Clairance Mpawenimana

The whole time I’m talking to Clairance Mpawenimana, I’m struggling not to cry. Not because of what she says, but because of what she’s not saying. She has been introduced to me as a survivor of Gender Based Violence, but although we talk at length about the war and her experiences during that period, GBV remains the elephant in the room; as we approach the subject, she looks away, and I can’t push her further.

Introducing herself, she tells me that she has just finished secondary school, and hopes to go to university next year to study humanities. She was only a child in 1993, but children remember things and the images return. She was living in Kinaba at the time, one of the most affected areas, and she remembers seeing people killed because of their ethnicity, something she didn’t understand at the time (this is common in Burundi; many survivors relate that the first time they knew their ethnicity was when they lost relatives in one of the various periods of massacres). Because there was war in the quartiers, they fled to the mountains, and when they were bombarded there, to Congo; you have to be pretty desperate for Congo to seem like a safe haven. Life there was difficult, but they survived, and, eventually, they were able to come home.

On their return, they found that the family was dispersed, with many dead. She felt wounded, angry and defeated, and was depressed about hers and the country’s future. However, through involvement with CEDAC, she was given six months of training by Search for Common Ground. This was vital in helping her heal her body and spirit, and helped her finally to forgive her former enemies. They were trained to promote unity and be a good example in their communities, something she has tried to do through her work with CEDAC,where she participates in peer support meetings and tries to spread CEDAC’s message in her wider community. Turning back to the war, she says that she still finds it hard to understand what happened, but says that the priority must be to ensure that they never return to that position. She says that the future will be better if all Burundians changed their ideas. She has high hopes for the elections in 2010; although there are obstacles, she feels that only a few have bad ambitions and she hopes that the majority will prevail. She hopes to be a part of changing these ideas, and in helping CEDAC’s work of using the forces use for destruction to rebuild her country.

Listening to Clairance share her story and her hopes for the future has been humbling. She is younger than me, but has faced more than I can imagine, and has picked herself up, and is now trying to help others in her community do the same. Talking to her, I desperately want to wave a magic wand and make this whole country better, but, unfortunately that isn’t an option. Instead, I hope that by empowering young people like Clairance to claim peace and rebuild their country, we can contribute to ensuring that no more young people have to go through these things – in this country at least.

Barnaby

Barnaby quickly grew to dislike army life; he talks of always being on patrol, of a constant lack of sleep, of being so tired that he slept while marching. As a result, when he was offered demobilisation in 2004 he took it. However, like many others, he struggled to adjust. During demobilisation he came into contact with people from the other forces, realising the pointlessness of it all but finding it easier to get on with these people who had had similar experiences to him. Involvement with CEDAC, which started when he was introduced to the organisation by some of his old comrades, has helped further. It has helped him to stay in contact with former fighters through training sessions and sport, and its vision of harnessing the energy of former soldiers to rebuild the country has, he says, inspired him. He is particularly keen to emphasise their work in promoting disarmament and the handing in of small arms, which he sees as vital to a lasting peace, and he works to spread that message in his neighbourhood.

Barnaby is clearly still delighted to be out of the army, and CEDAC has helped those in the colline* adjust to his return and welcome him back. However, he still has enormous problems. He is one of the less educated people I have spoken to (he does not speak French, so is speaking through Eric), and although he was trained as a driver and auto mechanic by CEDAC, he has not been able to find work, and his demobilisation package is long gone. Although he remains optimistic and prays for peace and better times to come, he faces a constant struggle to support his wife and two children. His story therefore demonstrates not only the progress this country has made, but also how far it has to go in terms of fighting poverty and promoting growth that can form the basis of a lasting peace.

That said, I want to end on a positive note. When I have finished interviewing him and Jean-Baptiste, these former adversaries leave arm-in-arm; reconciliation does seem to be working.

*unlike most places in Africa, Burundians do not traditionally live in villages, but in extended family units on a single hill, or colline.

