Tag Archive: rwanda

1. Sud Kivu Election Diary: Part I

   October 28, 2011 7:28 am Leave a Comment

   In less than a month, national elections are scheduled for the Congo.  Yesterday, official campaigning began all across the DRC.  Here in Sud Kivu, we are all holding our breath a little bit.  This will only be the third national multiparty election in the history of the Congo.

   So far, many observers see this election as a referendum on incumbent President Joseph Kabila, who took over as interim president when his father was assassinated in 2001 and won Congo’s first real national election in 2006.  Kabila’s political party is the PPRD.

   In 2006, Kabila easily carried Sud Kivu Province, as he was considered a “native son” (as opposed to “people-eating” Jean-Pierre Bemba) who reunited the country and ended the Rwandan occupation.  However, since then, Kabila’s reputation in Sud Kivu has suffered for a number of reasons:

   1)     Many “autochtone” Congolese (Babembe, Bafulero, Bashi) are angry that Kabila “shook hands with the devil” when he improved relations with Paul Kagame in Rwanda.  During Operations Kimya II and Amani Leo in 2010-2011, the boots of Rwandan soldiers were once again on Congolese soil to assist the largely unmotivated and ineffective FARDC in pursuing the FDLR.  The population of Sud Kivu, who will not easily forget how badly they suffered under brutal Rwandan occupation, are not ready to forgive Kabila for this compromise.  Even after official Rwandan presence has all but disappeared from Sud Kivu, many “autochtone” still feel that the Rwandophone ethnic minorities hold too much power in the regional governments and in the armed forces.  It doesn’t help that many high-ranking PPRD members in Sud Kivu used to belong to the rather unpopular RCD regime of the late 90s/early 2000s.

   2)     The lack of development in Sud Kivu (as well as in the rest of the Congo) is still astoundingly awful for a country so rich in mineral resources.  Early in his regime, Kabila promised great developments in the “Cinq Chantiers”, a series of improvements to five aspects of the Congo (schools, roads, etc).  However, in Sud Kivu, unemployment rates are still high, the roads are awful, and the education system is in a dismal state.  Having promised great things, many Congolese people now see Kabila responsible for the failure of development in the Congo.

   3)     Security remains very bad in Sud Kivu.  The FDLR has been pushed back further into the jungle in the past few years, but the local populations have suffered under the hands of FARDC troops.  Furthermore, there has been no real resolution to the war and insecurity, despite the fact that many armed groups have been induced to join the FARDC through promises of cash and impunity.  Many people in Sud Kivu dissatisfied by Kabila believe that he should try harder at making a deal with the FDLR, instead of continuing what they believe is a “Rwandan” war.  Thus, many hold Kabila responsible for the lawless, violent, and undisciplined behavior of state-endorsed troops, as well as the lack of resolution to the “fires in the East”.

   The discontent with Kabila’s regime explains why groups such as Mai Mai Yakutumba maintain a certain level of popularity in Sud Kivu, particularly among the Babembe elite in Fizi Territory, who resent Rwandophone ethnic minorities and feel disenchanted by their perceived lack of political power at the national/regional level.

   Kabila’s growing unpopularity in the East has also fueled a number of myths about his intentions and his origins.  It is easy to find Congolese people in Sud Kivu who will tell you that Kabila is (my goodness) a “Tutsi spy”, a puppet installed and kept in power by the Rwandan government.  There are many circulating stories about Kabila’s mother being a “Rwandan Tutsi”, which, despite their apocryphal nature, may actually be possible, given what we know about the women who orbited around Laurent-Desire Kabila.  Of course, does it really matter where Petit Joseph’s mother came from?  No.  This kind of xenophobic name-calling, unfortunately, is rather counterproductive and does nothing to improve the image of Sud Kivutians as racist Génocidaires 2.0.

   I have explained why Kabila is a rather unpopular choice here in Sud Kivu.  However, there is still the possibility that he will carry Sud Kivu in the election, given the dismal state of the political opposition.  In my next blog entry, I will write about those who will be running for president against Major General Joseph Kabila Kabange.

2. Rwanda, Nairobi, and a new Peace Fellow

   June 7, 2011 1:27 pm Leave a Comment

   Over the past week I have been absent from the blog and from Enoosaen because I took some time off to visit Rwanda (Kigali and Gisenyi) and Nairobi. I got another unexpected stamp in my passport due to an unplanned overnight layover outside of Kampala, Uganda. Thanks to my dear friends Helaina Stein (see her blog about living in Kigali) and Rachel Brown (who runs the brilliant organization Sisi Ni Amani) for taking me in and showing me a good time, a hot shower, and where to eat ethiopian food, succulent whole fresh grilled tilapia, strawberry tarts, and crusty fresh bread and bagels! As you might imagine, this has been a week of culinary bliss.

   One of the reasons I was in Nairobi is to welcome a new Advocacy Project Peace Fellow to Kenya. I’ve just returned to Enoosaen with Cleia Noia, who will be joining me on the project for ten weeks. Looking forward to the company!

   I leave you with a passage I have encountered  that really resonates with what I feel on the eve of the end of my travels this week, and as I plan further adventures in East Africa:

   “The continent is too large to describe. It is a veritable ocean, a separate planet, a varied, immensely rich cosmos. Only with the greatest simplification, for the sake of convenience, can we say “Africa.” In reality, except as a geographical appellation, Africa does not exist.”  – Ryszard Kapuściński

3. How I learned to stop worrying and love the EU

   February 18, 2011 9:39 am Leave a Comment

   I admire the European Union for many reasons: their strong currency, the ease of travel throughout Europe, the public transit, the certification of good food and wine that preserves time-honored traditions, the general collective spirit of social responsibility, the scarves that Dutch people wear while riding their bicycles. However, EU bureaucracy is giving me a headache at the moment.

   Currently, AP and ifa-Zivik are trying to get Marceline to Berlin. ifa-Zivik is about to celebrate its 20th birthday, and so they are getting together some of their local partners from around the world for a workshop on peace-building. In order to get to Berlin, Marceline only needs to apply for a Schengen (short-term) Visa. The form and requirements for this visa work for any country in the EU (wonderful), and those on a Schengen Visa can go between member states with ease. In addition, the Schengen Visa application form is available at any embassy of any member state. Sounds great, right?

   Hapana, bwana (no sir). We tried the Belgian embassy in Bujumbura, but the Belgians brusquely told us that they couldn’t process a visa for someone “from the Kivus”. They told us to try an embassy in Kigali. I sent an e-mail to the German Embassy in Kigali, and soon received a very polite reply telling me Marceline needed to go to the embassy in Kinshasa.

   Go all the way to Kinshasa? That’s on the opposite end of the Congo. Good Lord, it took Henry Morton Stanley three bloody long years to cross the territory now known as the DRC. Kinshasa and Uvira are over 2,000 kilometers apart as the crow flies.

   The Democratic Republic of Congo will soon be the second biggest country (territorially) in Africa, now that the Sudans are going to split (Algeria will be number 1). A straight-line overland route directly from Uvira to Kinshasa is virtually impossible (of course, you could take a boat on Congo River straight through all the way to the Atlantic, but doing that is like attempting to climb Mt. Everest on your knuckles). Fortunately, this modern age allows one to fly from Bukavu or Goma into Kinshasa, although at more than 800 dollars a pop, it is an expensive option.

   Kinshasa is not only far away in distance, but it is also a bit culturally removed from the East, especially in terms of language. French is the unifying language of the Congo, at least for people that are educated. However, whereas in Eastern Congo a good foundation in Kiswahili will get you nearly everywhere, in the west the lingua franca is Lingala. Fortunately Marceline knows French, and she knows Lingala from being a refugee. Uniting the different regions of the Congo under one government in Kinshasa has always been somewhat of a struggle, from the mineral-rich regions of Kasai and Katanga to the Kivus to Equateur to Badundu to Maniema.

   We are hoping that Zivik will be able to tickle some funnybones with the Deutsche Botschaft in Kigali so Marceline doesn’t have to go all the way to Kinshasa. Again, it seems strange that one cannot apply for a visa at an embassy just across the border because of their nationality. Of course, I am sure there is a bureaucrat somewhere who will wrinkle their brow and give a perfectly sound and reasonable answer why; rules are always there for a reason that makes sense to the persons that made them. Nonetheless, I still feel miffed, if at no one in particular. The Colonial Europeans divided up the “African Cake” according to their desires, modern nation-state boundaries follow the colonial borders, and now today an African is having a tough time getting a visa to visit Europe because the logistics of getting to the capital are so difficult. Ah, a tale of the post-colonial era.

   

   SOS FED director Marceline Kongolo

   One last note: when we got back home to Uvira yesterday, I found a large dead bug lying on its back on our patio. This bug was caramel-colored, about an inch and a half long, and kind of looked like a cockroach/beetle/cricket hybrid. It was hideous and succulent. I called Marceline over to take a look at it, this piece of local Congolese wildlife laying expired in our house. Marceline bent over to pick it up, whereupon the large bug started wriggling; it was not, after all, dead. Marceline took off a sandal, smashed it, and threw it into the mud outside. We stood there staring at it for a bit, and Marceline told me that these bugs can be cooked and eaten during the proper season.

   Iko butamu? (is it delicious?) I asked.

   Sana, (very much so) said Marceline, with a grin and a sigh, perhaps recalling some fond culinary memories.

