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August 31, 2006

Rwanda: Past and Present

In the spring of 1994 I remember watching the news and seeing horrific footage of events taking place somewhere unfamiliar to me called Rwanda. Video of people being hacked to death in the street by men wielding machetes was aired and images of bodies floating down a river flashed across the television screen. It was tough to watch but when the story ended the channel was changed. I remember thinking how terrible the events were, but my daily life went on as normal and I soon forgot about it. This also seems to be what the international community did to a country that needed it the most.

The events that took place in the early nineties were a long time in the making. In 1932, under colonial rule, the introduction of an identity card made the previous socio-economic Hutu and Tutsi classes of the Rwandan people racial. Those with ten cows were labeled Tutsi and those with less than ten cows as Hutu, which also applied to their descendants. The minority Tutsis were favored by the colonialists who gave them power and privileges over the Hutu people, thus igniting racial tensions between the two groups. When independence came in 1962, power transferred to the Hutu majority, and many Tutsis unwilling to accept their loss in privilege, formed guerrilla groups and mounted raids on Hutu communities. In 1972 the slaughter of tens of thousands of Hutus in neighboring Burundi increased racial tensions, and then in 1990 Rwanda was invaded by the RPF, a 5000 strong Tutsi rebel group prompting the Rwandan army to go on an all out offensive against the Tutsi people, killing thousands. Fighting raged for the next three years, with the RPF gaining ground over northern Rwanda until a ceasefire was drawn up with the warring parties brought together in Arusha, Tanzania for discussions. Returning from one of these conferences, the plane carrying both the leader of Rwanda and the president of Burundi were shot down by a surface to air missile, killing both.

Garden at the Kigali Genocide Memorial

Within hours, roadblocks were set up throughout the country by Hutu extremists determined to carry out a final solution to the Tutsi “problem”. To ensure that their plans went unimpeded, ten Belgian UN peacekeepers were murdered, prompting Belgium to withdraw all of its remaining troops. Tutsis and Hutus suspected of sympathizing with Tutsis were mercilessly slaughtered. Endless propaganda spewed out from Radio Television Libre de Milles Collines urging Hutus to eliminate the Tutsi cockroaches and men, women and children, caught up in the blind hatred, joined in on the carnage. It was often a case of kill or be killed. Friends turned on friends, family members on family members. Nobody was spared. Women were raped and then killed in front of their families, while children were hacked to death and discarded by the roadside. Those that tried to take refuge in the church were often turned over to the extremists by the people that were supposed to protect them. Foreign nationals were airlifted out of the country, but no soldiers were sent to help. Pleas from UN commander Dallaire, one of the few remaining in the country, went unanswered as the international community turned its back when it had the power to stop the bloodshed. By the time the RPF was able to mobilize and push the Rwandan army and extremists out of the country, up to one million people had been massacred.

This terrible chapter of Rwandans history is presented in the Genocide Memorial in Kigali. Set amidst a leafy garden on one of the mass grave sites, a modern building houses an extensive exhibit dedicated to preserving the memory of those that lost their lives, and making sure that these terrible events do not get forgotten. It was difficult to choke back the tears as the genocide was recounted in both text and video. How anything like this can happen was the most difficult to come to terms with. How do ordinary people turn into bloodthirsty killers? Why did international intervention not happen when so many innocent people’s lives were just wasted? Photos of love ones lost to the genocide fill a wall putting faces to the atrocities described. While it may be easy to associate these events with a faraway country, it would be wrong to assume that everything is so different from our own. The memorial serves as a reminder of the darkest part of humanity, an evil that may exist in all of us.

Rwanda has made remarkable progress in overcoming what took place in the nineties. The capital, Kigali, retains few scars and is very much a city moving forward. It appears to be developing quite rapidly, playing host to Expo during our visit. Perched on a hilltop, views of the valley below can be had from throughout the city. Like most big cities, people are busily going about their daily life. Also like most African cities, there are a disproportionate number of men that hang around doing nothing. When I first saw signs in restaurants stating “Idlers not welcome here”, I wasn’t sure what was meant, but it is easy to see now. In Africa, the women seem to do all the work, while many men are content to sit on the corner staring off into the distance. One of the best examples we saw of this was on a road construction crew in Kigali. Two men lazily leaned on their shovels chatting with each other while the third member of the crew, a woman, was bent over, sweat pouring off her brow, shoveling all the dirt out of the hole that they were working on.

Our favorite barber shop

Our arrival in Kigali corresponded with local elections. As we got out of the matatu, the city was buzzing with people all moving about. What we failed to realize was that practically the entire population was all walking in the same direction – away from the city. We joined in and after an hour of frustrated searching, we managed to locate a hotel, much further out of the city center than ideal. The hotel was grungy with a slight mosquito infestation in the bathrooms, but adequate enough. The garbage can in the bathroom labeled Condoms made us slightly unsure of what kind of hotel it was, but I suppose in a region where Aids is rampant, it’s good to see that precautions may be taking place. Heading back into the centre in search of food, we discovered a city transformed from the one we had witnessed just hours before. Because of the election, everything was closed and the city was deserted. Small groups of idlers sat on the corners staring at us as we walked the empty streets searching for food. I fully expected tumbleweed to blow past as we made our way through the eerily deserted streets. Finally, a woman carrying a basket of bananas on her head came to our rescue supplying us with enough food to tide us over until things opened up again for the evening.