Jean-Baptiste Simbo is gregarious, smiling and open. He is happy to admit his past as a member of the FDD, one of Burundi’s many rebel groups, for four years ‘dans le forêt’ (in the bush), between 1999 and 2003. He is 26 now, only one year older than me, meaning that he was 16 when he was abducted from his secondary school in Guyanza and forced to join the rebels. Asked why he didn’t try to escape, he tells me that his parents had been killed in 1993, and that he had thought about joining the rebellion ever since, but his family had always stopped him. And then, little by little ‘his spirit changed’ and he ‘found the rhythm’ of rebel life. But, he says, there was always a part of his spirit that said ‘no’, and he always longed for civilian life. With a few close friends he discussed leaving, but was never able to carry through his plan; there was always a risk, and he feared that should he return to the community the friends of the movement would turn against him. But in 2003, when he was given the choice of integrating into the army or demobilising, he jumped at the chance to demobilise.

Jean-Baptiste

However, returning to civilian life was not a panacea. The demobilisation centre helped to address hatred, as former rebels and members of the army passed through together, and he is on good terms with many of those who demobilised at the same time as him. They make jokes about ethnicity together; overcoming years of conflict that, he says, was stirred up by politicians. However, although he felt reconciled with his former enemies, he struggled to adjust to civilian life and did not regain his sense of self-worth until joining CEDAC, when he was inspired by Eric’s vision. He argues that the situation was caused by politicians – who, having stirred up the hatred that started the war, enriched themselves while others fought.

Through CEDAC, he realised that he could be more than just a destroyer, and could change his life. He realised that it was up to him and people like him – those who committed human rights abuses during the war – to work to prevent them now. Through this and other initiatives he saw the importance of working to help rebuild what he had helped destroy, seeing it in terms of making reparations for the damage he had done in the war. He is now a member of CEDAC’s organising committee, trying to reach out to other former rebels and encourage them to join the organisation, helping to organise peer support meetings, and training sessions, and helping coordinate CEDAC’s microfinance programme. He is also closely involved with the Peaceful Elections Campaign, which aims to sensitise former combatants to be committed to peaceful elections and give a positive example of this commitment. Although reintegration never went smoothly; as he points out, it “is not automatic”, he is now a prominent youth leader in his community, consulted on many issues, and works to promote CEDAC’s vision to other former combatants, especially those from the FNL who are only just demobilising.

Those who follow football will know that the Confederations cup (the winner from each of the 6 regions, plus the world champions and the host, I think) is currently taking place in South Africa. Those of you who know me will know I have no interest in football, but Brian who I live with does, which means I’ve watched more football in the last month than in pretty much the last five years combined. However, it has given me an opportunity to ruminate on Pan-Africanism.

Those of you familiar with African history will be aware of the Pan-Africanist movement, and its incarnation in the Organisation of African Unity and its successor, the African Union. Watching the football here I have been struck by the way the entire city is gripped by South Africa’s and Egypt’s matches, feeling that those teams represent the entire continent. This is particularly striking in the case of Egypt; Westerners are not used to seeing Egypt as part of Africa, but Africans themselves certainly do – though with the caveat that when a Sub-Saharan team meets a North African team ‘they are black’ (if you’re interested, when a Francophone team plays an Anglophone team they are French-speaking, and when an East African team plays another African team they are East African. Burundi doesn’t often play anyone). However, even more impressive has been the pride that Burundians feel in the Confederations cup being held on African soil, and the prospect of the World Cup next year. They say that this is something they never dreamed they would see, and dream of travelling to South Africa to see it, hoping that its success will change the view of Africa in the eyes of the world. In other words, there is a strong sense of supporting South Africa in their endeavours, and hope of sharing in their success. Moreover, it is clear that this is not unique to Burundi; features on DSTV show fans across the continent expressing similar sentiments.