   

   Congolese wildlife

4. Rose Shukurami: Details in the African tableau

   August 19, 2009 4:56 am Leave a Comment

   

   Rose Shukurami and her family

   Songolo asked Rose if she wanted to return to Rwanda.  Rose shook her head no.  This may seem strange, since Rose is ethnic Rwandan, and being married to the FDLR she is hardly a member of accepted society in the Congo.  However, once you look at the bigger geopolitical and historical picture, it makes a bit more sense.  Kagame’s Rwanda would be hardly peaches and cream for a “Hutu” attached to the Interahamwe like Rose, even if she had nothing to do with the genocide in 1994.  Rose had been in Congo even before the genocide; her daughter and grandchildren were born here, and they’ve never seen their “homeland”.

   Rwanda’s Paul Kagame and his allies, such as Yoweri Musevini in Uganda, toppled Mobutu’s regime in 1997, intending on installing Mobutu’s wily old opponent Laurent-Désire Kabila as their puppet.  The excuse for the invasion was that the Interahamwe had fled into then-Zaire and were plotting their return, with support and shelter from Africa’s consummate troublemaker Mobutu.  While this was somewhat accurate, it was also a cover for Rwanda’s neocolonialist plans for Eastern Congo.  Since the international community was very ineffectual in stopping the Rwandan genocide, and since their post-Cold War realpolitik no longer needed Mobutu, they were shamed and manipulated into playing along with and even supporting Kagame and Museveni.

   While Kagame and Museveni succeeded in pillaging Congo’s resources and terrorizing the population, they did not count on Kabila père being an extremely incapable ruler, even for a puppet, and he eventually turned his back on his Rwandan and Ugandan supporters.  In 2001, Kabila père was assassinated by one of his own child-soldiers, which precipitated another power vacuum that Congo’s neighbors tried to fill.  Instead, Joseph Kabila, the son of Kabila père, became president and rallied international support to regain Kinshasa’s control over the eastern provinces.  He even won a national election in 2006, the first real election in Congo’s history.

   Nonetheless, the government of Kabila fils is still a kleptocratic mess, and its military is now accused of committing the grand majority of sexual violence in Eastern Congo.  The armed groups kicked out of Rwanda and Burundi still operate within Congolese territory with some impunity.  In addition, international mining companies are exploiting Congo’s mineral resources with a very heavy human toll.  Joseph Kabila is definitely anything but a national hero.  In other words, things still suck.

   If you are Rose Shukurami, you have to worry about your fate if you are deported back to Rwanda, where you don’t know anyone and your chances of being persecuted for being attached to the Interahamwe.  When Kagame’s RPF took over Rwanda, they immediately started intimidating, persecuting, massacring, and assassinating anyone they felt stood in the way, both Hutu and Tutsi.  People who had sheltered Tutsis during the genocide found themselves the targets of the RPF.  The “coalition” government formed in Rwanda after the genocide did not last as a diverse coalition for very long.

   If you are an ordinary Congolese person who isn’t married to the FDLR, you not only have to worry about Rwandan FDLR and Burundian FDD marauders, but also your own notoriously brutal and predatory military, the FARDC.  To complicate things, the homegrown Mai Mai militia does not hesitate in abusing the civilian population as well.  Your country is being drained of its mineral resources, and you do not see a red cent of it.  Infrastructure is crumbling, “modern” healthcare is terrifying, and there are no jobs.

   War, violence, exploitation, and death are what these people have known for almost 15 years.  Rose’s grandchildren have never known anything different.  People in Congo are played like pawns, while we in the States yawn and flick off our televisions.  Probably not a lot of Americans know that the U.S. government gave military support to Kagame’s invasion of the Congo in 1996.  Not a lot of Americans could tell you about Congo’s state of war and upheaval from 1996 onwards, but here it is everyday life.

   Two days after our visit, Rose Shukurami, her daughter, and her grandchildren were released to the UNHCR refugee camp in Sange.

5. A Rwandan Name

   August 7, 2009 2:16 am 2 Comments

   In our final meeting, Kabera pulled out an invitation from a large folder.  “It is for our 13th anniversary celebration.  You will not be here, but I wish you could be. His Excellency will most be our guest of honor.  It will be a very special day for AERG.”

   Kabera has dedicated a tremendous amount of work to this event that will take place on August 13th at Amahoro Stadium in Remera.  He will introduce President Kagame to 4,000 of AERG’s members and honored guests, and the ceremony will celebrate AERG’s numerous achievements over the past 13 years.

   I tell him I am very sad that I will miss the ceremony.

   “When you go home, will your friends and family recognize you?” Kabera asked.

   “What do you mean?”

   “You have gotten so fat since you have been here.  I don’t know if they will recognize you.”

   “Fat?  Really?”  Gosh, I knew the french fries were taking their toll, but was it really that bad?  Maybe he was mixing up his words.  Perhaps he meant tan?

   “Yes, when you came you were very small,” he gestured towards my arm and formed a tiny circle with his thumb and forefinger.  “Now you have grown very much large.”  He used both hands to form a new circle.  Then he pointed to my stomach.

   Well, thanks for clearing that up Kabera.  I pouted.

   The waitress brought over our coffee and juice.  “Murakoze,” I said.

   “You are also Rwandan now,” he smiled.  “You speak Kinyarwanda and you know our culture.”  Hardly true, but a nice recovery.

   “You must have a Rwandan name.  From now on, you will be Kamaliza.  Kamaliza is a very good name; it has two meanings.  First, it means gold, gold that we found in the ocean.  Second, I call you Kamaliza after the very famous soldier and singer, Kamaliza.  She sang during the war and encouraged the soldiers to go on.  Although she died, her music still inspires me.  So, like as you inspire me, you are Kamaliza.”

   Ok, that made up for the fat comment.

   We finished our drinks and the time came to say our goodbyes.

   “Say hi to Obama!” he said.  “And you, say hi to Kagame on the 13th!  Tell him Kamaliza says hello.”

6. I Want to Be A Hero

   August 4, 2009 11:49 pm Leave a Comment

   Kabera, the National Coordinator of the Association des Etudiants et Eleves Rescapes du Genocide (AERG), never ceases to amaze me. In our most recent meeting, I filmed Kabera as he told me about what happened to his family during the genocide in Rwanda, his new artifical AERG family, and his hopes for the future.

   httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZTK3Jnxt3kQ

   When I asked if he had political ambitions, Kabera diplomatically skirted around the issue (he would have done great on Meet the Press), but I can only hope that he enters Rwandan politics.  Kabera is a natural born leader, and any organization or country for that matter would be in good hands with him at the helm.

7. One Man’s Word

   August 3, 2009 8:53 pm 241 Comments

   Check out this interesting article about Benoit Kabayiza, a Rwandan man, accused of genocide, living in the U.S.  The story highlights many of the controversial issues behind gacaca and justice today in Rwanda.  I’m pretty sure I don’t have the answers, and there seems to be little concensus here about what to do in cases like Benoit’s.

   H/T: Katelin

8. Denise’s Family

   July 31, 2009 2:37 pm 77 Comments

   Listen to the testimony of Denise, the Executive Secretary of DUHARANIREKUBAHO (Fight for Survival) and a survivor of the 1994 genocide in Rwanda. Despite the loss of most of her family and friends, Denise struggles to take back her life and make a difference in her community.

   httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=etkkOCoJ9wo
   

9. Albert Gasake and His Rise Above

   July 29, 2009 4:37 am Leave a Comment

   httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N4KLCCf0yQ0

   Albert Gasake, the coordinator of DUHARANIREKUBAHO, shares the story of his family during the genocide in Rwanda in 1994, and how his past motivates him to rise above and give back today.

10. Fight for Survival (DUHARANIREICUBAHO)

    4:28 am Leave a Comment

    Yesterday morning, I traveled to Butare to meet with Albert Gasake.  I thought it would be just the two of us, we would do a quick interview, and I would be back in Kigali for a late lunch.  Much to my (pleasant) surprise, however, Albert introduced me to his whole gang, the Executive Committee of DUHARANIREKUBAHO.

    

    DUHARANIREKUBAHO's Executive Committee

    DUHARANIREKUBAHO, meaning “Fight for Survival,” is an organization founded by and for orphans of the 1994 genocide.  Founded by Albert, who is now the coordinator, and his colleagues in 2004, DUHARANIREKUBAHO has over 245 members throughout the country focusing on using skills and income generating projects to “take back their lives.”

    

    Siraar and Denise

    The mission of the organization is three-fold: to provide a network for orphans of the genocide so that they can help one another overcome trauma and other difficulties; to remember the genocide through yearly commemoration activities and prevent future atrocities; and to assist members in building their skills and generating income.

    To get to DUHARANIREKUBAHO’s small one-room office, Albert and Patrick (a member that joined the meeting) took me through La Planete Cyber Cafe which I later learned is a buisiness of DUHARANIREKUBAHO, run by its members, to generate income.  In addition to La Planete, DUHARANIREKUBAHO also has agriculture projects and a bee-keeping/honey making business to benefit its members.

    

    Albert and Patrick in front of La Planete Cyber Cafe

    

    La Planete Cyber Cafe

    Albert and Patrick led me into the office where Fiacre, the vice coordinator; Denise, the secretary; Siraar, the auditor; and Dominique, the production manager; patiently waited for our meeting.  The group introduced themselves and were eager to hear more about my work with Survivor Corps and tell me about the structure and projects of their organization.

