“Without faith, hope, and trust, there is no promise for the future, and without a promising future, life has no direction, no meaning, and no justification.” (US writer, Adlin Sinclair) In these last few years of crisis, upheaval and ambiguity, our senses of faith, trust and hope as human beings have been seriously challenged: whom and what can we believe in and rely on, both now and going into a highly uncertain future? For many people, religious faith and spiritual practices have been a great source of comfort and inspiration during these times of Covid and other events that have often left them feeling disempowered, confused and lost. In certain countries, institutional and community trust has been a key factor in ensuring that people have kept themselves as safe as possible against Covid, according to a recent study on Pandemic Preparedness in the respected UK medical journal, The Lancet - https://www.thelancet.com/journals/lancet/article/PIIS0140-6736(22)00172-6/fulltext The study cited Denmark and Vietnam as countries with high levels of trust in their government and fellow citizens. And Rwanda would probably fit in with this categorization too, according to a separate study in 2021 on “Succeeding (and Failing) against the Global Pandemic”, that I contributed to and that was recently published in the Advances in Global Leadership journal (Volume 14) - https://www.emerald.com/insight/content/doi/10.1108/S1535-120320220000014002/full/html As for hope, many studies have cited it - or a lack of it - as a key factor in overcoming a growing number of mental health challenges, such as depression, which is estimated to affect at least one in four women and one in 10 men during their lifetime. I have been battling depression since I was a teenager. “We must never forget that we may also find meaning in life even when confronted with a hopeless situation, when facing a fate that cannot be changed,” according to the Austrian psychiatrist, Victor Frankl. But ultimately it would seem to come down us as individuals: how do I increase faith, trust and hope in myself and in those around me, whether it is at home or at work or in my community? To help answer this question, I was surprised and delighted to discover recently that the Kinyarwanda verb “kwiringira” roughly translates to both “to trust” and “to hope” in English and so I began exploring the close but complex relationship between the two. In a recent online monthly meeting of the Globally Conscious Peacemakers’ community - https://www.nadinebinder.com/gcp - I guided a conversation with 14 other people from Newfoundland to Nairobi to Melbourne on these questions: What does trust mean to you? Whom or what do you trust the most and why? What gave you hope last year? What do you hope for this year? How do trust and hope relate to each other? Which comes first? How do we build more of both for ourselves and the world? In only 90 minutes, we were not able to come up with any definitive conclusions but we did tend to agree that the two concepts of trust and hope are inextricably connected and that they bring up a lot of issues about the lasting impact of our own personal experiences in the past; our ability to be and remain alert, vulnerable and yet safe in the current moment; and our openness and acceptance of what the future may hold for each of us while attempting to shape that future in a positive, sustainable way. Part of it seems to be about attitude, determination and resilience, as exemplified by this quotation from the Dalai Lama: “Hope … is based not on the ephemerality of feelings but on the firm ground of conviction. I believe with a steadfast faith that there can never be a situation that is utterly hopeless. Hope is deeper and very, very close to unshakable, It’s in the pit of your tummy. It’s not in your head.” And part of it seems to relate taking responsibility, taking action and being accountable for those actions: “Hope just means another world might be possible, not promised, not guaranteed. Hope calls for action; action is impossible without hope,” in the words of US writer, Rebecca Solnit. All of this seems particularly appropriate during a week when we began mourning the untimely loss of the global health pioneer, Dr. Paul Farmer, here in Rwanda and grappling with the real threat of heightened conflict in Eastern Europe. And on a lighter note, these intertwining ideas of trust and hope can even affect the way we express ourselves and communicate with others. When I realized on Wednesday morning that I was not going to be able to meet my bi-weekly deadline for submitting my latest draft column to the New Times, I took the initiative, told my editor Felly the topic of my column and added: “I trust (and hope) that it is okay for me to submit the final version before tomorrow lunchtime for publication on Friday. Please confirm.” He graciously agreed and here it is! This is the latest in a monthly series of personal columns, entitled “Letter from Kigali”. Each month, local resident and writer, Jeremy Solomons – who was born and educated in England of Jewish, Lebanese and Persian heritage and naturalized in the USA - shares a unique perspective on what is happening in Rwanda, Africa and the rest of the world. The views expressed in this column are entirely those of the writer who can be reached at jeremy@jeremysolomons.com