What I also find surprising is that I have taken so long to notice this, because it seems so natural – it’s something that I do myself as a very-slightly-African (though obviously only once England/GB have been knocked out!). But thinking about it, I wonder how widespread it is – it certainly doesn’t exist in Europe, and I can’t really see how it would work in Asia, which anyway seems too divided. There is certainly solidarity within subregions (see Eurovision Song Contest voting patterns, if nothing else!), but for such a feeling to exist across as continent of 53 countries seems unique – can anyone with knowledge of other parts of the world (Latin America, Oceania?) give any further insight? It suggests to me that a type of African solidarity persists that is unusual, if not unique, across the world.

This has caused problems in the past, with leaders unwilling to criticise each other and banding together against criticism of their own by outsiders. However, it may have contributed to the relative lack of interstate wars in Africa (although they have made up for it in intrastate wars), and Africans are generally prepared to learn from each other, and see themselves as sufficiently similar for it to be worth doing so. When I make comparisons between Burundi and some of the other countries I have knowledge of, they are not rejected as they might be in other parts of the world, and when I talk about the importance of the peaceful elections campaign (on which more later), my colleagues reply not only in terms of its importance for Burundi, but also their hopes that if successful it could be a model for the rest of the continent. It is, therefore, also a strength, and I hope that in this blog I will be able to place Burundi in its African context, not only in terms of the ‘bad neighbourhood’ problems that it brings, but also in terms of the positive intellectual trends.

Talking to Eric Uwimana

Eric Uwimana

Eric is strongly critical of the reintegration of the army, saying that although there were 21,000 members of the FNL, only 3,500 were integrated into the national army – and only 5,000 have been through official demobilisation processes, meaning that there are another 12,500 running around with guns and no means of making money. Not a comforting thought; Eric confirms that many of them have become bandits. He also tells me that relations in the newly-integrated army are poor, with soldiers who were former members of the other factions accusing him of not working, and is resentful of his loss in status from Commander to Sergeant-Major. Eric also displays the heightened masculinity common among soldiers; he seems almost boastful when talking about his past, and when Eric (Niragira, director of CEDAC) asks us to pose for a photo, he tries to feel me up. Considering his rebel past and army present, I decide against punching him in the face.

At this point in the interview, I was not optimistic. However, when we began to talk about CEDAC, my view changed. Eric talks about how group meetings with members of the other factions, organised through CEDAC, have helped him to open up and talk about his past. He is still in contact by phone with some of the other people he met through these sessions, and expresses a strong commitment to CEDAC’s vision of a peaceful Burundi, with former soldiers integrated and setting the example for peace. Growing sober, he says that war makes you do things that you would never otherwise do because they seem normal, and that talking to fellow members of CEDAC helped him see the damage done to those who did nothing – the civilians. Asked if he would do the same again, he is adamant that he would not; indeed, he is keen to leave the army and is searching for other opportunities. Finally, he expresses his hope that no other rebel group with emerge now that the FNL has laid down arms, and emphasises the importance of talking about what they did so that Burundi will not go to war again.

Talking to Eric was fascinating; in many respects he embodies the problems faced by Burundi; young, radicalised, accustomed to violence, and embodying the aggressive masculinity that is so dangerous. However, the sentiments that he expresses once he stops trying to show off are encouraging, and suggest that he is genuinely committed to peace. In many ways, he therefore demonstrates the success that CEDAC can have in reconciling even those who were genuinely committed rebels, with high positions, and the importance of the peer support model in achieving this.

*Francophones: I am unsure how best to translate this? Harassed? Any thoughts?

Meeting Fabiola Nshimirimana, I can barely believe her past. Beautiful, smiling, and very pregnant indeed, she welcomes me into the room where her microproject is based, renting out glasses and chairs for events and making baskets and gourds. Her demeanour changes only slightly when I ask her about the war, telling me that she was a member of the FDD (Hutu rebels, at first led by a former Minister of the Interior angered at the Army’s attempt to sabotage the democratic government, then led by current President Pierre Nkurunziza). She tells me that in 1997, when she was 17 and in secondary school, she was taken by force by the rebels, and from then on did what the others did to survive. Although she thought of deserting, she feared that she would face problems if she returned home and risked being abducted again; later, however, Eric tells me that she was highly ranked in the rebels and was one of their most fierce fighters.

