
Lisa Shannon is a human rights activist and her friend Francesca's birth place is the Congo. Tales of the troubles that LRA has brought to the region are troubling to both Francesca and Lisa. They travel back to Africa and Lisa interviews survivors of the tragic suffering of the Congolese at the hands of the LRA. Lisa is writing these first person accounts with Francesca's translations.
Joseph Kony has been the central figure in a few books that I've read in the past year. His terror reigns supreme and has increased in relation to his mental health issues. Horrible stories abound. They are disturbing.
Lisa writes a narrative that I found uninviting,and more journalistic in nature. Mama Koko,and extended family fashioned the home base for Lisa's writing which was Francesca's family. Their hardships are compelling. I just didn't find this book any more compelling than any other book I've read about the LRA, Kony, and the victims of his reign of terror.
Lisa Shannon is a human rights activist and her friend Francesca's birth place is the Congo. Tales of the troubles that LRA has brought to the region are troubling to both Francesca and Lisa. They travel back to Africa and Lisa interviews survivors of the tragic suffering of the Congolese at the hands of the LRA. Lisa is writing these first person accounts with Francesca's translations.
Joseph Kony has been the central figure in a few books that I've read in the past year. His terror reigns supreme and has increased in relation to his mental health issues. Horrible stories abound. They are disturbing.
Lisa writes a narrative that I found uninviting,and more journalistic in nature. Mama Koko,and extended family fashioned the home base for Lisa's writing which was Francesca's family. Their hardships are compelling. I just didn't find this book any more compelling than any other book I've read about the LRA, Kony, and the victims of his reign of terror.
June 19, 2015
3.5 review to follow.
February 17, 2023
I'd give it a rating somewhere between 3.5-4 stars
Honestly, it took me a while to connect and feel engaged with this book. However, as soon as I did, I realised how much of a good, informative, and IMPORTANT book it is. The book shares a story of ordinary people who’ve gone through traumatising events and dealt with grief, terror, and loss.
People around the world struggle almost daily, but the struggles here are painfully unique. I appreciate how the book ends with ways to help and what the reader could do to raise awareness about the topics discussed in this book.
I also respect how the author told stories of those people without making it triggering to the reader at all.
However, I would've liked it more if the author wrote the book in chronological order or chose a different way to approach the narrative. I felt that every chapter seemed a little unrelated to the one before it, which slowed my way down to connect with the book. But as soon as I got used to it, I found interest in reading it.
Highly recommended.
Honestly, it took me a while to connect and feel engaged with this book. However, as soon as I did, I realised how much of a good, informative, and IMPORTANT book it is. The book shares a story of ordinary people who’ve gone through traumatising events and dealt with grief, terror, and loss.
People around the world struggle almost daily, but the struggles here are painfully unique. I appreciate how the book ends with ways to help and what the reader could do to raise awareness about the topics discussed in this book.
I also respect how the author told stories of those people without making it triggering to the reader at all.
However, I would've liked it more if the author wrote the book in chronological order or chose a different way to approach the narrative. I felt that every chapter seemed a little unrelated to the one before it, which slowed my way down to connect with the book. But as soon as I got used to it, I found interest in reading it.
Highly recommended.
November 6, 2014
This is one of those books where a starred rating really does not get my feelings across.
I had never read a book set in the Congo, so I was very excited for that. I also think the cover for this book is absolutely gorgeous.
"Violence was not inherent to the landscape of her Congo - mango trees were, and the fragrant air after a rain."
Lisa Shannon writes beautifully, at least for the first half. After a while it felts like she got tired, and reverted to journalism.
Unfortunately it felt like a lot of the book was focusing on Lisa and Shannon’s (and the West’s) reactions to secondarily experiencing the atrocities instead of the reactions on the people who actually lived it. Sure, she tells their stories, but a lot of the time it feels just like that: telling someone else’s stories. That does not mean it was worthless at all, I am still glad I read this. It opened my eyes. But on a literary level, it did not quite reach the depths one hopes it will.
