This week has been a bit hectic. One of Brian’s aunts passed away last week, and Nana spent most of last week looking for a place for her children to stay during the deuil (mourning period). Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to find anywhere, so the only solution was for Brian and Nana to move into Brian’s parents’ house, and me to stay elsewhere – luckily Morgan was able to find me some sofa space, so I’ve moved to Mutanga North, in North-West Bujumbura, and should soon be moving in with Pierre Claver (no idea where) for the remainder of the time here. The whole process has been pretty complicated and I’ll be glad to be settled for the last few days. What makes it harder is that the guy who washes Brian and Nana’s laundry for them has lost half my clothes – 3 out of 6 T-shirts, 1 out of 3 shirts, my boardies, and my sarong. Needless to say I am unimpressed, particularly about the shirt and the boardies, which I actually do need to go rafting in. As a result have been alternating between daily laundry and smelling.

Rant over, I feel pretty awful for the family – they all live in Canada and it’s a pretty miserable way to come back to your homeland after absences of ten years. On top of that, they’ve had to organise last-minute leave and pay for plane tickets, which can’t be cheap, and Brian and Nana have been really good to me this summer, so I’m glad to help where I can. I’ve also found it interesting to learn about Burundian funeral preparations – African funerals generally pull out all the stops, to the extent that funeral costs have been one of the major causes of the impoverishment that has followed the HIV/AIDS epidemic. The Burundian deuil is also interesting; every night, the family and friends of the deceased person gather to support the family – an illustration of the communality of Burundian living. To be honest, that sounds like my worst nightmare; like most Westerners, I like my personal space, particularly when bad stuff happens, and being constantly surrounded by dozens of people sounds highly stressful and like it would make things worse.

I think this difference is perhaps the most important one between (many) African and (many) (Northern) Western cultures – the insistence on or lack of understanding of personal space. It has physical elements – one of the things Westerners here complain about is that Burundians are very tactile – but also social elements – Burundian friends have tended to express a total lack of comprehension when I’ve said that I like to sit at home and read sometimes. I also wonder if it feeds into things like semi-obsessive church attendance – several Burundians have flat-out refused to believe me when I claim that it’s possible to pray in private!

In case it’s unclear, I’m not criticising this communality – it brings enormous benefits in terms of mutual support, though I think that privacy also has a place – just commenting that despite years and years in Africa, this still gives me a culture shock. And I’m looking forward to getting back somewhere where people don’t feel the need to touch me all the time during conversation!

Lisa has already posted about Bujumbura’s Musee Vivante, which we visited while she and Bryan were in Bujumbura. While we were there, the crocodiles had just been fed, so we missed out on the joy of feeding them live guinea pigs. However, when my friend Morgan visited with a couple of the marines, they had better luck. Since she is herself a renowned blogger, I’ll let you read it in her own words, but give you a taste by telling you know that one baby guinea pig, which we’ve now named Harry Potter*, emerged victorious from his encounter with the crocodile and being adopted by the marines… but it’s worth reading the whole story! Very cute photos and further updates on Harry’s wellbeing to follow!

*Further investigation has led to Harry being renamed Harriet

UPDATE: You can now see two videos of the ceremony here.

Last week I was fortunate enough to be able to attend a disarmament ceremony in Muramvya Commune, Rutegama Province, in the middle of the country. Getting there was pretty stressful – found out I needed to be at the Gare du Nord while still in bed and about half an hour before I had to be there, so got a taxi there, and found Amable, CEDAC’s youth coordinator, waiting for me. We got a share-taxi up to Muramvya, where we arrived half an hour before the ceremony was due to start, and an hour before it actually started; Burundian time. Amable was very apologetic but I didn’t mind at all – it gave me time to take pictures of the weapons being handed in, watch the performance of traditional dancers (as well as the ubiquitous drumming group, they also had a women’s dance group, who were very good, even if the dance did involve a slightly-incongruous blowing of whistles).

