Martyr in Congo
Chapter 7. Faithful until death
On Nov. 28, 1964, Brother Victor Faccin and Father Louis Carrara were killed at the mission in Baraka by a second rate guerrilla chief, Abedì Masanga, a self-proclaimed colonel. On the same day, the blood-thirsty revolutionary went to Fizi, traveling 15 miles along a difficult road; during his journey he had ample time to rekindle the deep rooted hatred in his heart for the fathers of the Fizi mission.
He first headed for the house where General Shabani, the commander in chief of the Eastern section of the popular liberation army, had his headquarters. Masanga informed the General that he had slaughtered two missionaries in Baraka and expressed his intention of killing the missionaries in Fizi. Shabani was annoyed by what he heard and warned Masanga against a repetition in Fizi.
Someone heard the heated exchange between the rebel chiefs. “What do you gain by killing the priests?”, the general asked. Masanga replied: “Those in Baraka are already dead, so why should the others be spared?” He had already made his decision. At about 6 pm, Masanga’s jeep arrived at the mission of Fizi, its front seat soaked with the blood of brother Faccin.
Masanga got out of the car and called Father Didonè: no sooner had the missionary come outside when a bullet hit him in the forehead. He fell without a sound. Abbé Atanasio Joubert, who was following Didonè, had just enough time to grasp the tragic nature of what was happening. He hesitated briefly, then tried to escape, but it was too late. He was shot in the heart and fell dying among some bushes.
We, missionaries, are here in Fizi, far from our homeland, but
God is everywhere, watching over us. Let us be strong! Do not fear that the
missionaries will return home: they would rather die than abandon you.
Fr. John Didonè
Masanga had shown such ferocity against defenseless men as a means of holding onto the power he exerted over his followers. His authority had been put in jeopardy three days previously, when an ambush against regular troops had ended in disaster. With the help of experienced mercenaries, the army killed 700 of Masanga’s men who called themselves “Simba”, the lions.
The only way in which Masanga could justify such a disaster was to accuse the missionaries of spying and collaborating with the army. He needed a scapegoat to calm his people and get things back to normal. In the death of Father Didonè, however, we see an act of faith and fidelity to God made by a man who had consecrated his life to his vocation and his mission: the fidelity of a priest to his people.
Father John Didonè died in the turmoil of a guerrilla war, a victim of the racial hatred that extreme propaganda had stirred up against white people. His blood, however, was not shed in vain. Thanks to his sacrifice, and the sacrifice of many other missionaries, Christianity is alive and well in many African countries today.
A few months after the death of Fr. John, the Xaverian Fr. Victor Ghirardi found a letter he had written to one of the catechists. The following is an extract translated from the original kishwahili.
Fizi, November 9,
1964
Dear Master Raphael,
Thanks for your letter and the work
you are doing. The Vatican Council in Rome has given permission to the bishops
to place deacons alongside priests in the missions; this means that the bishop
may choose from among the catechists men of proven honesty, fidelity and zeal to
baptize and distribute communion to the faithful. These deacons may also be
married men, and they have less power than a priest. Be patient for a little
while more: soon you will have a deacon. Ask God and his Blessed Mother to give
us some peace and protection. I hope you can draw some encouragement from my
letter in the face of the difficult times that lied ahead.
We, missionaries, are here in Fizi,
far from our homeland, but God is everywhere, watching over us. Let us be
strong! Do not fear that the missionaries will return home: they would rather
die than abandon you. Do not listen to lies. We have been sent here to stay in
the mission of Fizi. Though I have not yet been able to come to you, I promise
that you will see me sometime, though I cannot say when.