    Patrick took an album off the shelf and gave me a photo-history of DUHARANIREKUBAHO’s growth.  The images captured commemoration activities, events with trauma counselors – DUHARANIREKUBAHO works with ARCT-Ruhuka to provide counseling to their members – as well as sports and other fun competitions.

    

    Albert loves him some Obama

    After our meeting, I had a chance to do a few interviews which I will post here as I edit them.  I also gave Albert a very quick tutorial on blogging after he gushed about how much he liked my blog.

    

    Albert and me

    I couldn’t have asked for a warmer welcome from Albert and DUHARANIREKUBAHO.  It was exciting to learn about the great work they are doing and to see how the members are helping one another to “rise above and give back.”

11. “You have made us go boom”

    July 28, 2009 11:38 am Leave a Comment

    Mussolini and Francis, one of his ALSAR colleagues who is also a landmine survivor, met with me yesterday evening to go over the work they have done on their web site and their organizational documents.  We have been working on their site over the past two months.

    In our past meetings, I had given Mussolini a hard time for being late, but yesterday, he arrived before I did.  “Being on time is very important,” he told me.  I blushed.

    We walked up the ramp to Bourbon Coffee.  “How was your weekend?” I inquired.

    “It was not good.  My leg is hurting.  It is never good when my leg hurts.  They will have to cut it more.”

    As we sat in the coffee shop, Mussolini proudly showed me a document Francis and he had put together which clearly describes ALSAR’s mission, activities, and plan of action.  They had not had a lot of time to work on the web site yet, but wanted to make sure they had planned out exactly what they wanted the site to convey first.

    We went over the techniques for updating and editing content, and I gave them suggestions on how to design their pages.  I began feeling a bit disappointed that we had not accomplished more.  I think Mussolini sensed this.

    “You have made us go boom!” These words were somewhat disconcerting coming from Mussolini, a landmine survivor.

    I think he saw my hesitation.  “I mean, you have helped us to explode.”

    Hmmm… not much better.

    “Your help, on our web site, will help ALSAR grow.  We will be able to do much more with the tools you have given us.”

    Ok, I’ll take that.  But the truth is that Mussolini and Francis have given themselves the tools.  I taught them how to work with a google site, but they have overcome their injuries, faced their facts, and have chosen to live.  Although he spends many days in pain, Mussolini is determined to see ALSAR succeed.  He wants to ensure that he helps those who are going through the same mental and physical pains.  He may have lost his leg, but his spirit remains, and it is this strength and determination that will enable him and his organization to grow and succeed.

12. ENOUGH traveling…

    11:36 am Leave a Comment

    

    You can really never have enough of ENOUGH.  So, I was delighted when my former ENOUGH colleagues, Candice and Sarina, arrived in Kigali for a few days before taking off for the DRC.  We were supposed to go with Bryan to Jinja, Uganda for some serious “wild on the Nile” rafting, but due to time constraints and a few rescinded car offers, we had to alter our plans (as some might say, TIA!), but we managed to have a fantastic time.

    

    On Friday, we took off bright and early with our driver, Emmay, for Akagera National Game Park in eastern Rwanda.  Led through the park by our guide, Diana, we saw everything there was to see (minus the elephants).  Giraffes, and zebras, and hippos, oh my!  Oh, and some crocodiles, impalas, monkeys, baboons, topis, waterbuck antelopes, reedback antelopes, and bushback antelopes.  Not bad for a day’s work.  We finished off the day with a relaxing meal at Heaven; and it really was heavenly.

    

    Saturday did not go exactly as planned.  I learned late Friday night that the next day was Umuganda (“contribution”) – a mandatory morning of service that occurs every last Saturday of the month in Rwanda – and buses, motos, and taxis do not run as everyone must participate in Umuganda.  I called Sarina and Candice to inform them that our trip to Kibuye would be slightly delayed.

    I went for a walk during Umuganda and found myself quite unnerved by the absence of people and traffic on the streets.  The few cars that passed by were immediately pulled over by the police, ticketed, and forced to remain parked until Umuganda ended.  During Umuganda, everyone – from the President to government officials to those living in small villages – is supposed to particpate in projects such as cleaning the roads, doing upkeep on public property, or clearing grass around the roadways.  I have read that it is also a time for the public to speak with government officials on a casual basis, but I have not figured out how often this really happens.

    Anyway, around noon, our bus finally left for Kibuye, and took us on a most nauseating and uncomfortable ride.  Squished into a tiny matatu for three hours that raced down tightly winding mountain bends was a recipe for disaster.  Within three hours, we had two pukers.  The driver was kind enough to slightly decrease the speed with each round of vomit.

    Stepping off the bus, we were able to recover quicker than expected as we were surrounded by beautiful views of Lake Kivu.  Shortly after checking into Hotel St. Jean and enjoying a Primus on the hotel balcony, we were greeted by my first Rwandan rain storm (or rain for that matter) since I arrived in June.  We waited out the storm over dinner at Hotel Bethanie.  And then we waited.  And waited.  And waited.  Four hours later, our food arrived, we gobbled down our “sizzlers” and pasta, and headed back to the hotel.

    

    Sunday morning was overcast, but by 11am the sun was coming out and we headed out on a boat ride to Amahoro (“peace”) Island.  The ride was a good chance for Candice to confront her fears after a treacherous ride on Lake Kivu during her last visit to Congo, and a perfect opportunity for us to soak in the gorgeous views.  The island was stunning and I only wish we had had more time.  But alas, our nauseating ride back to Kigali called… and that was one ride we didn’t want to do at night.

    

    When we returned to Kigali, I said goodbye to Candice and Sarina as they headed off to the DRC today.  Be sure to check out some of the awesome work they are doing with their “Raise Hope for Congo” campaign.

    I can’t seem to load up my photos, but you can see all of our adventures in Akagera here, and photos from Kibuye here.

13. Africa Time

    July 27, 2009 5:32 am Leave a Comment

    One of the things that drives me, and most of the other bazungu I know, absolutely crazy, is the fact that here it is not only acceptable to be several hours late for meeting someone, with no obligation to call and let them know that you’ll be late, but also that it’s OK to just not show up. But there is, of course, a flip side, and I wanted to share an incident from my trip to Rwanda; while we were walking along trying to find our hotel, we stopped a young woman and asked for directions. Rather than just pointing us in the right direction and sending us on our way, she walked with us almost the whole way to the hotel, on the way telling us that she had just finished qualifying for a lawyer and was in the interview process with a job with Avocats Sans Frontiers, and that she hoped later in her career to study International Law in The Hague. Figuring that she was probably on her way to meet someone and will have been late because she was showing us the way makes me feel much better whenever someone is hours late to pick me up!

14. Gisenyi to Goma and Back Again

    July 24, 2009 2:53 pm Leave a Comment

    Last weekend, I traveled with fellow Survivor Corps Africa fellows, Bryan and Laura, to Gisenyi – a beach town in Rwanda on the border with the Democratic Republic of Congo – and then to Goma.  Laura did a nice job summing up our time in Gisenyi, so other than my pictures, I’ll let her words speak for that part of the trip.

    Goma, however, was another world.  On Sunday morning, we – Bryan, Laura, my house mate Parker, and I – crossed over the border into the Congo.  The city – if you can really call it that – is covered in dried lava, litter, United Nations vehicles, and poverty.  As we walked through the town, we quickly learned that there was not much to see or do other than avoid being attacked by the guy following us carrying a large rock (he threw the rock at passing UN trucks, but each time retrieved it and continued his stalking of the four muzungus).

    

    Goma

    

    Soccer Game in Goma

    I have done policy and advocacy work for the DRC, studied its history and current events in grad school, and have always wanted to visit.  But, perhaps I had not given enough thought to the widespread poverty and the deteriorating security situation.  It wasn’t until I returned that I got an email from Walter, the AP fellow living in Uvira, who told me that “visiting Goma would not be a good idea, especially since there are civilian massacres going on up there.”  Our short time in Goma was not only scary, but depressing.  As Goma is only one small town in a massive country experiencing these symptoms throughout, is there any hope for recovery?

    

    Goma's Beach Front Properties

    There are some organizations doing great work in and on the DRC.  Women for Women, which I visited in Rwanda, is also in Congo (which is where I sponsor a sister).  My old organization, ENOUGH, has a bunch of interesting advocacy campaigns going on (and I have been hanging out with the coordinators of the Congo campaign this weekend, learning more about what they are doing).  I will continue to support these efforts, and I know that they are making a difference, but walking through the wasteland of Goma and seeing its children with the bad fortune of simply being born there, left me feeling quite hopeless.

    

    Children in Goma

15. Cirque du Soleil a la Gisenyi

    12:58 pm Leave a Comment

    Cirque du Soleil a la Gisenyi
    

    Walking back from a day at the beach, we came upon some Rwandan acrobats in the midst of a complex and quite impressive routine.

16. A Trip to Rwanda

    3:52 am Leave a Comment

    After Bujumbura, Kigali came as a major culture shock. Rwanda’s roads are well known among old East Africa hands (talking about the state of the roads seems to be the expatriate equivalent of British people’s obsession with talking about the weather), but it still comes as a shock every time. Riding the taxi-moto, I kept bracing myself for the potholes that didn’t come. Walking to the restaurant in the evening, I kept noticing new things – like street lights and pavements – that in some ways seem so natural but in others are downright weird. I found the whole thing very disconcerting, but it was good to be in a country where everything works for a change, and good to see Lisa again and meet Bryan.