Dance Group

Women's Dance Group

Drumming Celebrations

I was impressed by the number of people at the ceremony – the whole town had turned out, dressed in Sunday best and patiently waiting for the ceremony to begin. When it finally began, we had speeches from Amable, a local dignatory, and a man from the Disarmament Commission. All the speeches talked of peace – I could pick out the word amahoro – and were greeted with cheers and dancing by the drummers at dramatic moments in the speeches. The speech by the representative of the Disarmament Commission went on for some time – he name-checked the President a few times and, although the crowd started enthusiastic (the CNDD-FDD are strong in this area), they were waning a bit by the end. But on the whole it was an occasion filled with celebration and hope.

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The weapons being handed in

After the ceremony, I had the opportunity to talk to the representative from the Disarmament Commission. Speaking in excellent English, he told me that they had up to 4 of these ceremonies a week, but that they are concentrated at the end of the month, so that there are 6 or 7 a month. He also told me that this will be one of the last ceremonies, as at the end of next month a new law will come into force making possession of a firearm illegal, meaning that the country will effectively move to a system of forcible disarmament.

This is something that in many ways makes sense – there has been a transition period, and it seems like a good idea to minimise the number and legitimacy of weapons before the election – but I also have serious misgivings. If people are holding on to their guns, they often do so for a reason; this is particularly the case in Burundi, where the army has often been a participant in intercommunal violence and, despite the peace agreement and integration of the army, many people still feel that they’d be wise to be cautious. Even more worryingly, there are risks of selective disarmament; the government can only check up on areas that politically oppose them, thus giving their supporters a monopoly of violence by the election. Finally, and less concretely, I have a knee-jerk reaction against anything that seems authoritarian; what I like about this country is precisely that it has not gone down the authoritarian route in the way that some of its neighbours have, and it would worry me if this changed. I have yet to discuss this with any Burundians (I know that Adrien and Claver are reading, so I’d be interested to know what you think!) but hope to do so later in the week, and will update with any insights they are able to give me.

Nope, not the kind that blow up kids and tanks, the kind that extract nickel. This weekend I was at Bora Bora, and met a South African man sitting alone. It was a slightly awkward conversation – he was very much a member of the distressingly-large number of white people who’ve spent their lives in Africa who always seems to be on the point of saying something racist, but never quite crosses the line, so you spend the whole conversation talking about how great your Burundian friends are so as to make the point that you’d rather they didn’t say anything racist. If you’ve spent enough time in expat bars in Africa you’ll know what I mean. But the conversation was interesting, so I stuck with it.

He had been in Burundi for about six months, and initially to investigate the possibility of a nickel mine and now in the process of starting it up; he expected this to take another 18 months. He worked for a South African company (he did tell me which but I was a couple of Primuses in by this stage and I honestly can’t remember!), and we talked a little about how important South African finance is for African development; my personal feeling is that South African companies are better at taking individual African countries on their own merits, rather than having a knee-jerk country-emerging-from-conflict reaction of “No Way!”. Added to this the fact that they’re prepared to absorb more risk in Africa, and you can see why they can be crucial to the development of countries like Burundi; there’s no way that a Western company would be starting a mine here until after next year’s election.

Now obviously, there are questions about whether finding natural resources is a good thing – the natural resource curse is well known – but my feeling is that Burundi has done a pretty good job of beating itself up without natural resources, so having them can’t be a whole lot worse. Plus there’s the fact that it’s one of the poorest countries in the world, so any investment and any jobs created are a Good Thing. It’s also optimistic that an Anglophone company, led by staff who don’t speak French, is managing to operate in Burundi – Rwanda is already progressing well in its shift towards English, and now that both countries are members of the East African Community, English will be crucial to their development. This is something Burundians recognise – Everyone seems to want to learn English, and I’ve been surprised by the number of people who at least understand it* – but which it is pretty hard to actually do. One of the things I spent the whole of my first month trying to find out was what Burundi actually exports, eventually working out that the answer was coffee, tea and flowers. Those aren’t a great basis for an entire economy, so I hope that diversifying into raw materials as well will help the country.

