My church recently hosted a screening of the documentary Pray the Devil Back to Hell. I knew little about the film before attending the event, but what I encountered was a powerful story of women making a difference in their world. As the film description reads,

Pray the Devil Back to Hell chronicles the remarkable story of the courageous Liberian women who came together to end a bloody civil war and bring peace to their shattered country. Thousands of women — ordinary mothers, grandmothers, aunts and daughters, both Christian and Muslim — came together to pray for peace and then staged a silent protest outside of the Presidential Palace. Armed only with white T-shirts and the courage of their convictions, they demanded a resolution to the country’s civil war. Their actions were a critical element in bringing about a agreement during the stalled peace talks. A story of sacrifice, unity and transcendence, Pray the Devil Back to Hell honors the strength and perseverance of the women of Liberia. Inspiring, uplifting, and most of all motivating, it is a compelling testimony of how grassroots activism can alter the history of nations.

Theirs was a courageous and hope-filled story that gives testimony to the fact that grassroots activism does affect change, but it was also much more complex than that. It is also a story of terror, greed, and oppression. Liberia’s Civil War tore apart the nation. The President, Charles Taylor, in his greed for money and power, ruled through his roaming military bands with no regard for human rights. The opposing warlords cared little for saving the country, and made use of the same injustices to secure power and wealth for themselves. The women were tired of seeing their husbands and sons caught up in (and dying in) the pissing contest for power, of watching their children starve, of having to flee their homes, and of witnessing the rape and murder of family members. But instead of simply despairing, they decided to take a stand for peace. Taking their cue from Esther in the Bible, they wore simple clothes and began protests for peace hoping to gain the attention of the President and the warlords. They held signs, sang songs, and persuaded their priests and imans to join their cause. They withheld sex from their husbands to get them to listen to reason. And when the eventual peace talks stalled and became a joke, they staged a sit-in trapping dignitaries in the conference hall until a decision was reached. And even when the chance of democratic elections was won, they campaigned still – guiding the disarmament process, getting women out to vote, and electing for Liberia the first woman President of any African nation. Courage, passion, and intensity can barely begin to describe the commitment these women had to peace. As they got into the cause and started to see that peace might actually be realized, they were emboldened and forgot to fear. As one women put it, “we forgot we could be raped.”
The power of women to change their world was profoundly demonstrated in this film. I loved how these women were presented as always being for peace rather than against the atrocities. This perspective kept them on the path to achieving their goals. It also help them help rehabilitate the child soldiers after the war ended. The images of young boys with limbs blown off playing schoolyard games is heartbreaking – and it was even harder knowing that those women were helping their former rapists and torturers. I’ve heard similar stories of women in Nigeria and Kenya peacefully banding together to stand up to injustices. It takes vision, commitment, and more hope in a better world than there is fear of what repercussions may ensue. But it also takes a commitment to mercy and love.