Psychological victims of the genocide

A lot of victims of the genocide are dead... They suffered a horrible death. Madness was ruling in April 1994. Up to one million people lost their lives. April is known here as ‘the month of remembrance’. People mourn their lost loved ones; they vouch that it won’t happen again.

There is a second category of victims of the genocide: the physically injured, of course and also the emotionally injured ones. The vast majority of survivors have moved on with their lives and have shown incredible signs of resilience and forgiveness. The setting of ‘gacaca courts’ (a local, traditional, community-based system of judging people, of solving conflicts) that was eventually introduced to replace the more ‘legalistic’, western penal system, was very much instrumental to reconciliation between the two artificially constructed ethnic groups.

I have come across two of these injured victims of the genocide. They both spent twelve years of their lives in jail, waiting for their judgement to come up, but were eventually handed in to the gacaca court – which found them innocent and completely cleared of any wrong doing.

Both have been seriously emotionally injured. You do not spend twelve years of your life in a African prison, waiting for justice to make its call, knowing deep inside that you are innocent, without developing some emotional scar. Yet one of them has bounced back and is now deeply involved in selfless community work – striving to help children receive the best education possible. There is depth in his eyes, strength and determination in his actions and an overall aura of wisdom about him. I want to get to know him better, to be inspired by him.

The other, in his early forties today has not recovered. A fellow inmate – a well known artist, taught him how to play the guitar. He is at his best when he plays his guitar and sings the songs he wrote in jail. The rest of the time, he seems lost. He was married when he was taken to jail and he had a young son. Twelve years later, when he was set free, he found out that his wife had remarried and he had no home to come back to. He went back to live with his parents. You can read in his eyes that he has not found another purpose in his life. There is a mismatch between what he says he should do to get back on his feet and what he actually does. He talks about going to university and study commerce, about perfecting his English, which is quite good already (all self-taught!) but he ends up going drinking with his mates. He would like to make some money by having a ‘taxi-moto’ business in the area, but is unable to meet the repayment of his loan and has the motorbike taken away from him. Lately he has been talking about buying some bees and producing honey (the honey around these hills is fantastic!). He is talking about getting his own place to live in about three months’ time. ‘That would be wonderful, go for it!”

African lake

Two ‘G.’ words

98% of our genetic code is the same as human beings. Our population has been on the increase, lately

A memorial to the genocide, in Kybuye

A lot has been written about the  ‘F...’ word. How about ‘G...’ words? For many people in the world, Rwanda is about two ‘G...’ words: ‘Gorillas’ and ‘Genocide’, they do not know anything else about the country. The risk of stereotyping is huge and very dangerous: ‘Rwanda people kill their gorillas and then kill each other...’  Nothing could be further from the truth.  One step in the right direction would be to say (i) a few uneducated, desperate, greedy people used to kill gorillas, with the same frame of mind as some executives decide to cut rain forests to clear land  for mining and (ii) under the ‘right’ circumstances, after a ‘well’ orchestrated campaign of building up hatred, any ethnic group can suddenly start slaughtering another ethnic group along a similar scenario: Jews were the victims of such treatment in Nazi Germany, Armenians in Turkey, Ordinary Cambodians were killed by Cambodian Khmer rouges, Serbs were hunting for Kosovars not so long ago.

There are some encouraging signs about the two ‘G...’ words in Rwanda today: (i) the gorilla population is on the increase, gorilla trekking is the number one source of foreign income in Rwanda... so they are preciously protected from poachers, (ii) the dividing line between Tutsis and Hutus is slowly but surely becoming blurry. Soon you won’t know if your neighbour is a Tutsi or a Hutu. It is no longer required to have such a label written in your ID card (the Belgian colonial power introduced this concept of ethnic labelling on ID cards, as it served their colonial purpose well).

So, more gorillas, Tutsis and Hutus merging into one Rwanda, people moving forward!

We know what the ‘f-word’ stands for... What does the ‘h-word’ stand for...? ‘Hope’?

Boats on Lake Kivu

Venise Vs Kivu

Today, Sunday I have decided that it is time so see some water.
I have enjoyed the 3 hours scenic bus drive to Kibuye, a peaceful town on Lake Kivu (about 100 km long), on the border to the Democratic Republic of Congo.
I am sitting on the porch of my room - right on the lake, soaking in the atmosphere, when a man on his boat calls me and asks if I want to have a ride on the lake... OK, how about in one hour? OK. How much? 2000Rwf (4 $). Deal!!!

I meet him as planned, off we are. The balance on the boat is delicate but I trust him... As soon as we start gliding on the water, he breaks into some African chanting (I can tell it is not Kinyrwanda, it is Swahili... Good guess, muzungu!). His very deep and loud voice resonates throughout the lake.
I am really enjoying this! Very romantic and exotic at the same time... Venise, eat your heart out...