One last thing; he told me that they will be exporting via Tanzania, because they are in the South of the country. This pleased me greatly; I find it very hard to understand why, when Mombasa is further than Dar and involves three border crossings instead of one, and the main roads in Tanzania are generally better, all of Burundi’s produce seems to go out through Rwanda – incidentally also making Burundi vulnerable to disturbance in three countries instead of just one. I keep asking my Burundian friends why this is, and apart from vague aspersions about Rwandan hegemony, they don’t generally have a clear answer. I’m glad to see that I’m not the only one that sees the other way as making more sense!

*I’ve got a theory that DSTV showings of premiership matches help by exposing people to English, but this might be just one of my theories!

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.

Lake Kivu

Acrobatic group in Gisenyi

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!

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Cadette Nshimirimana is shy and softly-spoken, but speaks passionately about her work with CEDAC and Burundi’s future. She is a student who has just finished studying humanities, and is now training as a car mechanic. Unlike many of the other people I have spoken to, who, once asked a question, lingered over their experiences, she talks only briefly about the war. She tells me that members of her family were killed, which shocked her, and she thought about participating – but felt she had nothing to contribute. She still feels terrible grief for her family, and even now if she sees a person with a gun her immediate reaction is to think of them as a killer. But there are millions of killers, and the problems touch everyone.

CEDAC has been vital in helping her adjust to this reaction, and she is now determined to spread their message to everyone in her community. She tells me about how she goes to talk to others in the area, giving them information and training – on AIDS, conflict resolution, human rights, their own legal rights, the election, and everything. The information is generally well received – it is relevant and useful, and she sees CEDAC as a huge influence in promoting the rule of law and working against violence against women in the quartiers. She sees CEDAC’s work as vital to bring young people together, helping them get over the terrible things they have experienced and avoid violence in future.

Talking about the future, she admits that there are dangers; she is worried that the elections will bring problems. But, she says, that shouldn’t prevent CEDAC’s work – they can work to solve these problems, and she believes that, in the end, the elections will go well. She tells me that her ambition is to work with others, explaining CEDAC’s vision and promoting development in the country – something that she is already doing, but hopes to build on.

Cadette est timide et parle doucement, mais elle parle passionnément sur son travail avec CEDAC, et l’avenir du Burundi. Elle est étudiante qui vient de finir ses études des humanités, et qui s’entrainent maintenant comme mécanique. En comparaison avec la plupart des gens avec qui j’ai parlé, qui ont décrit, parfois en détail, leurs expériences, elle parle peu de la guerre. Elle me dit que les membres de sa famille ont été tués, qui l’a choqué, et qu’elle a considéré de participer – mais elle s’est sentie qu’elle n’avait rien à contribuer. Elle se sent encore un deuil terrible, et si elle voit quelqu’un avec un fusil sa réaction est d’en considérer comme tueur. Mais il y a des millions des tueurs, et les problèmes touchent tout le monde.

CEDAC a été important en l’aider d’adapter a ce réaction, et elle est maintenant déterminée de disséminer sa message a tout le monde dans son commune. Elle me dit qu’elle va parler avec les autres dans le quartier pour les donner les informations et les entrainements – sur le SIDA, la résolution des conflits, les droits humaines, leurs droits légales, l’élection, et tous. L’information est normalement bienvenue ; elle est relèvent et utile, et elle croit que CEDAC a un grand influence en consolider le règle du droit et en opposant la violence contre les femmes dans les quartiers. Elle le trouve aussi vitale pour faciliter les contacts entre les jeunes, les aident de récupérer de leurs expériences terribles et éviter la violence dans l’avenir.