The thing that really affected my rating for the book though, was Shannon’s “savior complex”. She seems to be cognizant of it on some level, but she does not delve into it. She does not address it or show that she is aware of it and trying to change it. She continues to talk of HER plans, and HER wishes, and not the wishes of the people who have suffered.
She also mentions the concerns of the people of her book that telling their stories will not change anything, but she does not address it. I think it is a valid question: what does it help for us to get invested in other stories of horror if we do not do anything about it? CAN we do anything about it? We get obsessed with Kony for a few months because it is the “fashionable” thing to do, but then it blows over FOR US and we carry on with our lives and our new iPhones but Kony remains out there and child soldiers remain a reality and WHAT HAVE WE DONE ABOUT IT?
Perhaps it is unrealistic of me to expect so much from a book. At any rate, this is a superb account of the history of the area and the beauty that it used to hold for its inhabitants. If you want to learn about what happened in the Congo (because, let’s face it, our history classes don’t teach much of it) then this is the book for you.
I had never read a book set in the Congo, so I was very excited for that. I also think the cover for this book is absolutely gorgeous.
"Violence was not inherent to the landscape of her Congo - mango trees were, and the fragrant air after a rain."
Lisa Shannon writes beautifully, at least for the first half. After a while it felts like she got tired, and reverted to journalism.
Unfortunately it felt like a lot of the book was focusing on Lisa and Shannon’s (and the West’s) reactions to secondarily experiencing the atrocities instead of the reactions on the people who actually lived it. Sure, she tells their stories, but a lot of the time it feels just like that: telling someone else’s stories. That does not mean it was worthless at all, I am still glad I read this. It opened my eyes. But on a literary level, it did not quite reach the depths one hopes it will.
The thing that really affected my rating for the book though, was Shannon’s “savior complex”. She seems to be cognizant of it on some level, but she does not delve into it. She does not address it or show that she is aware of it and trying to change it. She continues to talk of HER plans, and HER wishes, and not the wishes of the people who have suffered.
She also mentions the concerns of the people of her book that telling their stories will not change anything, but she does not address it. I think it is a valid question: what does it help for us to get invested in other stories of horror if we do not do anything about it? CAN we do anything about it? We get obsessed with Kony for a few months because it is the “fashionable” thing to do, but then it blows over FOR US and we carry on with our lives and our new iPhones but Kony remains out there and child soldiers remain a reality and WHAT HAVE WE DONE ABOUT IT?
Perhaps it is unrealistic of me to expect so much from a book. At any rate, this is a superb account of the history of the area and the beauty that it used to hold for its inhabitants. If you want to learn about what happened in the Congo (because, let’s face it, our history classes don’t teach much of it) then this is the book for you.
December 11, 2014
This book tells an important story of what is and has been happening in Congo. It is a quick, if not always easy, read. The change from Francisca's mostly-peaceful childhood to the takeover by Kony and the LRA. Francisca's story, and that of her family, is told through the narration and first-person accounts of activist and author Lisa J. Shannon, who traveled with Francisca to her hometown. Narrowing the mind-numbing horror of the atrocities committed in Congo down to the stories of just a few individuals makes it harder for the reader to distance themselves from it. These become people we know who are suffering.
She touches briefly on the occupation of the Belgians, which ended in 1960, but also lets us see the beauty of the country and its people. We get a glimpse of possibility in the livelihoods the Congolese made for themselves for those 30 or so years of relative freedom.
One thing I especially like about this book is the "What You Can Do" appendix. She lists six different organizations that support the people of Congo, while encouraging readers to seek out more information on their own.
I received this book in a first-reads giveaway.
She touches briefly on the occupation of the Belgians, which ended in 1960, but also lets us see the beauty of the country and its people. We get a glimpse of possibility in the livelihoods the Congolese made for themselves for those 30 or so years of relative freedom.
One thing I especially like about this book is the "What You Can Do" appendix. She lists six different organizations that support the people of Congo, while encouraging readers to seek out more information on their own.
I received this book in a first-reads giveaway.