    We spent the first evening in Kigali, where we had a great Chinese meal with some of Lisa’s friends, who were mostly American but some Europeans, then the next morning up early to get a bus to Gisenyi. We got there in the early afternoon, found a hotel recommended by one of Lisa’s friends, and checked in. Then waited hours for lunch. Lisa, Parker (her housemate in Kigali) and I had all ordered pizza – which turned out to be a mistake, as it resembled nothing so much as a hard bread base with pasta sauce on top like a layer of soup. I actually didn’t find it that bad once I scraped off the pasta sauce, replaced the cheese, and ate the pasta sauce separately, but I was in the minority!

    After lunch, we headed to the beach to lie in the sun for a few hours – we used ‘muzungu power’ to walk purposefully into the Serena Hotel, to use their private beach, which was stunning and avoided inevitable uncomfortableness on the public beach next door. The beach was stunning, and the lake great to swim in – a little cold at first, and a bit of a rocky floor in a band just off the shore, and a little bit of an undertow, but that was made up for by the lack of salt, and the waves to play in, bringing out my inner three-year-old. We stayed to watch the sunset, and when the most spectacular rays had passed, wandered back into town – and on the way found a performance by the most incredibly talented acrobatics group. Unfortunately none of us had our flip camera with us, but I got one picture and I think Lisa and Bryan took some photos, some of which will hopefully come out. They were amazing though, leaping and tumbling over one another and forming the most amazing pyramids. Embarrassingly, after the performance they came over and shook hands with Lisa and I; but if you’re ever in Gisenyi on a Saturday night it’s worth wandering down to the park by the Serena to see if they’re there.

    

    

    For dinner, we followed our hotel’s recommendation and headed to White Rock, a restaurant by the lake. This turned out to be a Good Decision – one of the best meals I’ve had since I got here, delicious Tilapia in a butter sauce, with potatoes and vegetables, and a crepe with lemon and sugar for desert (the Americans found my pronunciation of ‘crepe’ very amusing) . Then off to bed – slightly challenging as it was a pretty dark night and none of us had a torch – spotting the glowing red of Goma’s volcano on the way. Went to sleep hoping that there wouldn’t be any eruptions or mudslides in the night that might cause Lake Kivu to explode and kill us all, then up in the morning to follow my long-held ambition of going to Congo – on which, a separate post above!

17. Attack on Kigali Memorial Center

    July 23, 2009 2:53 pm 1 Comment

    While the shooting at the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum made headlines across the world earlier this summer, a grenade attack at the Kigali Memorial Center last night has not had quite the same impact on the international community.  The attack on the memorial has barely made the news in Kigali.  Although no one was killed, the attack – the third in two years – is quite upsetting in a country that claims to be progressing rapidly towards reconciliation and reconstruction.  Read the one article I could find on it here.

18. From Trauma to Training: Meet Adelite

    1:34 am Leave a Comment

    httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Iiyu1tJBxJc

    Last Friday, I met with Adelite Mukamana, the Coordinator for IBUKA’s Department of Trauma Counseling.  Speaking at Nyanza – a genocide massacre site which today houses IBUKA’s offices and a memorial – Adelite shared her insight on Rwanda’s progress on trauma counseling and the advantages of Survivor Corps’ signature peer support program.  She also imparted some words of wisdom for those suffering from trauma in Rwanda and throughout the world: to help one’s self, one must help others.

19. Blood Brothers

    July 16, 2009 2:02 pm 1 Comment

    

    Charles tells his story inside Nyamata Church

    “They cut my brother with a machete.  He was bleeding everywhere.  He came to me, and said, ‘You are so very young,’ – I was eight – ‘I am going to die.  Take my blood and put it on your face and all over your body so they will take you for dead.  Lie underneath my dead body.  Pretend you are dead.’  So I did.”

    Charles spoke with little emotion as he stood in the church where all of his family and friends were murdered in the first few days of the 1994 genocide.  When the genocide began, thousands of Tutsis took refuge in the church.  In 1992, during some smaller scale killings, the Tutsis saved themselves by hiding in the church.  They thought they would be safe there again.

    

    Nyamata Church: From the outside looking in

    Pointing to a small hole underneath a pew Charles said,  “I hid my head in here, and the rest of my body under my brother.  I also hid a small baby whose mother had been killed.  Everything was very chaotic.  There was so much killing and screaming and pain, but I remember his mother dying very clearly.  She put the baby with me and when she walked away, an Interhamwe chopped off her head with one whack of his machete.  Her head rolled on the floor.  I have flashbacks to this very often.”

    Charles’ story – and the Nyamata Church – was one of the most difficult and graphic stories I have heard since I arrived in Rwanda. While many survivors have shared their stories, none have done so with such vivid imagery, in the exact location where the killings took place.

    

    Nyamata Church

    Charles’ facial expressions did not change as he calmly explained that the Interhamwe began by killing everyone outside of the church first, and then started on those inside with grenades.  When they blew open the doors, they chopped off arms and used them to wave goodbye to the other Tutsis, telling them that this was their fate as well.  Children were separated from their parents and thrown against walls.  Heads were tossed into the crowd as the Interhamwe instructed their captives to play soccer with their neighbor’s faces.  Babies were ripped from their mother’s stomachs so that the mothers were forced to watch their unborn children be killed before they too met the same fate.

    I couldn’t help but reflect on what I learned while working at the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum to be the “appropriate way to memorialize victims of genocide.”  The Museum uses privacy walls to ensure that gruesome photos are only seen by those who choose to view them, and these scenes are quite limited in number.  The emphasis is on the individual and his or her story, with the hope that people are remembered for who they were, not as simply another number in a calculated mass killing.

    In Nyamata, the church benches are littered with victims’ clothing, decaying from blood and time.   The ceiling is full of holes and bloodstains, remnants of the lives destroyed by the Interhamwe’s grenades.  Below and behind the church, skulls and bones line the walls; coffins of the few identified bodies occupy the remaining space.

    

    Skulls of Nyamata

    Charles survived because his dying brother shared his blood.  “The blood smelled very bad.  And after four days of hiding, the smell of decaying bodies was unbearable.  But I had no choice.”  He escaped into the swamps where he hid for four weeks until rescued by RPF soldiers.  Five others (out of thousands) from the church survived, one of which is the baby Charles hid; today the two are very close friends.  “While I don’t suffer from trauma, it is very difficult to have no family.  I am most sad when I remember my brothers, my twin brother and my brother who used his blood to save me.  I really miss them.”

    I can’t help but wonder how and why Charles gives these tours through his family’s graveyard.  “For me, I have no trauma,” he tells me.  “I am lucky.  I barely even cry.  But I like to tell my story.  I know you have come a long way to hear it and I hope that you will share it with everyone.  Please tell them to visit to hear my story.  This way, if we keep talking, and if we keep telling our story, it will not happen again.”

    

    Charles tells his story

20. A Rwandan Wedding

    July 12, 2009 11:51 pm 208 Comments

    httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M6TKezCUXhI

    On Saturday, Muhire took my friend, Marie, my roommate Parker, and me to a Rwandan wedding – the wedding of his childhood friend’s cousin – and lent Marie and me his mom’s traditional dresses.  We were decked out and as many of the guests told us, we looked “very smart.”

    The wedding was an all day celebration, beginning with a ceremony of the families meeting at the bride’s house, a large buffet lunch, the ceremony at the church, and a reception with traditional dancers.

    We were welcomed with open arms and given the royal treatment.  The maid of honor helped us tie our dresses, the bride welcomed us into her bridal suite, and we were seated front and center at the reception.  Personally, I think the umuzungus in the traditional Rwandan dress may have just provided some comic relief for the guests.  Either way, it was a fantastic day!  Congratulations Patrick and Ingrid!

21. “We Are Moving On”

    3:11 pm Leave a Comment

    “We can’t punish them without thinking about their future and the future of our country,” Jean-Paul Nyirindekwe, the coordinator of Travaux d’Intérêt Général (TIG) – “Works of General Interest” – told me last week when we spoke about the work of TIG, the government-sponsored program through which perpetrators of the genocide in Rwanda atone for their crimes through community service.

    Many Rwandans convicted of genocide in the gacaca courts are sentenced to community service, which is led by TIG.  TIG only began its work in 2005, but it hopes – and needs – to move quickly.  As of today, almost 8,000 perpetrators have completed their service through TIG, 26,000 are currently serving their sentences in 60 camps around the country, and 40,000 still wait to be placed into a TIG camp.

    Jean-Paul explained the three aspects of TIG’s programs: punishment, social reintegration, and reconstruction of society through development projects.  I wonder if punishment is the correct word to use in this case.

    My mind drifts to my walk to work in Nyamirambo, I pass a TIG camp with hundreds of prisoners in pink jump suits milling around the compound, usually carrying some sort of tool to do this service work.  It is a bit disconcerting to start the morning coming face-to-face with murderers and rapists.  I think of Emilienne, of Chantal and Consolee, of all of my friends who have shared their stories from 1994. I cannot imagine what this must be like for them.

