BANGUI, Central African Republic: Among the bunk beds in a dimly lit cell deep inside a women’s prison near the Central African Republic capital Bangui, religious murmurs take on an almost mystical aura.
Huddled around a cluster of icons, inmates jailed for “practices of charlatanism and sorcery” (PCS) pray the rosary, mustering the last of their strength as if the only recourse left to them is the divine.
Almost half of the 42 women held in the Bimbo prison facility have been accused of PCS, listed as a crime on the statute books in the poor central African country.
“It’s because of my sister Nina that they brought me here. I don’t recognize the deed for which I’m in prison,” said Sylvie in the jail’s main courtyard, where detainees prepare meals, dry their washing and watch over their children.
“My sister’s husband died because he was poorly cared for and my sister caused trouble for me,” Sylvie said in the shadow of walls topped with barbed wire.
Her innocence is not in doubt. Nina even came to apologize for what she had done, but that was insufficient. Sylvie is still awaiting trial after more than a year behind bars.
Her story is like that of many others when death or illness afflicts a family.
Whether out of sincere conviction or with malicious intent, a family member accuses a relative, a neighbor or someone else of practicing witchcraft to cause trouble.
“Sorcery always poses a problem in Central African law,” says Nadia Carine Fornel Poutou, head of the Association of Women Jurists in Bangui, which runs public awareness workshops on the thorny topic.
“It’s always mystical, so it’s difficult for a judge to reach a verdict,” Fornel Poutou said, noting that proof is difficult or impossible to obtain.
Women are always first in the line of fire.
In the absence of hard evidence, simple accusations are often enough for a conviction. Some people abuse this judicial flaw to vent their jealousy or settle scores, Fornel Poutou said.
“The vulnerable people — women, children and the elderly — are always accused of sorcery,” she said.
Bimbo prison director Roger N’Gaka-Passi confirmed that women are primary targets. “You’ll find perhaps a score of those women here ... There are few PCS cases among men.”
The phenomenon may result from women entering direct competition with men and challenging the prevailing patriarchal order, argues anthropologist Louisa Lombard in her book “Making Sense of CAR” (Central African Republic).
Sylvie is more fortunate than fellow detainees accused of sorcery. After her sister’s visit and apology, she can dare hope to return to home once released.
“In general, even if women accused of PCS (offenses) get out of jail, they run the risk of being rejected by their community, if they escape popular condemnation,” Fornel Poutou said.
With resigned sorrow, the jurist called up on her computer a photo taken in 2015 at Boali, some 100 kilometers (60 miles) northwest of Bangui. It shows the body of an elderly woman accused of witchcraft who was atrociously mutilated and cut into pieces.
Jailed for ‘witchcraft’ in Central African Republic
Jailed for ‘witchcraft’ in Central African Republic
NASA and families of fallen astronauts mark 40th anniversary of space shuttle Challenger accident
CAPE CANAVERAL, Florida: Families of the astronauts lost in the space shuttle Challenger accident gathered back at the launch site Thursday to mark that tragic day 40 years ago.
All seven on board were killed when Challenger broke apart following liftoff on Jan. 28, 1986.
At the Kennedy Space Center memorial ceremony, Challenger pilot Michael Smith’s daughter, Alison Smith Balch, said through tears that her life forever changed that frigid morning, as did many other lives. “In that sense,” she told the hundreds of mourners, “we are all part of this story.”
“Every day I miss Mike,” added his widow, Jane Smith-Holcott, “every day’s the same.”
The bitter cold weakened the O-ring seals in Challenger’s right solid rocket booster, causing the shuttle to rupture 73 seconds after liftoff. A dysfunctional culture at NASA contributed to that disaster and, 17 years later, shuttle Columbia’s.
Kennedy Space Center’s deputy director Kelvin Manning said those humble and painful lessons require constant vigilance “now more than ever” with rockets soaring almost every day and the next astronaut moonshot just weeks away.
Challenger’s crew included schoolteacher Christa McAuliffe, who was selected from thousands of applicants representing every state. Two of her fellow teacher-in-space contenders — both retired now — attended the memorial.
“We were so close together,” said Bob Veilleux, a retired astronomy high school teacher from New Hampshire, McAuliffe’s home state.
Bob Foerster, a sixth grade math and science teacher from Indiana who was among the top 10 finalists, said he’s grateful that space education blossomed after the accident and that it didn’t just leave Challenger’s final crew as “martyrs.”
“It was a hard reality,” Foerster noted at the Space Mirror Memorial at Kennedy’s visitor complex.
Twenty-five names are carved into the black mirror-finished granite: the Challenger seven, the seven who perished in the Columbia disaster on Feb. 1, 2003, the three killed in the Apollo 1 fire on Jan. 27, 1967, and all those lost in plane and other on-the-job accidents.
Relatives of the fallen Columbia and Apollo crews also attended NASA’s Day of Remembrance, held each year on the fourth Thursday of January. The space agency also held ceremonies at Virginia’s Arlington National Cemetery and Houston’s Johnson Space Center.
“You always wonder what they could have accomplished” had they lived longer, Lowell Grissom, brother of Apollo 1 commander Gus Grissom, said at Kennedy. “There was a lot of talent there.”
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