In the two months I have been in Burundi, I’ve got to know Eric pretty well. Perhaps the most important point to make, is that speaking to Eric, you wouldn’t ever guess that he had ever been a former combatant. Well dressed, eloquent in French and able to communicate effectively in English, he is conspicuously intelligent. You don’t need to know him well, to see that he is highly motivated, having put himself through university at the same time as founding and running an organisation that represents 25,000 former combatants (and counting).

Survivor Corps put me under significant pressure to profile Eric as the first thing I did. But I’m glad I didn’t, because at the time I hadn’t had the opportunity to get to know him, and there are questions -- about the war, his motivations for joining -- that I can’t ask a friend. But through watching and listening, I’ve started to see the other side to Eric. When we went to the interior and he pointed out the hills in which he fought as a rebel; when we meet General Joseph Nkrunziza, the head of the Army’s former combatants unit, he refers to him as ‘my general’; when we look at a box of grenades and magazines ready to be handed in and he picks one up and criticises the rust before replacing it. These throwaway lines and gestures give a window into Eric’s past, and a key to understanding who he is.

Eric was only with the rebels for a short time but, he says, he saw a lot. He left early and voluntarily, returned to school and then university. The idea to found CEDAC came to him gradually, as he watched the first steps towards peace; talking with former combatants, he had a vision of harnessing the energy used to destroy the country to rebuild it. Since then, the organisation has grown to become the largest former combatants’ umbrella organisation in the country, organising peer support groups for former combatants and victims of war, micro-projects (some funded by donors, some funded as mutual support and self-help projects). They support training for their members, including supporting a training centre for young people in Bujumbura -- Eric is considering starting similar centres elsewhere in the country, if funding can be found. And they have started a programme to use their members to sensitise their communities about the importance of peaceful elections.

Eric is working very closely with Pierre Claver in setting up Survivor Corps’ programme in the country. Here is a clip of him talking about what is has meant for him and for CEDAC:

If you want to read more about CEDAC, you can visit my description of their work here, their website here, and Eric’s blog here -- he’s promised to post news and updates at least once a week, so check back to see what he has to say!

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).

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Conseil: ce poste n’a pas

Jeanvierre Nibafasha certainly doesn’t fit the stereotype of a former rebel. She is highly educated, a middle-aged lawyer working in Bujumbura. But she is able to offer me a different perspective on the war; rather than fighting in the bush, between 1994 and 2004 she helped the rebels by passing them information that she was able to acquire through her privileged position as a student and then lawyer in Bujumbura. She is reticent on how she acquired this information, attributing it to ’smart conversation’ – but tells me that the work was dangerous; had she been caught she would have been treated as a member of the rebels and liable to imprisonment, torture or execution. But she did it because she saw justice in the campaign.

Since the war, reactions to what she did have been mixed; some people called her a killer, while others congratulated her. But she has not faced significant problems, especially as she protected people – she is insistent that the information she passed related in the main to proposed attacks on civilians. But she felt like a former combatant, and felt that her skills could help CEDAC’s mission to build a better Burundi, so she joined the organisation and is now the Executive Secretary of its women’s programme. She uses this position to help other women ex-combatants, many of whom suffered in the field, and are in vulnerable positions; they may have been rejected by their husbands, or their husbands may have been killed, and their children may be in an awkward position, particularly those born in the bush, whose fathers may not be identifiable. Their problems are exacerbated by widespread illiteracy among women, making it difficult for them to access and understand their rights.

CEDAC can help these women through advice, legal and otherwise, and assistance in claiming their rights. They are helping women understand how to take themselves through life without their husbands, by forming support groups of women. Through this, they help them develop means of supporting themselves without turning to prostitution, something that is common among ex-combatant women, and is linked with rising AIDS infection rates, particularly in the cities*. She says that this work appeals to both sides of her character; her lawyer’s wish to promote justice, and her wish to support other women. Asked about her hope for the future, she says that she hopes that women ex-combatants can live like others, with the ex-combatant spirit extinguished, and expresses her belief that CEDAC can make a huge contribution to peace, showing that it is possible to make a difference with neither money nor power; nothing except a vision of peace.

* The wife of a friend works on the World Bank’s AIDS programme in Burundi, and tells me that current infection rates are around 2.5% in the country, and 9% in Bujumbura, but particularly the latter figure is rising fast.