    

    Genocidaires in the TIG program

    I’ve asked Albert about this before.  “It is necessary,” he said.  “It is the only way.”

    Albert and Survivor Corps are working with TIG on the third element of the TIG program, social reintegration.  Survivor Corps will provide peer support training to TIG staff and perpetrators in TIG’s programs.  In addition to this training, Survivor Corps plans to work with local government to train and deploy community-based peer outreach workers to provide sustained support to perpetrators as they reintegrate into society.  By encouraging survivors and perpetrators to work together on community service projects, Survivor Corps and TIG will work to not only rebuild communities, but to repair relations between survivors and perpetrators.

    Jean-Paul stressed the importance of TIG’s partnership with Survivor Corps.  “The social reintegration component is the major output of our program; it is our output into society and it will shape Rwanda’s future.

    (Photo credit: THOMAS LOHNES/AFP/Getty Images)

22. Mussolini Continued…

    July 11, 2009 1:45 pm Leave a Comment

    Regular readers of this blog will remember Mussolini’s story.  As a landmine survivor, Mussolini struggles to make ends meet while trying to get his organization, the Association of Landmine Survivors and Amputees (ALSAR) off the ground.

    

    Mussolini Eugene, Founder of the Association of Landmine Survivors and Amputees

    We have been trying to get together over the past few weeks, but due to problems with hisprosthetic leg, we were were not able to meet up until Friday.  Although he has spent the past week in several hospitals, dealing with expensive and painful medical treatments, Mussolini was nothing but optimistic and upbeat.  He was excited to begin work on his web site and incredibly thankful for Survivor Corps’ help.  ALSAR’s site is brand new, but with Mussolini’s dedication to the organization, I think it will be up and fully running shortly.  Check out what he’s done so far.

23. What is a Survivor?

    1:12 pm Leave a Comment

    

    Consolée and Chantal at ARCT-Ruhuka

    “Vous êtes un survivant?” I asked Consolée Mukeshimana.  During my time in Rwanda, speaking with Survivor Corps’ partners, I’ve noticed a pattern.  Every trauma counselor I’ve spoken with is a survivor of the genocide.  So, I just assumed that Consolée would fit the mold.

    Sitting in ARCT-Ruhuka’s conference room, Consolée hesitated and laughed nervously.  She looked toward Chantal, the other trauma counselor who was part of our joint-interview.  “Quelle est la definition d’un survivant?”  Consolée asked.

    What is my definition of a survivor? I was taken off guard, so I turned the question around, “Qu’est-ce que vous pensez?”

    No luck, Consolée replied, “I asked you.” I told her – in my broken French – that a survivor is someone who has experienced a traumatic, life altering, mental or physical injury; has faced and accepted his or her injury; and has chosen to continue on with life and give back to the community, in particular those suffering from similar trauma.

    Consolée relaxed a bit.  Then she said something I have not heard any other Rwandan say since I have been here, “Je suis Hutu.”  Not only is it inappropriate – and somewhat illegal – to talk about ethnicity in Rwanda today (if you were to cross politically correct lines and ask someone’s identity, you would most likely hear, “I am Rwandan”), but I had yet to meet a Rwandan so open about being a Hutu.

    There was a long pause.  Chantal chimed in, “Just because she was Hutu, it does not mean she killed.  She was in opposition to the genocidaires.  She was afraid of them. She does not know if that makes her a survivor.”

    Neither do I.  But one thing I learned during our interview is that Consolée has adopted the attitude of many other trauma counselors that survived the genocide.  In true Survivor Corps’ fashion, she has accepted the scars of the genocide, taken back her life, and is now giving back to those who suffer from trauma today.

    Following the genocide, Consolée saw that there were many people throughout the country suffering from psychological wounds.  “There was lots of stress, fear, psychological problems,” she told me.  “In 1996, I began my training to become a counselor because I wanted to help those still experiencing trauma.”  She was working as a social worker in a rural health center when Trocaire – the Christian charity that trained many of ARCT-Ruhuka’s counselors – came to her district and asked for volunteers.  It was a no-brainer for Consolée; she joined the Trocaire team, and continues her work today as a counselor with ARCT-Ruhuka.

    Chantal – a survivor who lost her husband during the genocide – has a similar post-genocide story.  She too saw the difficulties that many people faced following the genocide and began her studies to be a trauma counselor.  “It is good to talk and commemorate because memory is part of the healing process,” Chantal said.  “I help people express their emotions and overcome their fears.”

    Both Chantal and Consolée are optimistic.  There are not nearly enough psychosocial services in the country, but they believe their continued work and the peer support training that Survivor Corps has provided to their counselors will begin to bear fruit.  As more counselors gain training throughout the country, survivors will be able to assist one another in the recovery process.  Chantal and Consolée are looking forward to gaining more training in peer support and helping spread this process to other counselors throughout the country.  “Mutual experience is the best way to help,” Consolée said smiling.

24. We want to rebuild our country

    July 10, 2009 10:05 am Leave a Comment

    httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B4M0pu4vePs

    On Wednesday, Kabera invited me to join him on a site visit to the Lycee de Kigali (LDK), a prominent boarding school that President Bush stopped by during his one-day visit to Rwanda in February 2008.  The members of the AERG Managing Committee (MC) – Kabera and other university student leaders – dedicate the hours that they are not in class and not doing other work for AERG to visiting local AERG chapters at high schools and universities around the country.

    

    During a three-hour meeting in the school’s gymnasium, Kabera and his team held the attention of an audience of about 75 high school students members.  Kabera speaks with confidence and maturity, and it is immediately clear that everyone in the audience has great respect for him. The goals of the meetings are to inform members about AERG’s progress and latest activities, to discuss any problems in the chapter, and to provide general support for one another.

    

    AERG families are introduced at the meeting

    The meeting began after a prayer and a one-minute moment of silence in commemoration of the members of their families that died during the genocide.  Constance, the coordinator of the LDK chapter called out the names of each family (groups of about ten students who provide the kinship of a family to one another, since many of AERG’s members have no other family), and as the family name was called, the members stood up to be acknowledged by the MC.  Following family introductions, the AERG MC discussed recent developments and each member gave lectures on various topics: how to get good grades and the importance of studying, proper behavior during school and during the holidays (many students don’t have families to go to during the holidays, so the AERG MC provides their addresses and phone numbers for those who do not have a place to go or anyone to contact), and not fighting with fellow classmates.

    “As members of AERG, you have responsibilities,” Kabera tells the students.  “You must help one another and be each other’s families, you must have love for each other, and you have to struggle to ensure that genocide never takes place again.  To do these things, we must study hard, behave well, and protect one another from disease, AIDS, and violence.  We must create a friendship.  We must have a kinship among AERG and among all Rwandans.”

    

    Kabera addresses the Lycee de Kigali AERG members

    All of the students rise and begin clapping as they break into song.  “It means, ‘we want to rebuild our country’,” Amos, one of the members of the MC whispers in my ear.

25. A Survivor’s Dream

    July 9, 2009 3:30 pm Leave a Comment

    httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VsI3Gcuo2tI

    Above is a video interview with Emilienne Mukansoro, a genocide survivor and a trauma counselor with IBUKA who works with women who have experienced sexual violence.  Emilienne’s story is difficult to listen to, but her experience as a survivor has shaped who she is and what she does today.  After the interview, Emilienne told me that she thinks peer-support is a wonderful way to heal the wounds of survivors, both those who are suffering today and those who have overcome their trauma.

26. Gacaca: From Cows to Genocide

    July 8, 2009 10:22 am 1 Comment

    “Once I know the truth, I can forgive,” Albert told me a few weeks ago.  “This man, he burnt my grandmother alive in her house.  He is in jail and refuses to testify in front of gacaca.  If he did testify, and if he told the truth, I would accept him into society.”

    The concept of gacaca and reconciliation in Rwanda is something I have struggled to understand since I learned about it many years ago.  How can simply admitting your crimes – killing, raping, genocide – and serving community service be sufficient for forgiveness from survivors and victims’ family members?

    The gacaca court, a traditional judicial process, originated in Rwanda and was originally used to settle village disputes.  Following the genocide in 1994, as the country struggled with overcrowded prisons and a need to speed up the judicial process, the government returned to the gacaca process to expedite trials.  The gacaca courts allow the entire community to take part in the judicial process, with the hope that they will promote truth, healing and reconciliation.  The courts have been the subject of criticism from various angles – that the judges are not chosen fairly, that the courts are bias toward either the survivors or the defendants, that the courts lead to retribution killings – but the majority of Rwandans that I have spoken with all claim that this is the best option available.

    

    Gacaca Court proceeding

    I decided that the only way to comprehend gacaca was to observe a trial firsthand, so after loads of paperwork and various meetings, I obtained a permit to visit a proceeding.

    The day before my visit, I shared a beer with my friend Muhire – who kindly served as my translator during gacaca – to talk about what we would see and hear during the trials.  I asked if he thought the courts were fair and what they did when they heard contradicting stories.  “What do the judges do if it is just one man’s word against another man’s word?”

    “It is never like that,” he said. “In Rwanda, you eat something at your house, and everyone else knows what you ate.  No one killed alone, there are always witnesses or people who know what happened.”

    I didn’t buy it, but I would have to wait and see for myself.

