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.

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?

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.

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!

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.

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.

A group of Kenyans have translated Facebook into Swahili to make it more accessible and safeguard the future of the language, and other people are doing the same with Hausa and Zulu. Pretty cool! Now all I want to know is who translated it into Pirate…

Drums and Dancing in the City

After the practice Pierre Claver, who knows everybody, introduces me to one of the performers, Eddie. He tells me that the group was formed by students in secondary schools and at the university, and that they get paid upwards from 200,000 Burundian Francs (about $165) per performance, and that they are using it to support themselves, and in some cases their families as well, during their studies. Eddie himself finished secondary school last year, and has taken a year off, but plans to enrol in the university next year. He also tells me that they have been invited to perform worldwide – but have not yet been able to do so due to being unable to get visas, but that even if he could stay in the US, he would always come home.

Drums and Dancing in the City

However, perhaps the most inspirational part of the performance came at the end, when someone on crutches got up to dance, beating the drums and dancing on the crutches as a full part of the troupe. The to me demonstrated more clearly than almost anything else how people with disabilities can participate in almost anything – even activities that depend on enormous levels of physical fitness and ability.

Drums and Dancing in the City

Drums and Dancing in the City

Looking deeper, the impact of the war is clear. There are the physical hints; like in Northern Uganda, every other car bears the logo of an NGO or international organisation, and Burundians seem to use the word ‘Peace’ in signs for everything from supermarkets to Forex bureaus. It is also clear in the lack of development in the city; compared to other regional capitals, such as Kampala or Kigali, Bujumbura is tiny, and underdeveloped. While driving home we see people washing in the drainage ditches in the middle of the road; a sure sign of poverty. But more importantly, when people talk, they refer back to the war. Pierre Claver, the country director of Survivor Corps, who I will be working with this summer, tells me that all of his siblings abandoned the Catholic Church for Protestantism, ‘because of the war’. I share a Primus (or seven) with my hosts, Nana and Bryan, and some of their friends, and the conversation turns to the war – talk of bullets overhead, bombs landing, and arrests for breaking curfew. In the afternoon we meet General Joseph, a former rebel now working for the government on the DDR programme. I am expecting someone middle aged or older, but to my surprise he is no older than his mid-thirties; war makes young leaders. He is, however, fascinating to talk to; he tells us that they are currently working with between 33,000 and 35,000 former combatants of all ethnicities, ages and genders.

We also met Eric, director of CEDAC, an umbrella organisation for former combatants, a massively motivated man who is working for free alongside his studies, committed to promoting reconciliation between former combatants of different sides, and their victims. He talks about the need to get the two sides talking, to provide economic alternatives to violence, and about the Peaceful Elections campaign, where former combatants are trained to promote the importance of democracy and peaceful elections.

Both of these early meetings have left me profoundly optimistic about Burundi’s future, But perhaps the most hopeful sign came in the conversation with my hosts, when Bryan’s brother, who lives in Canada and who hasn’t returned to Burundi in the last ten years, told me that he has been back twice in the last two years, and is thinking of returning to Burundi with his family. Although I am aware that the situation will appear differently in rural areas, I am very much look forward to meeting some of the survivors who work with Survivor Corps and CEDAC, and helping tell some of their stories about the work they are doing to promote peace in the country.