June 8, 2015
I have spent time in central Africa, and am very interested in the history and culture of Eastern Congo - and the ongoing tragedy that has existed there for many years, and so I wanted to like this book and to be moved by it. It was interesting, but hard to follow the many characters and it seemed to me that much that was told reflected the authors reactions and thoughts rather than truly relating the lives and stories of the people in the Congo. I'm not sure that is a fair statement, just an impression I had - too much about the author's chosen career path and personal choices as a single woman - that did not really fit with the stories of Mama Koko and Francisca.
November 21, 2015
I found this book so irritating that I went to great lengths to remember my Good Reads password. As soon as I was getting interested in the stories of the Congolese characters, Shannon would interject irrelevant stuff about herself. Blah blah, I'm a white Savior, blah blah kids love me, blah blah the Congolese fed us a vegan meal by request (what does this even mean??????), I'm the ONLY white person who... gross. I'm pretty sure you wrote your own Wikipedia article. The star is for the innocent Congolese who were pulled into this terrible book. I wish someone could rewrite it giving them they attention that they deserve
August 11, 2017
This book had a great potential, but it didn't meet it. The author talked too much about herself. Instead, it would have been better to hear about the life Francisca alluded to when she was first introduced. She could have given beautiful glimpses of before the ravages that occurred. Their lives deserved more attention than just the horror and tragedy of the LRA, it shaped them, of course, but these individuals are way more than their horror.
October 5, 2014
Brilliant story of love, loss and survival in the Congo exposing brutality which still continues every day in the congo and how it had a long lasting effect on the whole family.
February 24, 2015
An important book!
June 12, 2017
The activist mentions dismay at Americans unnoticing of third world countries beset by corruption and intolerance and war. The truth is not much substantial internal news is fed to Americans; news mostly concerns itself with politics as if media companies were owned operated and funded by US politicians themselves. Another protest in defense of Americans is that we have responsibilities that tie us to localities. We all don't want to forsake life to marry ourselves to a cause - and goodness knows there are millions of causes that need support. I want to assure the author that when we hear or see these things we too are dismayed. I am glad some people dedicate themselves to alleviation of international misery, even when the problem appears to be insurmountable. Should the US insert itself in tribal politics of countries on the other side of the globe? We have a much maligned history of doing so. Past US intervention on the wrong side due to sad misinformation has caused worse problems. The UN is a useless and corrupt organization itself, as this story clearly shows. Educating Americans could generate interest and money for a time; but THIS WONT SOLVE THE PROBLEM. These countries need to select leaders, train Armies and fight corruption in their own lands. There was similar lawlessness in America in it's infancy. We fought back. It is very important that we hear voices from third worlds - it is crucial to know. I always seek books like this to help me feel closer - we are all human together and their battle is ours - if only in the sorrow and regret we feel at their plight.
December 5, 2017
I started this not knowing that I had already read the earlier book by this same author (A Thousand Sisters). Which isn’t a bad thing, but I wasn’t expecting it to be so much about the author and memoirist of her own experiences, even though the focus is on her subject family - with the matriarch Mama Koko. But, once I figured out it was her writing, I knew what it would be like and grew used to it.
The value in this book is not that it’s another tragic story about the Congo (and it is that) but that Congo hasn’t always been tragic in all corners, and people at one time lived good lives and were happy and prosperous. This book also sheds light on an area of Congo that isn’t focused on much - especially at the time that this book takes place - which is Dungu 2008 - 2010 timeframe and the Lord’s Resistance was before the US and it’s partners started in earnest going after Kony. This is before the viral video of Kony 2012. And for that, it has value. And in the story of the family and the ups and downs of Dungu over the last 60 years.
So to me, it was worth reading for those tidbits, if not all the stuff the author threw in about herself and her own life. Though, for other readers, that is probably helpful to help them understand the author and feel closer to her. I only was in it for the Congo stuff, though.