    The next morning, we set out for Ruhango bright and early.  In Ruhango, we met up with Emilienne Mukansoro, a counselor with Ibuka who graciously accompanied us for the day (interview with her coming soon…).  We set out on the most nauseating forty-five minute taxi ride of my life to a small village in the hills.  Upon arrival, we learned that the man who was supposed to testify had died the night before and gacaca had been canceled.  Muhire assured me that the man had been sick for a long time, but I had heard from others that this was not an unusual occurrence before gacaca.

    “No problem,” Emilienne told us, “We will go to the village in those hills.”  She pointed in the distance, and I knew we were in for another bumpy ride.  A few wrong turns and an hour later, we reached the town of Akagari ku Nyakabungo, where we would finally observe two gacaca trials.

    We sat in the grass amongst about fifty other members of the village – men, women, and babies – who were all suddenly more interested in the muzungu than the trial.  Emilienne showed my permission to the Inyangamugayos – “people of integrity;” 5 or 6 judges known as the wise and trusted members of the village; both men and women – and they nodded, approving my presence.

    

    Inyangamugayos

    In the first case we observed – a property case – a woman accused a man of stealing and slaughtering her cow during the genocide.  The man told his side of the story.  He claimed that he had seen others with meat, had asked them to share it with him, and they told him where he could find his own meat.  He then went to this place and took the meat, but he did not know it was stolen.  A man came to his defense and told the court that the woman did not see who stole the cow and was unfairly accusing this man.  Another man took the woman’s side.  Various others passionately, but politely, shared their recollections of the history of the woman and her cow… fifteen years ago!

    While I was amazed that not only those involved, but the fifty others quietly spending their Tuesday morning listening to the case, would care about a cow that might have been stolen in 1994, Muhire and Emilenne grew bored.  They told me we would go listen to a more “interesting” case in a field about 100 feet away.

    In the next case, a man in a torn coat and raggedy pants stood before the panel of Inyangamugayos, who charged him with three crimes: killing, killing with intent, and burning two daughters of his neighbor.  Witnesses claimed that he buried the remains of the girls and their clothing in his house.  He denied these accusations and said he was being tried unfairly.  While the defendant and the witnesses spoke passionately, no one interrupted anyone else and the judges took copious notes, asked questions to try and uncover the truth about each event mentioned, and called various witnesses who were not even at the trial (a man was designated to get these witnesses from other trials or from other locations in the village).

    We did not get to stay for the end of the trial so I don’t know the verdict – it was far from over when we left, and we wanted to get back before dark – but it didn’t look good for the defendant.  Muhire predicted that he would get at least ten years in jail.

    While we were waiting for our motos to take us from the village to Ruhango, a group of children on their way home from school spotted the umuzungu (yours truly) and rushed over to say hello.  As I took their photos and then turned the digital camera around to show them the images, they squealed with delight.

    

    Children in the village

    The moto ride back was not nearly as nauseating as the taxi rides, but the chance of death escalated severely.  As I clung to the driver’s waist for dear life, I mulled over the trials I had just seen.  I thought after visiting gacaca I would have all of the answers (or at least some), but the visit only multiplied my questions.

    Was this really justice?  Can the survivors truly accept those that committed genocide and went through gacaca back into their communities?  Will there be retribution crimes?  Are the punishments fair? Can people really remember who stole property fifteen years ago and testify truthfully?  Up to a million people dead; who cares about a cow?  Can gacaca lead to genuine reconciliation in Rwanda?  Will the children that so happily and innocently played with me while their parents sat in the grass participating in gacaca feel that justice was served?  Will they be able to live with their history in peace and unity?

    While visiting the courts may have only raised more questions in my mind, it did clarify that I may never truly understand gacaca, and perhaps the children of those participating in the trials – the kids of Akagari ku Nyakabungo and others like them throughout the country – are the only ones who will ever truly know the answers.

    *A special thank you to Muhire and Emilienne who made my visit to gacaca possible.

    **For more photos of the visit, click here (I was not allowed to take pictures from the second case, so all of the photos are from the first property trial).

    ***For an interesting (and controversial) read out on gacaca, check out Philip Gourevitch’s New Yorker article, “The Life After.”

27. Profile of a Fellow

    July 5, 2009 3:04 pm Leave a Comment

    httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aijCEkpzOqI

    Better late than never, here’s my video profile…

28. Notes from Bukavu

    July 1, 2009 6:07 am 1 Comment

    

    Bukavu, on the shores of Lake Kivu

    Ned and I recently returned from a short trip to Bukavu, trying to secure living arrangements and such for an Advocacy Project fellow that will be working there this coming month.  Bukavu is a larger city north of Uvira that sits on Lake Kivu.  There is but one good way to get from Uvira to Bukavu: taking a minibus, or agence.  The agences have colorful, distinctive names, such as Okapi, Arc-en-Ciel (rainbow), and Colombe (dove).

    If you take the safer, less scenic route from Uvira to Bukavu, you travel through Rwanda for a short distance.  The differences once you cross the border into Rwanda are startling; in Rwanda, all the roads are paved and lined with cement drainage ditches.  Most of the rural towns have shiny new electrical wires running to all the houses.  Thus is the plunder of the Congo.

    By the way, a visa to Rwanda is free for American citizens, but it seems that citizens of European francophone countries have to pay $60 to even get a transit visa through Rwanda.  My interactions with Rwandan border and immigration officials were cordial once they saw the American passport.  On a larger geopolitical scale…

    After driving through Rwanda for about half an hour, you arrive back at the Congolese border and into Bukavu.  Once in Bukavu, the world descends into chaos.  Since it is the dry season, it is incredibly dusty, and a lot of things just do not work (electricity, roads, water).  Nonetheless, Bukavu is blessed with a mild climate from Lake Kivu.  If you squint just right, the hillside surrounding the lake looks like it belongs in Italy, and the houses look like idyllic villas.  There are also an abundance of natural gas deposits in the DRC-side of Lake Kivu.  The DRC extracts the natural gas and sells it to Rwanda; proceeds from the sale go to pad the pockets of the people in charge.  Thus, Bukavu is yet another city where you will not see the riches of the Congo.

    Recommended reading: Africa’s World War by Gérard Prunier.  In his book, Prunier neatly dissects the conflict that has engulfed Central Africa since the Rwandan genocide of 1994.  Prunier’s book is very up to date (published in 2009) and gives comprehensive background information on all the countries involved in the conflict.  I find Prunier’s book to be an excellent and well-rounded resource to catch up with this conflict that the mainstream American media has largely ignored.

29. Article: UN-backed militia terrorizing civlians

    June 29, 2009 5:53 am Leave a Comment

    As I have been writing recently about the Mai-Mai militias in North and South Kivu, I wanted to offer up this article from the Irish Times speaking about the links between MONUC, the UN peacekeeping operation in Congo, and this militia, which is famous for their arbitrary attacks, ‘side-changing,’ and their medication taken to deflect bullets and RPG rounds (called ‘mai,’ which is appropriate as it is made of a mixture of herbs, water-mai is Swahili for water, and local booze).  It’s said to make you invulnerable, but I’ve definitely seen the opposite to be true following FARDC vs. Mai-Mai battles.

    This article definitly speaks to the chaos which could break out if this current operation againt the FDLR (called ‘Operation Kimya’ [Swahili for ‘quiet,’ or ‘silent’]) ends up anything like the last December offensive, which was a part of Kimya as well and a disaster.  FDLR massacres in remote villages have already begun again with the growing pressure on their bases, and they are not ignorant to the fact they are soon to be ‘hunted’ in eastern Congo again, causing violent backlashes against Congolese.

    Take a look at this article and let me know what your thoughts are.  I am confused as you might be.

    Ned Meerdink

    Terrified civilians say a UN-backed military force is raping, looting and killing villagers at will: Minova/Sud Kivu, Congo

    by STEPHANIE MCCRUMMEN in the IRISH TIMES, 28 June 2009
    

    A CONGOLESE military operation against Rwandan rebels who have caused years of conflict in eastern Congo is unleashing fresh horrors across this region’s rolling green hills.

    The mission, backed logistically by UN peacekeepers and politically by the US, aims to disband the remaining 7,000 or so Rwandan Hutu rebels who fled into eastern Congo after the 1994 Rwandan genocide.

    But since the operation began in January, villagers have recounted nightmarish stories that raise questions about whether the military action will ultimately cause more destruction than it prevents.

    At least half a million people have fled a rebel campaign of village burnings and retaliatory killings, including a massacre of more than 100 people in which several civilians were decapitated. At the same time, people are also fleeing the advance of their own predatory army – a toxic mishmash of mostly unpaid, underfed, ill-trained former militiamen churned into the military after various peace deals.

    According to an army spokesman, the deputy to the commander in charge of the operation is an ex-militia leader and wanted war crimes suspect known as the Terminator. Villagers say soldiers are killing people accused of collaborating with the rebels. And in scenes that recall the brutalities of Belgian colonial rule, commanders are forcing locals to carry supplies across the forest, killing those who collapse from exhaustion.

    “Pastors, teachers, students, everyone must carry, and not for one day, for weeks,” said Kalinda Hangi, a former teacher who has filled a notebook with names of people killed by the rebels and the army in his area. “They make you build their tents, take water – if you don’t obey, they kill you.”

    In its mission, the army is being supported by trucks, food, attack helicopters and other equipment provided by the UN peacekeepers, but the co-operation has spawned criticism.