Quand nous parlons de l’avenir, elle avoue qu’il y a les dangers ; elle s’inquiète que l’élection peut créer les problèmes. Mais elle dit que ça ne peut pas empêcher le travail du CEDAC  – ils peuvent travailler pour surmonter ces problèmes, et elle croit que, quand tout est fini, les élections vont aller bien. Elle me dit que sa ambition est de travailler avec les autres, pour expliquer la vision de CEDAC et aider le développement dans le pays – quelque chose qu’elle fait déjà, mais qu’elle espère de le continuer, et connecter avec plus de gens.

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Willy is reticent about his time associated with the rebel Frolina movement. He tells me that his decision to join them came from the loss of many members of his family in the early years of the crisis, who he determined to avenge. In 1994 he approached Frolina; although the rebels told him he was too young, like many traumatised young people, he continued to live a ‘crazy life’. Eventually they allowed him to act as a ‘traitor’ feeding them information wherever possible, a role that he continued for two years before being sent home, despite his wish to continue in the movement.  He wanted to continue with the rebels, but was sent home. Here, his life continued to be ‘crazy’; he longed for revenge, and continued to hate.

Finding CEDAC made the difference; he found a reason to life, and started to reconstruct his life, going back to school – he is now finishing his secondary school. Through CEDAC group meetings, he met others of similar ages who had had similar experiences, and was able to share what had happened to him. Through their support, he was able to pardon those who had killed his mother and brother. Although he still sees them every day, he says he has forgiven them.

Although Willy still has flashbacks of the war, he is glad to be alive and says that his old enemies are now his friends. Rather than hating and plotting revenge, he now sees his role as helping others to find the same forgiveness and peace that he has found – again, working through CEDAC, he promotes CEDAC’s work to others and participates in groups meetings to help those – such as Hassam – who are still struggling to deal with what has happened to them. As we talk about the future, he hopes that others will be able to forgive, as he has. Describing Burundi as a land of milk and honey (this is a bit out of the blue so he has to repeat it a few times before I’m sure it’s really what he’s saying!), where anything can grow and anything is possible, he hopes for economic growth to lift his generation out of poverty, and hopes to be a part of providing that growth.

Willy ne me dit pas trop du temps qu’il a passé avec le mouvement rebelle Frolina. Il me dit qu’il a pris la décision de les joindre parce que plusieurs membres de sa famille ont étés tués dans les premières années de la crise. Il a déterminé de les venger, et en 1994 il a approché Frolina. Les rebelles lui ont dit qu’il était trop jeune mais, comme beaucoup des jeunes traumatisés, il a continué de vivre « un vie fou ». Finalement ils l’ont demandé d’être « traitre » pour les donner de l’information quand c’était possible, un rôle qui a continué pour deux ans. Après ce période il a rentré à la maison, mais sa vie a continué d’être « fou » ; il avait envie de se venger, et il était plein de la haine.

Trouver CEDAC a fait une grande différence; il a trouvé une raison de vivre, et il a commencé de reconstruire sa vie. Il a retourné a l’école – il est maintenant en train de finir son école secondaire. Avec les réunions de sa groupe CEDAC, il est rencontré les autres des âges similaires qui ont eu les expériences similaires, et il a pu partager ce qui l’en a passé. Avec le soutien de sa groupe, il a pu pardonner ceux qui ont tué sa mère et son frère. Il me dit qu’il les voit tous les jours, mais il les a pardonnés.

Willy a encore les images et les rêves de la guerre, mais il est heureux d’être vivant et il dit que ses anciens ennemis sont maintenant ses amis. En place de la haine et les pensées de la vengeance, il croit maintenant que son devoir est de trouver la même capacité de pardonner et la même paix qu’il a trouvé. Il travail avec CEDAC en parlant aux autres du travail de CEDAC et il participe dans les réunions du soutien pour aider ceux – comme Hassam – qui lutte encore d’accepter leurs expériences. Quand nous parlons de l’avenir, il dit qu’il espère que les autres peuvent pardonner, comme il a fait. It décrit Burundi comme « une terre de lait et miel », où tout peut pousser et tout est possible ; il espère pour la croissance économique pour aider sa génération à échapper la pauvreté, et il veut être partie de cette croissance.