The value in this book is not that it’s another tragic story about the Congo (and it is that) but that Congo hasn’t always been tragic in all corners, and people at one time lived good lives and were happy and prosperous. This book also sheds light on an area of Congo that isn’t focused on much - especially at the time that this book takes place - which is Dungu 2008 - 2010 timeframe and the Lord’s Resistance was before the US and it’s partners started in earnest going after Kony. This is before the viral video of Kony 2012. And for that, it has value. And in the story of the family and the ups and downs of Dungu over the last 60 years.
So to me, it was worth reading for those tidbits, if not all the stuff the author threw in about herself and her own life. Though, for other readers, that is probably helpful to help them understand the author and feel closer to her. I only was in it for the Congo stuff, though.
Read
June 15, 2025I would have placed the info from the appendix in the book's front. For those of us just learning the basics of this conflict it explains the roots and main players. Fairly complex with lots of moving parts, different ethnic war a religous nut jobs creating the "the perfect storm" for these horrible, horrible crimes upon the Congolese.
I have to agree with the author that those in power are using these tensions and wars as a cover-up for funneling money/resources. In 2014 100% of electronics have minerals from the congo (pg.201). There has to be some SICK reason that this isn't being stopped?!
The things you will read in this book are such disgusting atrocities....does anyone value human life?! The amount and duration that the Congolese have suffered is almost beyond comprehension.
At time book is written only between 60-100 LRA members are alive (not including abducted children) so why can the UN not defeat them? It has been established already that the Congolese army doesnt actually help the people and is often r@ping women and drinking instead of defending
Pg. 100 the theory of the Congolese is understandably that the UN enables the LRA. What other reason could there be for them not eliminating a mere 60 terrorists? There has been spottings of the UN and the LRA working together by local Congolese.
Shannon later states this was a rumor the Congolese Army started and the local didn't know about the new UN uniforms. Personally i am not sure what the real truth is and remain suspicious
Pg.158 such a horrible dynamic that the LRA is abducting children. Lisa interview a Congolese who was abducted by the LRA, was forced to commited horrible crimes against other Congolese and somehow escaped LRA to return to his family. This is a whole other kind of horrible trauma being inflicted upon the Congolese. The abducted that try to run from the LRA are shot, but some are able to escape.
One in three Congolese children under age five passes away
Websites to help:
Minzoto.org helps Francisca build a schhol
Invisiblechildren.com
Raisehopeforcongo.org
Easterncongo.org
Sponser a "sister" womanforwoman.org
I have to agree with the author that those in power are using these tensions and wars as a cover-up for funneling money/resources. In 2014 100% of electronics have minerals from the congo (pg.201). There has to be some SICK reason that this isn't being stopped?!
The things you will read in this book are such disgusting atrocities....does anyone value human life?! The amount and duration that the Congolese have suffered is almost beyond comprehension.
At time book is written only between 60-100 LRA members are alive (not including abducted children) so why can the UN not defeat them? It has been established already that the Congolese army doesnt actually help the people and is often r@ping women and drinking instead of defending
Pg. 100 the theory of the Congolese is understandably that the UN enables the LRA. What other reason could there be for them not eliminating a mere 60 terrorists? There has been spottings of the UN and the LRA working together by local Congolese.
Shannon later states this was a rumor the Congolese Army started and the local didn't know about the new UN uniforms. Personally i am not sure what the real truth is and remain suspicious
Pg.158 such a horrible dynamic that the LRA is abducting children. Lisa interview a Congolese who was abducted by the LRA, was forced to commited horrible crimes against other Congolese and somehow escaped LRA to return to his family. This is a whole other kind of horrible trauma being inflicted upon the Congolese. The abducted that try to run from the LRA are shot, but some are able to escape.