    Humanitarian workers say the operation has paralysed assistance to newly displaced persons, and a UN inter-agency committee last month described “a fundamental conflict” between the UN support of the army and the world body’s mandate to protect civilians.

    “This operation is definitely doing more harm than good,” said Julien Attakla, who heads the UN human rights section in North Kivu province, where the operation has been centred. The rebels “have never been as dangerous to the population as they are now. And the Congolese army – what are the chances of them carrying out a successful operation? They are looting houses, looting farms, raping everywhere, using forced labour – that’s the real face of this operation.”

    Diplomats from the UN, Europe, the US and especially from neighbouring Rwanda have pressured Congo for years to act against the Hutu rebels, who are known as the FDLR (Democratic Liberation Forces of Rwanda) and include leaders accused of helping organise Rwanda’s genocide.

    Although they are no longer considered an immediate threat to the Rwandan government, the rebels have in the past collaborated with the Congolese army, sharing weapons and fighting against common enemies. The rebels have set up parallel administrations in many areas, preying on villagers and controlling much of the region’s lucrative mineral trade.

    Their presence has prompted Rwanda to invade Congo twice, and to back two Congolese rebel movements, fuelling a complex conflict that has become the deadliest since the second World War.

    By some estimates, the fighting and related turmoil have left at least five million people dead over the past decade.

    US and UN officials say the operation – initially supported by thousands of Rwandan soldiers – is a crucial part of a wider political and economic deal to mend the destructive relationship between Rwanda and Congo, and to return stability to Congo’s long-suffering east. They say the operation has forced hundreds of rebels to desert and has disrupted their command and weakened their hold on the mineral trade, though analysts dispute the latter two gains.

    Top UN officials say that if they were not co-operating with the army, human rights abuses would be worse.

    “We’ve been mandated to support this army, and we are trying to the best of our ability to improve their performance and protect civilians,” said Hiroute Guebre Sellassie, head of the UN office in North Kivu province.

    Still, there have been dozens of rebel attacks since the operation began, many advertised in advance by rebels who have left leaflets in villages promising death to anyone who helps the army.

    The most brutal attack came last month in the village of Busurungi, where at least 100 people were massacred, according to several survivors.

    The army had taken up position in the formerly rebel-held village, but most of the soldiers had moved on by the time the rebels arrived one night. A few militiamen tried to fight back, but ran out of ammunition.

    “They called us civilians and said, ‘Our bullets are finished, try to run’,” said Angelus Bahavu, secretary to a traditional king in the area.

    As he ran, he saw rebels force screaming women and children back into their huts, which they set on fire. Rebels guarded the doors to prevent anyone from escaping, he and others said. The rebels slammed babies against trees, and people fleeing were killed with arrows, machetes and guns.

    In a tactic aimed at terrorising those who might co-operate with the army, rebels decapitated several people, whose heads were then placed on tree branches planted at the entrance to the village.

    “They told people, ‘You are bringing these troops to hunt us, now we will hunt you’,” said Bahavu, who eventually made his way to a sprawling camp of banana-leaf huts. – ( LA Times-Washington Post )

    
    

30. A weekend in Rwanda

    June 22, 2009 1:20 am 258 Comments

    This weekend I went up to Butare in Rwanda to meet up with Lisa, the Survivor Corps fellow in Rwanda. Journey up on Friday went smoothly (very smoothly – the roads are excellent), apart from a slightly weird incident at the Rwandan border – went and got my entry stamp – then they called me back:

    Lady at border: You don’t have a visa

    Me: I know, I didn’t think I needed one

    Lady at border (who, bear in mind, has already looked at my passport, written me in the book, and stamped my passport): Where are you from?

    Me: The UK

    Lady at Border: No, you don’t need a visa.

    All a bit odd. Then got to Butare, met Lisa after about an hour, and worked out how we were going to get to Nyungwe the next day; got a bit confused about why they were telling us there were no buses returning (odd since there are buses going… are they all in Congo?), but eventually worked out we could get a ‘taxi’ back (again confusing till we worked out that taxi = matatu). So found somewhere to stay, went to the very good National Museum, where I learnt lots of new stuff about Rwanda, especially on the manufacture of pots and construction of traditional houses, and had dinner with a friend of Lisa’s who happened to be in Butare, and an American girl who was on her own and who joined us – very nice dinner, and an opportunity to compare the Rwandan Primus with the Burundian version (I prefer the Burundian; it’s light and a little sweet, which is what you want when it’s hot).

    

    Next day, we headed to Nyungwe – literally crammed into the minbus; I was uncomfortable sitting across two seats, but poor Lisa was next to The Most Selfish Man In The World, sitting with legs wide open and cramming her feet together till they lost the blood. I also had to put up with the classic ‘do you have a boyfriend’ ‘yes, he’s very big and aggressive’, ‘where is he’, ‘England’, ‘that’s a long way’, ‘no it isn’t’, ‘don’t you want to marry a Rwandan’, ‘no’, ‘why not? I’m a basketball player’ ‘that’s nice’ conversation with the guy next to me, but luckily after about 10 minutes he succumbed to car sickness and spent the rest of the journey with his head in his hands, moaning softly. But it was worth it – Nyungwe was stunning – much more open than any of the tropical rainforest I’ve been to before, with jaw-dropping views across the hills. Unfortunately we weren’t able to track monkeys as the Chimpanzees had chased them into a different part of the forest, but we went for an awesome hike with a guide called Robert, who told us that he had grown up in Uganda but had returned, and had studied Agriculture before finding a job in the National Parks Service partly through his elder brother. He was very knowledgeable and told us all sorts of interesting things about the plants in the forest, as well as that the park had had elephants until 1999, but they had all been poached – there are plans to reintroduce them from Cameroon. Great hike, and our worries about the way back evaporated when we met some American girls with space in their car who gave us a ride.

    

    That evening was a little stressful trying to get the key to Lisa’s friend’s room from a guy called David – we’d left some stuff there – but found it in the end and enjoyed a celebratory Primus over an awesome (if unexpected) Chinese meal. Then off home, to sleep… until a ghostly and persistent tapping on the window! We at first assumed it was just a random noise, but when it went on for some time, Lisa suggested it might be someone at the door. I opened the curtain to find someone looming out of the night – luckily it was just someone from the front desk telling us they’d found a spare key, but it was a very scary moment!

    Next morning had breakfast, with a very odd waiter deciding to read the menu aloud for us, before bringing me a cup (and no tea) when I asked for a cup of tea, and pointedly tapping the bill on the table in front of us at periodic intervals as we ate. Then the bus home – slight delays, but got the front seat! One last conversation to leave you with, taking place as the bus took the racing line around mountain roads at 100kph, with the driver blaring out deafening rap music:

    Guy next to me: Where are you from?

    Me: UK, how about you?

    Guy next to me: I live in Rwanda but I work in Bujumbura

    Me: Cool. What do you do?

    Guy next to me: I rent out cars, luxury cars. If you want to rent a car you should call me.

    Me (gazing at him in disbelief): Monsieur, if I could afford to rent luxury cars do you really think I’d be on this bus?

    All in all an awesome weekend, great to meet Lisa, who I feel as if I’ve known for far longer than 2 days, and a nice break from Burundi!

31. Resurrection

    June 18, 2009 9:03 am Leave a Comment

    In 1993, when Eugine Mussolini was fifteen years old, he stepped on a landmine while trying to join the RPF forces in Rwanda’s eastern province.  Doctors performed successive operations on his left leg, amputating more each time.  Today, he must replace his prosthetic leg yearly to avoid further infection, and he must pay for this out of his own pocket.

    “My first thought was, ‘I am crippled.  My world is over.'” Mussolini told me yesterday afternoon as we sat in the restaurant at Chez Lando.  “But after talking about my challenges, I faced my problems, and accepted how I am.  There is nothing I can do but overcome.”

    And overcome he has.  Besides working full time for the Ministry of Finance, he runs the Association of Landmine Survivors and Amputees (ALSA) on a volunteer basis.  ALSA does not have the money to hire staff, open an office, or create brochures and advocacy materials.  Despite these significant setbacks, a group of over 30 ALSA members meets every Saturday to support one another – they have begun using the peer support methods they learned during Survivor Corps’ recent training – and contribute whatever amount each can give.

    I will be working with Mussolini to develop a business plan, create a budget, design a web site, and strengthen ALSA’s advocacy efforts.

    Mussolini ended our meeting on a high note. “Life continues,” he said, “When we can change a survivor’s mindset, teach that person to overcome, and to help himself, we call it a ‘resurrection,’ both for the him and for us.

32. Q: What do Burundi, New Zealand, and Canada have in Common?

    6:14 am 260 Comments

    A: They all live in the shadows of larger, richer, more powerful neighbouring countries, often get confused with those countries, and really hate it!

    The attitude of the Burundians towards their Rwandan neighbours has amused and interested me since I got here. As I blogged in my first post, the two countries have a lot in common, in terms of the same ethnic structure, the same colonial history, and a similar history of ethnic war. However, Burundians are keen to distinguish themselves from Rwanda at every opportunity, drawing favourable comparisons between almost every aspect of Rwandan society and their Burundian equivalents. I find these comparisons very interesting, and hope to blog at more length on this once I’m surer of my ground. But they also amused me, because I couldn’t put my finger on what they reminded me of  – until I was watching South Africa vs. New Zealand with Brian:

    Brian: Where’s New Zealand? Is it in Australia

    Laura (laughs uproariously) : No! And never say that to a New Zealander!