Hassam Ciza

Hassam Ciza, one of Burundi’s small Muslim community, did not join the rebels voluntarily. In 2006 the FNL came to his house, started beating people, and gave them a choice between joining and being killed; he accepted. He was with the rebels for several months, where he says he was treated “like an animal”. He and the other abductees were used like slaves, acting as porters and carrying out heavy work in the camp, and they were regularly beaten. Finally, after being asked to go and get charcoal, he ran away. He had a gun, which he gave to a friend, then ran and gradually made his way home.

Like many people, however, Hassam did not find an easy homecoming. His mother had been killed, and his family now consisted of him and his elder brother. He felt guilt for what he had done, even though, he says, he did nothing that he was not forced to do. He felt that he had ‘the spirit of a soldier’ and could not relate to others; he even considered returning to the bush, but in the end did not. Now twenty, he is clearly still traumatised by his experience, refusing to meet my eye and shifting uncomfortably as he talks. He is also struggling to support himself; although he received training as a mechanic he has not been able to find work. He is, however, adamant about one thing: he does not want to be a soldier. Even talking about CEDAC, a subject on which most members will talk enthusiastically, he limits his words. But he says he likes being with people, and that it has helped him adapt to life. And, after a year with CEDAC, he is optimistic about the future.

Although it would be stretching a point to see Hassam as a survivor able to help others, his story illustrates the importance of the peer support model in other ways; he struggled to relate to those who had not shared his experiences, but through CEDAC support groups he is beginning to address his trauma. Talking to the other young people in the group, most of whose ordeals took place before Hassam’s did, I believe they have the strength to help him develop through this and find his own path to his future.

Hassam Ciza, un membre du petit communité musulman du Burundi, n’a pas choisi d’être rebelle. En 2006 les rebelles du FNL sont venus à son quartier, ont commencé de battre les gens, et les ont donnés un choix : nous joins, ou on te tue. Il a accepté de joindre, et a resté avec les rebelles pour plusieurs mois, ou il dit qu’il était traité « comme les animaux » Lui et lest autres qui ont été enlevés étaient utilisés comme les esclaves ; ils ont travaillé comme les porteurs et fait tout le travail manuel dans le camp. De plus, ils étaient régulièrement battus. Finalement, il a décidé de s’en fuir. Un jour, quand ils lui ont demandé de chercher le charbon, il a donné son fusil à un ami, et il a couru, avant de, graduellement, faire le voyage pour retourner chez lui.

Pourtant, comme beaucoup des gens, Hassam ne l’a pas trouvé facile de retourner chez lui. Sa mère a été tué, et sa famille maintenant consiste seulement de lui et son frère ainé. Il s’est senti coupable pour ce qu’il a fait, même comme, il dit, il n’a fait rien sans être forcé. Il s’est senti qu’il avait « l’esprit du soldat » et il a pensé de retourner à la forêt. Il a maintenant vingt ans, et c’est clair qu’il est encore traumatisé par son expérience ; il refuse de me regarder dans les yeux et il s’agite dans la chaise pendent la conversation. Il a aussi les problèmes pratique ; parce qu’il n’était pas avec les rebelles à la fin de la guerre, il n’a pas été démobilisé, donc il n’a rien reçu du gouvernement. Il a reçu les entrainements de mécanique avec CEDAC, mais il n’a pas pu trouver la travaille. Néanmoins, il est certain d’une chose ; il ne veut jamais être soldat. Même quand nous parlons du CEDAC, un sujet sur que la majorité des membres parlent avec enthousiasme, il est taciturne. Mais il dit qu’il aime bien être avec les autres jeunes, et que pouvoir parler avec eux lui a aidé d’adapter. Après un an d’être membre de CEDAC, il commence d’être plus optimiste.