One in three Congolese children under age five passes away
Websites to help:
Minzoto.org helps Francisca build a schhol
Invisiblechildren.com
Raisehopeforcongo.org
Easterncongo.org
Sponser a "sister" womanforwoman.org
November 26, 2019
I am fascinated by this project. This book is a story of bearing witness. I was skeptical about the writer at first, but she wins me over as the book progresses. She accompanies her friend to the Congo and interviews her friend's family members who have been displaced by the LRA and survived attacks, while watching their loved ones slaughtered. That she acknowledges her own white-savior complex to a limited extent feels important. Her writing is her advocacy and she hopes that by telling the family's stories, she raises awareness and puts pressure on other governments to intervene. But I think these stories are more important and more simple than that. Even if not a single person who didn't already know reads this book. Telling stories, telling our own stories, shaping our own narratives is essential to the social fabric of our lives. They connect is all and bring us together. Stories keep people alive. In so many ways.
December 3, 2019
Francisca and Lisa decide to go back to where Francisca is from. For the purpose of writing about the experiences of a family's loss through the destruction of the country left behind by the LRA. Horror stories meant to shed light on the problems of the area. Not for the squimish. Many of the stories are in detail, and I believe the author wanted to 'Shock' us here in the west to action. The Congo has suffered so much. Prayer is definitely needed. It was well written, and some of the stories were tugging at my heartstrings. Anyone could definitely feel the love they had for one another.
I am a war vet, I do know, I have seen, but never to this extent. The whole book made me sad and I felt useless to be able to help.
I am a war vet, I do know, I have seen, but never to this extent. The whole book made me sad and I felt useless to be able to help.
March 1, 2018
I found the narrative hard to follow.
August 10, 2019
Interesting story about a family's struggle in Congo as upheaval of the country takes place.
February 15, 2025
Disturbing. An important thought-provoking read.
February 12, 2015
[Currently, I am doing a multiple year reading challenge through most of the African nonfiction on my TBR, with the addition of a few novels. Based on the advice of a friend who also enjoys reading nonfiction about The Dark Continent, one of the first books to go on my challenge list was Lisa Shannon’s The Thousand Sisters. Since my Congo books were slated for next year, I had yet to experience her writing; however, when I was offered a review copy of this, her newest book, I jumped on it.
Lisa had the opportunity to travel to the home village of a friend, a Congo born woman married to an American who served in the Peace Corps in her village. Francesca’s family’s region had recently become embroiled in the tragic despotic conflict that has been spreading across the borders of several neighboring countries. Lisa convinced her that they should travel to the area together, with Francesca acting as translator and guide, in order for Lisa to document and then share with the west the continued abuses and trials suffered by the people of the region.
Lisa Shannon is a well-known activist for the women of Congo and has devoted her life to raising awareness of their plight. As such, I expected an insightful look at the hardships experienced by her subjects, but I was completely unprepared for what an outstanding narrative writer she is. She brings Congo to sweat-soaked, dust-laden reality. Its people come vividly to life as she shares their humor under duress, their love for each other, and their despair over the calamity that has descended on their once bucolic corner of Africa.
Mama Koko is primarily the story of Francesca’s family (Mama Koko is her mother) and their reminiscences. Lisa relates first person interviews, observes the situation at the time of her visit, and shares her insight. In addition, Lisa is unflinching in her analysis of her own motivations and emotions. There is an appendix at the end of the book where a brief but very informative history of the descent of Congo into chaos is detailed. Lisa states that she wanted the focus of the book to be on the family and their experiences, but as someone unfamiliar with the genesis and progression of the conflict, I appreciated her synopsis.
At the conclusion of the book, Lisa gives a list of organizations that aid victims of violence in Congo and encourages readers to learn more about their critical efforts. There is also a listing of all the people mentioned in the book and a distinguishing characteristic. My guess is that list will be moved to the front of the final publication, but if not, be aware that it is in the back and rather useful while you read, as there is a large cast of players in the narrative. Although they were not included in my galley, it looked as though there are going to be a significant number of maps in the finished product, which has been available for purchase since 3 February.
Chronology was the sole reason that this book did not garner five stars from me—I gave it a solid four and a half in places that allow halves. Lisa gives a linear narration of her interviews in the order she conducted them, along with her own experiences, as opposed to the order in which the events being recounted happened. At times, I lost my grasp of how the many occurrences slotted together.
