Connections Archive

Lyndelle Lawrence
Public relations editorial intern

I cling to a red rope as I march with 19 other people across Sydney Harbour Bridge. We walk as if tied to one another. I concentrate on the ground in front of me, or rather on the shuffling feet of the person in front of me.

The weather forecast promised a cool temperature, but trudging under the afternoon sun, the back of my shirt begins to dampen with sweat. The heat from the passing vehicles prickles my skin.

"Please walk faster!"

Two stern eyes under furrowing brows greet me as I turn to look behind. The guide isn't impressed with our walking speed. I try my best to lengthen my strides, but between dodging hurrying passers-by and keeping my three bags from slipping off my shoulders while maintaining a firm grip on the red rope, I can only manage my current speed: slow.

We take a wrong turn down a street, a left instead of a right. We have already covered a good distance when we realise this. The others start grumbling as we turn back. An agonising hike up an inclined street and a number of pedestrian crossings later, we finally arrive at the mock camp on the Fleet Steps at the Royal Botanic Gardens.

The guide leaves us to the mercy of a woman with a microphone. Fortunately, she is a young, bubbly and energetic. She welcomes us, thanking us for participating in "The rescue" by sacrificing the comforts of home for a night.

"The rescue" is an international campaign organised by Invisible Children. This is a non-profit organisation dedicated to raising awareness of Joseph Kony and the Lord's Resistance Army (LRA), his child soldiers and the ongoing war in northern Uganda. More than 90 per cent of the LRA's troops are children kidnapped, brainwashed and trained by Kony, who, according to Invisible Children, "insists they are fighting for the Ten Commandments."

I look around me. About 1000 people must share Invisible Children's concern. We write letters to political leaders; we make phone calls to the media; we create art projects for a presentation to parliament. We want the whole of Australia and the world to acknowledge the plight of these child soldiers.

Evening comes. We march to the Hyde Park Barracks Museum where we wait to be "rescued." I huddle around the others, trying to feel comfortable in my sleeping bag and fighting off the cold city air. Sleep doesn't come. Muffled conversations, bursts of laughter, singing in three-part harmonies, the strumming of guitars and the pulsing rhythms of a drum mellow out in the spacious compound.

Raucous screams of joy mark our "rescue." It is now early morning and organisers have raised all four flags. Each flag signifies: a minimum number of letters written--2000 in total; a minimum amount of money raised; the arrival of a cultural leader or "mogul"--actor Damian Walshe-Howling; and media coverage. Though I moan about my lack of sleep, I can't help but feel like I've accomplished something big, something Jesus would do if He were here.