Talking about the war, she grows more sober, with fewer nervous laughs. Speaking through Eric as she is uncomfortable in French (I have heard some reports that among the rebels those speaking French or English risked being killed) She tells us that the conditions through the whole period were horrible, and that she found it hard to live, and that as a woman – one of about 200 in her brigade – she found it especially hard to adapt. There were many things they needed in combat that were not available. Later, as I am about to leave, she shows me her legs, covered with scars from her time in the bush.

Fabiola Nshimirimana

In this position, the support she gained from CEDAC was vital. She was able to meet with other former combatants, including women, who could share experiences and ideas. Exchanging experiences and problems that they had faced allowed them to find solutions together. Through this organisation, she has had contact with many women, and now has a number of close friends from other forces, something that has changed her attitude as she now feels more able to relate to them and relax with them. CEDAC also helped her in establishing her microproject with other women, using the money that came with their demobilisation packages. Although the other women were later forced to leave the project, Fabiola is continuing to work and hopes to make it a success. Again, the support she has received from Eric and her peer network at CEDAC has been vital, and she hopes that by participating in these meetings she will be able to help other women in Burundi who are struggling to adjust to peace.

David Niyozima, a former professor of psychology at the University of Oregon, and himself a survivor of war, whose experiences are discussed in his book ‘Unlocking Horns‘ is the director and founder of THARS, standing for Trauma, Healing and Reconciliation Services. Believing that unaddressed trauma sows the seeds for future conflict, they aim to provide a ‘holistic approach’ to pyschosocial healing and resolutions of differences. They approach this by providing counselling sessions to victims of war, including victims of torture (in which definition he explicitly includes rape, including marital rape, and domestic violence), and setting up self-help groups including different ethnicities to provide peer support, collectively save money, and invest it in microprojects. They believe that this approach can effectively address trauma, as well as fostering reconciliation and peaceful dispute resolution.

THARS was founded in 1999, and was originally linked with the Society of Friends (Quakers) in Burundi; David Niyonzima is himself a Pastor and former General Secretary of the Burundi Yearly Meeting. However, he is keen to emphasise that they are a secular organisation who help everyone, regardless of faith. They began by training community Listeners in how to listen, the stages of trauma, strategies to overcome it, and avenues of further assistance, such as further psychological help, or legal options. These Listeners went to work in ‘Listening Centres’, around the country, where people suffering from trauma could come and tell their stories. Severe cases from the Listening Centres could then be referred to specialised psychologists. These Centres were accompanied by ‘support groups’ of survivors and communities who could help those people with the slow process of overcoming trauma, as well as promoting peace and reconciliation in their districts.

THARS also works on issues to do with torture and sexual violence, providing shelter houses for women who have been raped. Here they can access medical and psychological assistance, while THARS staff work with their families to encourage them to welcome them back – without which intervention, these women often have few options and have a high risk of further assault. They receive further support while in their communities through support groups, and participation in the ‘peace through pieces’ project.

As well as practical work to aid trauma survivors, THARS has a campaign element, promoting the importance of mental health to the authorities, by advocating for its inclusion in the national health strategy. This is an issue of much importance that is far from being confined to developing countries; even in the developing world, mental health advocates complain that their problems are treated less seriously than problems of physical health. Their campaigns, using the radio, television and public meetings, also target the population at large, educating people to be aware that they need not suffer in silence, and services are available to help, and that breaking silence, for example about rape or domestic violence, can be an important means of healing, and a crucial first step in overcoming the problem. They also campaign for peaceful dispute resolution through the Alternatives to Violence Programme (AVP), pioneered in US jails, and adapted for use in a post-conflict African country. Finally, they document all of their interventions and the survivors who visit them, providing a rich source of information for those studying trauma in countries emerging from conflict, that, it may be hoped, will allow programmes such as THARS to be gradually improved and duplicated in other countries.