That single gripe aside (and truly, it in no way affected the impact of the story Lisa was trying to tell), I would recommend this book to anyone who seeks to better understand the non-combatant viewpoint of a region in violent crisis. This story is not told as a journalist might report the conflict. It is the chronicle of one motivated, compassionate woman driven to share the anguish of families caught in the cross-fire of a tumultuous battle which came unbidden to their doorstep and which they have never embraced as their own. This is a book aimed at encouraging each of us to engage, both on an emotional and a hands-on level, in one of the great tragedies of our time.
Lisa had the opportunity to travel to the home village of a friend, a Congo born woman married to an American who served in the Peace Corps in her village. Francesca’s family’s region had recently become embroiled in the tragic despotic conflict that has been spreading across the borders of several neighboring countries. Lisa convinced her that they should travel to the area together, with Francesca acting as translator and guide, in order for Lisa to document and then share with the west the continued abuses and trials suffered by the people of the region.
Lisa Shannon is a well-known activist for the women of Congo and has devoted her life to raising awareness of their plight. As such, I expected an insightful look at the hardships experienced by her subjects, but I was completely unprepared for what an outstanding narrative writer she is. She brings Congo to sweat-soaked, dust-laden reality. Its people come vividly to life as she shares their humor under duress, their love for each other, and their despair over the calamity that has descended on their once bucolic corner of Africa.
Mama Koko is primarily the story of Francesca’s family (Mama Koko is her mother) and their reminiscences. Lisa relates first person interviews, observes the situation at the time of her visit, and shares her insight. In addition, Lisa is unflinching in her analysis of her own motivations and emotions. There is an appendix at the end of the book where a brief but very informative history of the descent of Congo into chaos is detailed. Lisa states that she wanted the focus of the book to be on the family and their experiences, but as someone unfamiliar with the genesis and progression of the conflict, I appreciated her synopsis.
At the conclusion of the book, Lisa gives a list of organizations that aid victims of violence in Congo and encourages readers to learn more about their critical efforts. There is also a listing of all the people mentioned in the book and a distinguishing characteristic. My guess is that list will be moved to the front of the final publication, but if not, be aware that it is in the back and rather useful while you read, as there is a large cast of players in the narrative. Although they were not included in my galley, it looked as though there are going to be a significant number of maps in the finished product, which has been available for purchase since 3 February.
Chronology was the sole reason that this book did not garner five stars from me—I gave it a solid four and a half in places that allow halves. Lisa gives a linear narration of her interviews in the order she conducted them, along with her own experiences, as opposed to the order in which the events being recounted happened. At times, I lost my grasp of how the many occurrences slotted together.
That single gripe aside (and truly, it in no way affected the impact of the story Lisa was trying to tell), I would recommend this book to anyone who seeks to better understand the non-combatant viewpoint of a region in violent crisis. This story is not told as a journalist might report the conflict. It is the chronicle of one motivated, compassionate woman driven to share the anguish of families caught in the cross-fire of a tumultuous battle which came unbidden to their doorstep and which they have never embraced as their own. This is a book aimed at encouraging each of us to engage, both on an emotional and a hands-on level, in one of the great tragedies of our time.
April 13, 2015
"This is how one hundred men can maintain nearly complete control of an area the size of California: Lone survivors could tell the story of fates so bloody and ferocious that no one will come after them. So bad that just hearing about it stings and the whole world will stay away."
I would say this is between a 3 and 4 for me, but I'm rounding up because the story is an important one. As someone who worked for Invisible Children for over 3 years, I'm very familiar with the LRA's atrocities, but it's always powerful to hear the personal stories of victims and survivors. The stories shared by Lisa Shannon in this book certainly depict the horrific and widespread impact of the LRA and because these stories come from individuals and their families, they are all the more powerful.
From a more critical perspective (for a book review), I'll share a few thoughts:
First, I appreciated the map that provided context, but a timeline would have been just as much, or more, helpful. Because she tells the stories in the order that she heard them, they are not chronological and it can be difficult to remember how they all fit together. Without rearranging the narrative, a timeline would have provided a bit more of that context.
