The bang of the dropped box makes the four-year-old freeze and with big eyes he stares at his mother holding him, as if reassuring himself that she is still here. That they are alive.

There has been a lot of talk about trauma recently. We in Poland are, in a way, re-learning about the trauma of war, even though we thought it might be a closed chapter of history. For the Democratic Republic of Congo, the civil war is a wound that refuses to heal. There are no breaks here from explosions and shelling. The conflict only changes the place. And it forever changes something in the people, especially the smallest ones.

The adults’ trauma hurts, but the children’s trauma is heartbreaking. The fear of explosions first made Gideon cry. Later, panic and the worst thoughts when his mum didn’t return from the field for a long time. And when the fear was greater than all other emotions, the ultimate defence mechanism came into play – cutting himself off from this scary world. Gedeon stopped eating.

The pleas of his loving parents did not help. It was impossible to function normally in a world where going out to the field to get food was risking being shelled, and where every meal could be the last. When the toddler started to lose weight, the parents did their best to reach Ntamugenga – our nutrition centre. The only one of its kind in the area.

Feeding the child is only the beginning of the difficult task of rebuilding even a fraction of a sense of security. Gedeon is discovering that people can be good. Reality becomes bearable again, at least enough for him to eat therapeutic meals with relish and slowly gain weight. Will you give him a cup of such a meal today?