For anyone further interested in THARS’ work, I would strongly recommend reading the ‘stories of healing‘ section of their website. The section closes with a quote that sums up for me the importance of grass roots work:

“Often it feels as if our progress is small in comparison to the size of the problem. But we now have files full of cases where a huge difference has been made in the lives of individuals. We are beginning to see changes in the communities where we work. It is difficult work, but all of us feel good about doing it.”

Survivor Corps will be partnering THARS to train some of their survivors in Survivor Corps’ Peer-to-Peer support method. I will be assisting with this project by adding to THARS’ stock of profiles, photographs and film, aiming to link together their aims and work with that of Survivor Corps, and show how Peer-to-Peer support can complement THARS’ other interventions.

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!

The first organisation Survivor Corps Burundi works with is the Associations des Femmes Juridiques du Burundi (AFJB). They are an umbrella organisation including many of the countries women’s organisations, and exist to provide support to vulnerable women around the country, ensure that they are able to exercise their legal rights, and lobby for better legal protection of women. When I meet the Programmes Officer, Patricia Ntahorubuze, she talks about the ways in which women can be doubly marginalised; in a general sense of being poor, displaced, or traumatised by war, but in the second place due to the attitudes their families take to them, and the failure to recognise their specific needs.

She talks of the many types of women who are vulnerable; widows, former combatants, former child soldiers, those who have been raped, and girls who are head of their households. These women often struggle to integrate in their communities; if they have been raped, they may face rejection by their families and communities. Similarly, former combatants who are women have violated many strongly-held gender norms, and will struggle to reintegrate for this reason. Unfortunately, these two categories will often overlap; many women who have participated in the war will also have been subjected to gender based violence. Many of the women the AFJB exists to help also have problems relating to property, particularly in the case of widows, who risk being “chased from the house” as their husband’s family tries to claim their property and “manage” the widow – a violation of numerous rights including the rights to property, privacy, and family.

Perhaps the most serious problems however, in that that they combine the two, are faced by women who have had children as a result of rape or who during their time “in the bush” (i.e. with the rebels). In these cases it will often be impossible to identify the father, and even when he can be identified he will often not accept the baby. The mothers of these children often face rejection by their families, while their children will be unable to inherit from their fathers (as would traditionally be the case) or their mothers (as they have been rejected by the family); this is an issue that has arisen in similar terms in Northern Uganda, where it has been studied in some detail by the Justice and Reconciliation project. At a psychological level, the children affected will often suffer from identity crises, and as a result have behavioural problems; these children are also survivors, and will need help if they are to claim their rights and integrate successfully into their communities.

The AFJB is able to help these women in a number of ways; in the first place, echoing The Advocacy Project‘s goal, by simply listening to them and allowing them to tell their story. The importance AFJB places on this demonstrates clearly the importance of disempowerment *as such* in creating problems for these women; when they feel excluded, and not listened to, they are less likely to feel confident enough to claim their rights against substantial social pressures to acquiesce in their marginalisation. Listening therefore constitutes an important first step in AFJB’s work. It does not, however, stop there; as an organisation of lawyers, they are in a strong position to offer practical help to women whose legal rights are being violated, ensuring that they can retain access to their property and any services owed them – this is particularly important given the large number of land claims resulting from the return of tens of thousands of refugees and internally displaced persons. Finally, they are lobbying for changes in the law to better protect women, in particular a proposed law against Gender Based Violence. I will be helping AFJB by profiling some of the survivors they are working with, helping them develop their web presence, and helping them use the profiles and other materials in their campaigns to improve women’s rights in Burundi.

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.

Orthodox church

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.