I also would really like to understand why it took so long to publish the book. I can imagine that it took some time to write and edit, etc etc, but Lisa herself points out that many of the individuals she interviewed in Dungu were skeptical that it would actually make a difference to share their stories, especially considering how painful it was for them to relive their experiences. It seems like taking almost five years to publish the book kind of proves their point. That's why I'd like to understand what happened in between the trip and the publishing (besides the death of even more of Francisca's family members). I would have preferred to hear more about that instead of so much of Lisa's relationship with Heritier. While it sounds completely understandable that she would fall in love with the semi-abandoned child, it made me feel rather uncomfortable in light of potential "white savior" accusations.
In the end, I think the book does a good job of describing the terror of the LRA. And perhaps unintentionally, it is a reminder of the tension that exists between not wanting to inflict additional pain on survivors (and families of victims) while also wanting to capture their stories in order to hopefully attract enough attention to make a lasting difference on the conflict.
I would say this is between a 3 and 4 for me, but I'm rounding up because the story is an important one. As someone who worked for Invisible Children for over 3 years, I'm very familiar with the LRA's atrocities, but it's always powerful to hear the personal stories of victims and survivors. The stories shared by Lisa Shannon in this book certainly depict the horrific and widespread impact of the LRA and because these stories come from individuals and their families, they are all the more powerful.
From a more critical perspective (for a book review), I'll share a few thoughts:
First, I appreciated the map that provided context, but a timeline would have been just as much, or more, helpful. Because she tells the stories in the order that she heard them, they are not chronological and it can be difficult to remember how they all fit together. Without rearranging the narrative, a timeline would have provided a bit more of that context.
I also would really like to understand why it took so long to publish the book. I can imagine that it took some time to write and edit, etc etc, but Lisa herself points out that many of the individuals she interviewed in Dungu were skeptical that it would actually make a difference to share their stories, especially considering how painful it was for them to relive their experiences. It seems like taking almost five years to publish the book kind of proves their point. That's why I'd like to understand what happened in between the trip and the publishing (besides the death of even more of Francisca's family members). I would have preferred to hear more about that instead of so much of Lisa's relationship with Heritier. While it sounds completely understandable that she would fall in love with the semi-abandoned child, it made me feel rather uncomfortable in light of potential "white savior" accusations.
In the end, I think the book does a good job of describing the terror of the LRA. And perhaps unintentionally, it is a reminder of the tension that exists between not wanting to inflict additional pain on survivors (and families of victims) while also wanting to capture their stories in order to hopefully attract enough attention to make a lasting difference on the conflict.
October 27, 2015
It only gets three because people should know what is going on. The book itself, as a book, deserves two stars. I love Francisca, and Mama KoKo and the whole family.... So much so I wanted more from the few snippets on life in Africa before terror came to their region. More stories of everyday than their basic bios. Instead the author framed the book as tragedy after tragedy, interspersed with her own self adulation for what a good social advocate she was. It is like she didn't trust the reader to care about these people on their own, instead needing to be beaten into caring submission. And yet people should hear these stories so I don't discourage reading this book. These characters just deserved better than the author. I strongly believe they would have been better served with more story into who the family was and life in good times to frame the tragic stories the violence of the LRA forced on them. The readers would recognize and feel for the people they are, not just facts of a tragedy.
February 18, 2016
Several months ago I was introduced to Lisa Shannon through her book A Thousand Sisters. In her second book, Lisa Shannon returns to Eastern Congo with Francisca, a Congolese woman living in the states. During their visit to the Democratic Republic of Congo, Lisa,, with Francisca's translation, is able to interview a variety of people in Francisca's family who have experienced the terror of the Lord's Resistance Army (LRA). Through the personal stories, one is drawn into the violent, unstable world of Eastern DR Congo where people live in constant fear of the next act of terror. The stories are real, heartfelt, and tragic all at once. Through her words, Shannon paints a picture of one family's struggle to survive even when faced with unexplainable tragedies.