Rwanda’s major tourist draw card is the chance to track the mountain gorillas. With stability returned to the region, tourists are returning with confidence and bringing much needed tourist dollars to the country. At $375 per person, it isn’t cheap, but the experience is one not to be missed. Only around 700 of the mountain gorillas remain in the world, confined to small area straddling Uganda, Rwanda, and Congo (Zaire). It was here that Dian Fossey spent thirteen years researching the gorillas before being murdered by poachers in 1985. Both poaching and political instability of the regions continue to threaten the gorilla population, although security in the park seems to be fairly tight. In addition to our two guides, we were accompanied by three armed soldiers on our trek, partly to protect us from animals, and partly from poachers. In 1999 eight tourists were murdered while tracking gorillas in Uganda, so the army maintains tight security these days. Only thirty gorilla permits are available each day, with most people booking months in advance, so when we showed up at the tourist office in Kigali on August 23 and asked for the first available day, we were disappointed to hear September 26. “How about August 26?” “Let me check…yes that date is available”. I’m not sure what sort of psychological game they were playing with us as another couple in our group was told only January was available before being given a permit for the same date. Perhaps they try and keep tourists in Rwanda as long as they can. With our permit in hand, we headed off to the jungles of Parc National des Volcans for what many have called the experience of a lifetime.

The impressive Mr Silverback

For an hour we trekked amid tangles of bamboo and dense snake-like vines with the sun piercing through the narrow gaps throwing a mosaic of sunlight on the jungle floor. When our path became too thick the machete came out and opened up the way. At times the jungle would open up to reveal spectacular views of the misty peak of Sabinyo Volcano before we were sucked back into the density of the jungle. Before long Olivier’s radio crackled with good news, the gorillas were nearby. In order to ensure sightings and to minimize the time spent looking for the gorillas, a team of trackers heads out early in the morning to locate the group. Once the location is established, the coordinates are relayed back to our guide. After scrambling up one last slope, trying our best to avoid grabbing the stinging nettles, a dark figure leapt in the canopy above us and we were upon the gorillas.

Forgetting our gorilla tracking etiquette, our entire group pointed excitedly at the gorilla until Olivier reminded us to lower our hands. Along with flash photography, spitting, eating, and (this one seems rather obvious) going to the bathroom in front of the gorillas, pointing is a big no-no. I had no idea how hard it was to control the urge to point whenever we saw a new gorilla. We followed Olivier single file into a clearing and came practically face to face with a massive male silverback. To ensure our arrival was seen as peaceful, one of our guides began making low grumbling noises. The male silverback responded with similar grunts, which according to our guide, translated loosely to “Hakuna Matata.” From a distance of no more than five metres we crouched trying to contain outbursts of excitement while the silverback went about his routine of chowing down on bamboo, completely unperturbed by our presence. Every now and then he would look over at us and then go back to his bamboo, obviously not as interested in us as we were in him. A few feet away from him one of the females laid on her back, a hand draped lazily over her forehead in a pose not unlike Homer Simpson splayed out on a couch while a four month old baby crawled around her. One of the most amazing things about the gorillas was their humanlike characteristics. Their eyes, fingers, faces, the way they moved, the way they ate, and even the way the male silverback picked his nose seemed identical to humans. Not surprising since they share ninety seven percent of our biology.

Just chillin

Bored with the daily annoyance of slack jawed gawkers, the group got up and began to move through the jungle. One of the females tried to take the lead, but the silverback, dominant male that he is, jumped off the ground, fist raised, and sent a punch to her back, sending her with a whimper to the back of the line. The dominant male has multiple mating partners and calls all the shots in the group while the other males either have to obey and remain celibate, or take off and try to start their own group. Not all is lost for them, as behind the back of the dominant male, there is some cheating that goes on between the lesser males and the females. It all sounds somewhat like a primate soap opera, but our guide assured us that it was true. As we followed the gorillas to their new location, I heard the guide in the rear whisper to me “Do not be alarmed”. Not sure what he meant by it, I looked down as one of the females shoved past to get ahead of our line. We followed our new leader into another clearing for one last glimpse of the group before our time was up and it was time to head back to the park.

From the gorillas we were set to head east to Lake Kivu for some relaxation, but at the last minute hopped on a matatu headed for the Rwandan-Uganadan border. Eager for more wildlife, we needed to get to Kenya where safaris are cheap and the animals are plentiful. The easiest way to make the long journey to Nairobi was via Uganda and it would prove to be our scariest bus ride yet.

Click Here to see the photos

Posted by brett at August 31, 2006 05:21 AM

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Posted by: grig at September 1, 2006 07:59 AM

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