Il serait un peu optimiste de décrire Hassam comme survivant qui peut aider les autres, mais son histoire montre quand même l’importance du “peer support”. Il a lutté de trouver un rapport avec ceux qui n’ont pas eu ses expériences, mas, avec son groupe de soutien avec CEDAC, il commence d’adresser son traumatisme. Quand je parle avec les autres jeunes dans la groupe, qui ont en général fini leurs épreuves plus tôt que Hassam, je crois qu’ils ont la force et le confiance de l’aider de dépasser ce période et trouver son propre chemin à l’avenir.

Over the weekend I had two experiences that got me down a bit about this country. The first was pretty standard – some guy trying to pickpocket me, ineptly as it turned out. But it was a bit scary just because the distraction attempt consisted of another guy grabbing both my arms and shaking me.

The second made me think more. I was waiting for someone in a Bujumbura hotel, and the receptionist was asking what I was doing, so I explained about Survivor Corps and the work I’ve been doing with CEDAC. His reaction was so violent that had it not been 9am in a Protestant hostel I would have assumed that he was drunk. Grabbing me by the arm and spitting as he spoke, he shouted that CEDAC only helped the rebels, and that all the rebels were criminals who should be thrown out of Burundi and tried by the ICC, and that he was angered that people like me came to the country to help criminals rather than helping ordinary Burundians (presumably meaning him). Trying to strike a reasonable note, I pointed out that I am working with a number of people who were children when they committed these crimes, and that under Burundian law they therefore couldn’t be held liable. Even angrier, he reiterated that the country would never be peaceful until it had been cleansed of these rebel criminals. Given the way he referred repeatedly to ‘rebel crimes’ and not crimes committed by the army, I suspect that there was an ethnic element, and that he was really talking about Hutu criminals.

This incident really shocked me; it was the first time that any Burundian had said anything other than we need to reconcile, we need peace, and let’s have peaceful elections. They are often critical of the government and express concern about the elections – especially as there are fears that the government will attempt to rig it. But so far no-one has expressed ethnic hate in the present tense, or a desire for violence. At some level he may have a point – it does seem unfair to focus on helping former soldiers rather than the civilians who suffered so much – but through my work with CEDAC I have come into contact with several people who would probably meet this man’s definition of ‘victims’ who have benefitted from their programmes and, in any case, the narratives of people like Arcade show that dividing people into ‘victims’ and ‘evil perpetrators who should be tried in the Hague’ just doesn’t work. Plus, in my opinion, the best way to help the population of Burundi as a whole is to prevent the conflict from restarting – which means preventing the rebels going back to war, which means giving them options – however much it may stick in the throat I hope that this man is an exception – but I can’t help wondering if, under the surface, many other people feel the same way. I think of the young people in Kinaba, who turned away from hate to help rebuild their country, and I realise that what this incident shows more than anything else is the need to continue working for reconciliation.

Pendent le weekend, j’ai eu deux expériences qui m’ont déprimé un peu. Le premier était normale – quelqu’un a essayé de me voler à la tire – mais il a besoin de plus pratiquer, parce qu’il l’a fait très mal ! Mais il m’a fait un peu peur juste parce que la stratégie de distraction était de me prendre par les bras et me toper.