Soeur Josephine: 1 - Sudanese war Lords: 0

I recently heard on the radio that, a few years ago, during a very serious famine (partly due to the civil war) in the Sudan, millions of US dollars of relief money intended to feed the starving many, was actually used by rebels to buy arms for their cause. A more immoral story would be hard to come by and yet this is not a one off African scenario.
Diametrically opposite on that spectrum of food access fairness is the attitude and actions of one confident but self-effacing nun: Soeur Josephine.
Today I spend my last day in these magic Southern hills. I have locked the cottage, bid farewell to Papa Jacinthe and his family, said goodbye to Baptiste. I am going to sleep over at the Muganza Health Centre, where Soeur Josephine lives. She is expecting me. Standing next to her is a chubby little girl, Josiane, who must be 3 or 4 years old. Josephine introduces me to her.
‘She was starving to death, her brother died of hunger a little while ago in hospital. They could not save him and he was begging them to stop trying feeding him. I said to myself ‘Non!’ not her. She is not going to die, she won’t die. NO, she won’t!!!’
Josiane is not chubby from eating too many sweets but because of malnutrition... Josephine tells me that the little girl is starting to get better but that it was really ‘touch and go’ for a while.
Little Josiane is sucking on a nutritional pack that the government provides for children like her. She needs to suck on about five of them per day to gradually absorb the nutrients that she has been deprived of all her life. There is something peaceful, un-childlike and intense about little Josiane. I spend some time alone with her, I help her unwrap that life-saving food bar, I speak to her in a language that she does not understand but she lets me come into her world. Loudly and cheerfully, I say to her: ‘Yummy, good girl! yummy!! She is indeed enjoying the act of eating. I enjoy watching her eat! Another voice inside me quietly but resolutely invokes: ‘No, little Josiane, you won’t die! You will live! You will! Simply because you are so beautiful and so innocent!!!
Later on I take Josiane in my arms and we watch Soeur Josephine get stuck into her emails... Josiane is fascinated by the computer... from starvation to computer age within a few days, what a journey! I feel some life force coming back to her...
Josephine tells me, matter-of-factly that Little Josiane comes from a family of 10 or 11 children, that her parents aren’t coping at all.
Thank God Josephine copes... I admire her unassuming strength so much; I despise so much the weakness of the Sudanese war lords!!

More than a school

Today is my second last day at the school. On Friday, I am going to Kigali to do a couple of things in the ‘big city’ before flying off... It is also the day before my birthday, and I am secretly hoping that a special Rugerero event is on its way...

The community work at the school that I had painstakingly planned for last Saturday was cancelled the day before because of the visit to the ‘secteur’ of a member of the Senate. Everyone has been invited to attend... including teachers, parents... ‘Oh well!!! The white washing of classrooms I was hoping to witness before my departure would be a non-event...

-  No!! says Frederic, the assistant to the Headmaster, let’s do it on Wednesday morning. We’ll cancel the classes, we’ll invite the parents and the children to help’. By then, I have adopted a more fatalistic attitude, bordering on the ‘whatever’ mindset... I’ll believe it when I see it.

Wednesday comes. I am about to see it, in its full African splendour. Sometimes, you gotta have faith. The repainting of the Sistine Chapel is about to begin...

The artists

Mostly mothers, grandmothers. They arrive from everywhere in small groups, so serene and gracious in their beautiful, bright dresses. They wait patiently... for a couple of hours before paining starts. 

The magic brew

Gaspard, the President of the Parents Committee, has hired the local ‘lime and white wash expert’ to oversee the operation. Recipe: start the wood fire, mix the lime with salt, hot water in a huge caldrons. This is the first task to do: a boys and men task...

Tool making

As they arrive, women have their brushes made from a stick and some grass. NO! these are NOT brooms, but artist brushes!

It is a long wait before the water starts boiling and the mixture is ready... Good, this gives me a chance to shake lots of hands, to thank the volunteers and take more photos!!!

Action!

Suddenly, the magic potion is ready. What follows is a combination of the storming of the Bastille and the delicate painting of the Sistine Chapel

The splendour of Chaos...

Community Ceremony

Time now for a community ceremony. Laurent, the vice president of the Parents Committee has prepared the programme in details. The school yard is turned into a ceremonial area, under the equatorial midday sun.

          

In Rwanda it has to start with some traditional dancing, singing, drumming... Even the Muzungu is invited to join in. You don’t need to invite him twice to a bit of African boogie-boogie!

Lots of short speeches follow, 

Gaspard, President of Parents Committee

More speeches... including one from the School management to thank the Muzungu and Abana.

(sic) ‘

Mr José, we are very happy of the work that you have done in our school. From your coming here until this time, we have the remarkable change in our school, we have the remarkable change toward our attitude about education.

You have done many activities in order to improve not only our knowledge but also to improve our attitudes according teaching – learning process.

The training received from you every Saturday allows us to improve our skills in English and in pedagogy.

Your activity about finding for us appropriate documents and didactic materials will help us to attempt at good teaching – learning process.

Your advice about education constitutes the guide in our daily life, not only when we are at school but also when we are out of school.

The manner which you want to keep the documents and all things tidy has been for us the model and we will respect what you have begun in continuing the task of progress our school.

Your effort in finding for us the good trainers shows how you think about our performance in our job and the quality of our students.

Your name will not be forgotten in Rugerero Complex School and we beg you to come back one day even if we remain in contact by technology.”

Muzungu Jose is also invited to make a speech and then a present is given to Jose the Anana muzungu on behalf of the school and parents.

J

Jeannette, the headmistress and Frederic, her assistant, surprise me with a present

Some 120 uniforms out of the 500 made for the poorest of the children are given. Children and their parents are VERY happy.

The ceremony is over. I could not have hoped for a better birthday and send-off present. I am so impressed and touched by the feeling of community and celebration among the children and parents present. Light heartedness, simplicity, togetherness, celebration... beautiful!

Please, Rugerero school complex, whatever ‘education’ does to you, don’t EVER lose that!

You might even consider sending a few volunteers to many schools in Australia!