    Brian : They don’t like it?

    Laura (in a rare moment of brilliance): It’d be a bit like if you told someone you were from Burundi and they asked if it was in Rwanda!

    Brian’s look of horror told me that I’d picked the right comparator!

33. Albert’s Got a Blog!

    June 17, 2009 9:17 am Leave a Comment

    This morning Albert and I got his new Survivor Corps blog up and running.  It’s still a work in progress, but check out his first post!

34. Regional Ruminations: Religion

    June 15, 2009 7:18 am 3 Comments

    As anyone who has lived in Uganda will know, they take their religion very seriously indeed, with half the shops and businesses having religiously-oriented names – the ‘God is Great Butcher’ or the ‘Jesus Loves You Hair Salon’. After the improvement in the state of the roads, one of the big shocks of crossing the border from Uganda into Rwanda is the immediate disappearance of these names. The reason is even more distressing; the people of Rwanda turned away from religion en masse after the participation of many priests in the genocide.

    Burundi lies between the two; religion is there, but not worn on their sleeves. A few shops have somewhat religious titles, but subtle, as, as I have blogged earlier, they seem keener on ‘peace’. The Catholic Church has historically been the dominant force and retains a powerful position, despite a period of repression under Bagaza (Tutsi military dictator number 2 of 3) between 1976 and 1987. However, there is also a fairly large Greek Orthodox community – the Greeks arrived en masse with the Germans, trading across the lake, and stayed through most of the 20^th Century, building a church even bigger than the Catholic Cathedral in the process. Greeks have also played a part in the country’s history; Prince Louis Rwagasore, the first Prime Minister of independent Burundi, was assassinated by a Greek settler in the pay of his political opponents. According to Pierre Claver, a fairly significant Orthodox population remains, a mixture of Greeks who have stayed throughout, and people converted over the years. His confusion at my fascination with the church also reveals how established the community is, and how it is taken for granted in Burundi – and this makes me keen to investigate whether there are similarly large populations elsewhere that I’ve somehow missed.

    

     

    As in Rwanda, there have been changes due to the war; the Catholic Church lost ground to various strains of evangelical Protestantism, as the conversion of Pierre Claver’s family shows. Finally, there is a small Muslim community – estimates range between 5% and 13% of the population – and there are some indications that this is growing as a result of the role played by Muslims during the war, when they showed enormous courage in protecting large numbers of Hutus and Tutsis alike. However, unlike Kigali, Bujumbura remains full of churches, and gospel music is popular. Nearly everyone I speak to tells me that things are good ‘thanks to God’, and that they hope for peace ‘with the Grace of God’ or tell me early in conversation that they are a Christian, and asks what denomination I am*.

    I think this moderation is one of the things I like about the country; I found Uganda’s evangelical fervour somewhat disconcerting, and generally used to dread the occasions when it was my turn to lead the prayers at work meetings. Similarly, there is something eerie, if understandable, about Rwanda’s empty churches and mass abandonment of faith. Attributing good fortune to God, discussing religion over beers, going to church every now and then, and good-natured inquiries about others’ faith seem much more normal and healthy. It may also have positive benefits; Uganda’s first lady’s enthusiasm for promoting abstinence may be one reason for the start of a rise in HIV infection rates, while Rwanda – and Burundi in the past – showed the way in which a powerful church can become a tool for marginalisation. It may be hoped that this seeming lack of interest in mixing church and state can help Burundi to avoid either pitfall in future.

    * Happily I have yet to meet an Anglican, so have yet to be invited to church. It may also be because Europeans are known for being heathens, and they’d rather not know.

35. Don’t Stop the Music

    June 12, 2009 7:12 am 1 Comment

    “Do you like hip hop?” Kabera (formerly known to blog readers as Jean-Paul; he told me this afternoon that he prefers to go by his family name, Kabera) asked me this morning as we waited for the slow Internet connection at AERG’s offices to upload his photos.

    As Rihanna set the mood, we began to put together AERG’s first web site, a very simple google site that will allow Kabera and his colleagues to share information about their organization, post photos, and allow their members to share their testimonies with the world.

    About an hour earlier, Kabera shared his story with my me.  We began our interview by discussing AERG’s mission and how he gained the position of national coordinator.  As the interview went on, we delved deeper and he told me about his own experiences during the genocide.  He spoke of the murder of his father at the very beginning of April; he had gone to the Church for refuge – “a place of God” – and then the massacre of his entire family when they were discovered hiding in the marshes.  They tried to kill him too, slashing his neck and leg with a machete, but he managed to survive.

    “It is very difficult,” he said several times, “It is very difficult to talk about this.”  But he continued on; he wants to ensure that the world knows what happened to his family and to him.  He wants to ensure that it never happens again, in Rwanda, or anywhere in the world.

    He talked of his new, “artificial” family, the family gained through AERG.  While he is the “father” of his organization, at his university, in his small “artificial” family of 12, he is a kid.  And he loves being a kid.

    “Sometimes it is just fun to be a child,” he says with a smile.

    The interview went on for close to an hour as Kabera shared the most difficult details of his story, the challenges he faces as the leader of AERG, and the hope he has for Rwanda’s reconciliation and peace.  I’m hoping to figure out how to edit the footage, and will hopefully get something resembling a video up soon.

    Following the interview, he asked me about my family – if I have both of my parents, how many siblings I have, if I am married or have a boyfriend – and I felt guilty with each reply.  I think he sensed my discomfort, and chimed in, “I am very happy with my new family.  We provide each other with great love and care.”  He smiled and clicked on some Rwandan tunes.

36. “Look! It’s Africa!”

    June 2, 2009 10:25 am 1 Comment

    “Look! It’s Africa!”

    I am finally about to drift into a wine induced slumber (wine is free on Ethiopian Airlines!) on the second leg of my 18 hour flight to Addis Ababa, when my traveling companion – a 20 year-old Ethiopian now living in Detroit and studying engineering – pokes me and points towards the small plane window.

    “Look!  It’s Africa!”

    His eyes light up as he tells me we are flying over Libya.  He is returning to Ethiopia for the summer to visit family that he hasn’t seen in five years (when he came for his first, and permanent, stay in the US).  We talk about his grandmother who lives a three day drive from Addis; he tells me about how he will turn 21 when he returns to the states and plans to “party hard core;” and when I ask him why he chose engineering he tells me about his dreams to earn enough money to bring his brothers and sisters to Michigan one day.

    About an hour later, I notice on the TV monitor that we are crossing over Khartoum.  Sunset over Sudan.  Funny, I always pictured my first trip to Africa in Darfur, or Congo, or a country experiencing egregious human rights abuses.  But instead, I am heading towards Kigali… Africa’s Asian Tiger.  But perhaps Rwanda is an appropriate place to start.  While the country has its problems and still has a long way to go, it is a ray of hope for places like Sudan and the Central African Republic.

    During the flight, I have quite a bit of time to contemplate what I’ll be doing when I get to Kigali and why I’ll be doing it.  Waiting to board at the Dulles airport, I overheard several conversations of Americans going to Africa “to help” the people that are suffering.  And while well intentioned, I’m not sure that is what I will be doing, what I want to be doing, or what I should be doing.  Does Rwanda, or Africa for that matter, need to be saved?  And if so, what do I have to offer in that regard?

    I hope and believe that the work I do will be meaningful, but perhaps, Rwanda will be helping me.  The people of Rwanda have incredible stories to share and their courage and perseverance will inspire me.  And maybe my most important contribution to the country is an investment to share its stories with the world.

37. My bags are packed and I’m ready to go…

    May 27, 2009 11:51 am 238 Comments

    Rwanda is the land of a thousand hills. Or so I’m told.

    I’ve also been told that the country is rapidly rising – economically and socially – through investment, technology, and an impressive work ethic.

    I know I’m not allowed to bring plastic bags into Rwanda, nor can I get on a motorbike taxi without a helmet. If I want to go see the gorillas in Virunga National Park, I have to make reservations months in advance. Friends and colleagues have told me that Kigali is one of the safest cities in Africa and that it’s a relatively easy place to live.

    I also know about Rwanda’s darker history; the genocide that began in April 1994 and that resulted in the massacre of almost one million Tutsi and moderate Hutus. I have read about the Arusha Accords and the plane crash of President Habyarimana that eventually incited the events of 1994 for which Rwanda is most well known. Over the last semester I have researched the current political situation in Rwanda and written about the political and social rise of women after the genocide.

    

    Courtesy of the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum

    I have done my homework and learned a great deal about what I will be doing in Rwanda as an Advocacy Peace Fellow working with Survivor Corps, an international organization, formerly known as the Landmine Survivors Network. I’m excited to meet Albert, my Survivor Corps colleague based in Kigali, and begin working on a survey project and documentary about Survivor Corps peer support program.

    httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YQsZ4RCHk90

    All in all, I consider myself well informed about Rwanda’s history, political and economic situation, its potential for growth, and the organization I’ll be working with this summer. Yet, as I pack my bags, make housing arrangements, pick up my malaria prescription, and begin saying goodbye to friends, I have no idea what to expect when I arrive in Kigali on June 2nd…