Le deuxième m’a fait penser. J’étais en train d’attendre quelqu’un à un hôtel à Bujumbura, et le réceptionniste m’a demandé qu’est-ce que je fais en Burundi. Je l’ai expliqué le travail de Survivor Corps et le travail que j’ai fait avec CEDAC – et sa réaction était si violent que, sans le fait que nous étions dans une auberge Protestante à 9h du matin, je l’aurais pris pour être sou. Il m’a pris par le bras, et crié que CEDAC aide seulement les rebelles, et tous les rebelles sont les criminelles qui doivent être jetés du Burundi et jugé au CPI – et qu’il était fâché que les gens comme moi viennent au Burundi pour aider les criminelles, en place d’aider les Burundais ordinaires (traduction : comme lui !). J’essayais d’être calme et raisonnable, donc j’ai noté que je travaille avec beaucoup des gens qui ont joint les rebelles comme enfants et, selon la loi Burundais, ils ne sont pas passible. Pas de chance ; encore plus fâché, il a répété que le pays ne saurait jamais la paix avant d’être nettoyé de ces criminelles. Comme il a parlé du ‘crimes rebelles’ – et pas les crimes des forces armées Burundais – je suspecte qu’il y a un message ethnique – pas les criminelles rebelles, mais les criminelles Hutus.

Cet incident m’a beaucoup surpris ; c’était la première fois qu’un Burundais a divergé du narrative nationale de « nous devons nous réconcilier, avoir la paix, et avoir les élections paisibles » Ils critiquent souvent le gouvernement, et sont inquiétés des élections – surtout parce qu’ils ont peur que le gouvernement va essayer de tricher. Mais cet homme est le premier d’exprimer la haine ethnique dans le présent, ou de dire que le pays a besoin de plus de violence. A un niveau il a peut-être raison – ce n’est pas juste de concentrer sur les anciens combattants en place des civiles qui ont souffert dans la guerre. Mais mon travaille avec CEDAC et les autres partenaires du Survivor Corps en Burundi j’ai eu contacte avec plusieurs gens qui peut être considéré comme les ‘victimes’, qui participent dans leurs programmes – et, de plus, les histoires des survivants comme Arcade montre qu’il n’existe pas une vrai distinction entre les ‘victimes’ et les ‘criminelles malignes qui doivent être comparu devant le CPI’. Et, de plus, je crois que le meilleur moyen d’aider tous les Burundais est d’empêcher un retour au conflit – et si on veut faire ça, on doit donner les options aux anciens combattants. J’espère que cet homme est une exception – mais je dois me demander si, sous le surface, il y a plusieurs gens qui pensent dans la même manière. Je pense des jeunes avec qui j’ai parlé a Kinaba – qui ont rejeté la haine pour reconstruire leur pays, et je réalise l’importance de continuer de travailler pour le réconciliation.

Everyone says it: Burundians love to party. On the plane out here I met a number of Rwandans who went all misty-eyed when I said I was going to Burundi, and told me about the amazing time they’d had on stag nights down in Bujumbura, giving the impression that it was the Ibiza of the Great Lakes region! I admit I was somewhat sceptical, but very soon after arriving it became clear that they knew what they were talking about; everyone wants to go for beer and brochette, all the time. But this weekend, while dancing with Eddie (of drummers fame) and his housemates in the newly renovated Havana Club (complete with 7 disco balls of varying sizes), I realised that it went further than I could ever have imagined. Quite simply: you know a nation loves to party, when everyone going to a club prepares by taking a small white serviette with them to wipe their foreheads as they dance the night away.

Tout le monde le dit; les Burundais aiment bien de fêter. Sur le vol à ici, j’ai rencontré plusieurs Rwandais qui ont exprimé une grande nostalgie quand j’ai dit qui irait à Bujumbura, et m’ont dit qu’ils ont passé les fêtes incroyables là bas – ils ont donné l’impression que Bujumbura est l’Ibiza de la région ! Je dois dire que j’étais un peu sceptique, mais immédiatement après avoir arrivée, j’ai réalisé qu’ils avaient raison ; tout le monde veut aller pour les bières et les brochettes, tout le temps. Mais ce weekend, quand j’étais à Havana Club avec Eddie (le tambourinaire), j’ai réalisé que les Burundais ont pris leur amour de la fête à un tout nouveau niveau. Tout simplement – on sait qu’un pays aime bien de fêter quand tout le monde qui va au club prend une petite serviette pour essuyer leurs fronts quand ils dansent pendent toute la nuit !