At the end of the book, Shannon provides several avenues for people to become active in supporting the people of Eastern DR Congo. In addition, she provides a brief overview of the DR Congo's history since the country's independence.
At the end of the book, Shannon provides several avenues for people to become active in supporting the people of Eastern DR Congo. In addition, she provides a brief overview of the DR Congo's history since the country's independence.
December 17, 2014
*received through Goodreads First Reads
I've been aware of the LRA and Kony for about 4-5 years now, but only ever heard stories about Uganda so I was interested to read another story from a different part of Africa. It was a fast, easy read. It was emotional and really opens your mind to things that are happening in other parts of the world.
The thing that sort of bugged me was the fact that the author seemed to have a bit of a 'savior complex', especially when it came to Heritier. And she never was really able to answer questions as to why she was doing what she was doing. For example, "the strangeness was exacerbated by the fact that I wasn't sure I knew, even secretly, what my "function" was."
I've been aware of the LRA and Kony for about 4-5 years now, but only ever heard stories about Uganda so I was interested to read another story from a different part of Africa. It was a fast, easy read. It was emotional and really opens your mind to things that are happening in other parts of the world.
The thing that sort of bugged me was the fact that the author seemed to have a bit of a 'savior complex', especially when it came to Heritier. And she never was really able to answer questions as to why she was doing what she was doing. For example, "the strangeness was exacerbated by the fact that I wasn't sure I knew, even secretly, what my "function" was."
August 2, 2015
Lisa Shannon, also author of A Thousand Sisters, is an activist working to create awareness of the ongoing conflict in the Democratic Republic of Congo, where unimaginable violence has infiltrated many peaceful lives. She is a staunch supporter of Women for Women International, helping to finance their work through the Runs for Congo Women that she organizes, and it was her first book that led me to volunteer with WfW.
As is often the case, what we hear in the news can't really hit home until we hear individual stories. Mama Koko and the Hundred Gunmen tells the story of much pain and suffering, but also introduces us to the endurance and love in the individuals involved that allow them to go on, adding dimension to what we know of the conflict.
As is often the case, what we hear in the news can't really hit home until we hear individual stories. Mama Koko and the Hundred Gunmen tells the story of much pain and suffering, but also introduces us to the endurance and love in the individuals involved that allow them to go on, adding dimension to what we know of the conflict.
May 5, 2015
Shannon's second book, Mama Koko and the Hundred Gunmen, was much more powerful than her first. She captures the despair, fatigue, and hopelessness of the people of Congo. Life lived on the edge of uncertainty and poverty are difficult for anyone, but, compounded with the atrocities that face the Congolese from day to day, there is much to be uncovered and shared. Shannon has captured the the stories of a people long betrayed. Hopefully, this will be one more piece in the puzzle that leads to the healing of Congo.
March 14, 2015
This is a journal of sorts about the time, the author took a trip with her good friend to the Congo, which was in the midst of a civil war. The author's friend was born and raised in the Congo with a large extended family. Author Shannon spends her time in the Congo interviewing her friend's family. The book is a bit choppy but I am amazed she was able to put what she learned onto paper. It is well worth reading this book, sadly I am afraid we are going to continue to read many more stories similar to this one.
May 13, 2015
The true story of Mama Koko and her family. Chronicles their brutal plight for survival and sadly many deaths in North Eastern DR Congo. While the story itself was interesting (and horribly tragic) I found the writing a bit disjointed and I'm not all together sure why. I really liked this authors other book and I highly respect the work she has done to bring light to the horrors taking place in Congo.
February 16, 2016
This book follows the stories of one family in Congo as they struggle with the atrocities of the LRA and the horrors that the people there have lived through. I think this book can be a good reference for people who want to know what has been going on in Congo and it has some factual information about the history and politics of the region at the end of the book. I received this book free to review from Netgalley.
May 3, 2015
Reading about the human atrocities in the Congo and the lack of nearby help from the UN only furthered my belief that war is really about financial gain and power by the few. The author's putting stickers on the children seemed to me to be like putting a dewdrop on the desert--kind of a wasted effort.
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