October 12 - Katie, Will, and Alex

Disclaimer: This post is dedicated to Katie, Will, and Alex—all three fantastic individuals that I worked with this past year on a Community Change Initiative which focused on creating an experiential learning program for disadvantaged and marginalized youth in Denver. While facing several challenges, our group defended our project and had to remain open-minded to multiple perspectives on this issue of homelessness in the process of fully engaging with local communities for the sake of change. For the three of you, I hope study abroad is making your heart pump as much as it is mine! I can't wait to catch up once we get back to school during Winter Quarter.

While the journey to Gulu, Uganda was not particularly peaceful or comforting, I find myself in awe of the tranquility and simplicity of this town.

Stocks of green bananas
being sold at the settlement 

Before arriving here on October 8th, I traveled to Mbarara and Kampala, the country's prized locale of commerce and economic activity. In Mbarara, I met with refugees located in the Nakivale settlement (separate from a refugee camp because it's more permanent). Although the conversation started off very quietly, awkward and nondescript, the refugees eventually began to tell a completely different version of the Genocide, several of them insinuating a double genocide occurring in 1994.

Throughout the conversation, I tried to remain calm and keep an open mind to their alternative perspective, including a different perspective on Operation Turquoise, a french-led military operation before the auspices of the United Nations Assistance Mission for Rwanda, which seemingly failed in its attempts protect Tutsi lives. These refugees primarily claimed that there were several atrocities against Hutus which are hardly ever recognized in the media or in print. One of the refugees went as far as saying that there were bodies buried in CARE International facilities in Rwanda, supposing that there was covert yet visible U.S. involvement in hiding Hutu deaths during the Genocide. He claimed that he could show anyone and knows the names of the people buried beneath the toilets in Kigali, Rwanda—the place I now call my second home.

The kids from the Rwandan refugee area

Moreover, other refugees asserted the deplorable realities hidden beneath the façade of Kigali’s development. They said that it was all an illusion which we were experiencing—that all muzungus (white people) had been fooled to believing that Rwanda has actually progressed past its history of unruly violence and ethnic disparities—and on the periphery of the nation exists daily killings, kidnapping, and disappearances. Who orchestrates these masked operations? The merciful President of Rwanda, Paul Kagame. One refugee held that it was a true misfortune as to how many muzungus blindly accept the facts presented to them rather than exploring additional narratives to complete a more holistic analysis. This same refugee went on to accuse the U.S. for supporting the Central African Republic and Rwanda militarily during its dangerous and perpetrating coups. He stated that France and the U.S. were practically biological brothers in their attempts to militarize racial and ethnocentric divides in E. African countries.

With Marie, a refugee, and Hannah

At first, I viewed this narrative with an eye of unaccepting hostility and defensiveness. I did not understand why these refugees felt the need to practically attack their inquisitive audience for innocently coming from America to study and learn more about their thoughts and ideas. Later in the day, I ran into the man who had accused the U.S. of its partnership with France and he cordially showed me to the restroom. He was disconnectedly nice and very respectful. This incongruence in character had my mind spinning. Despite the positive rapport we had just established, I still felt extremely wary about fully trusting him. I felt like I was trying to keep an open mind, be respectful of his cultural environment, and not make blanketing generalizations; however, I did not feel like my efforts were being reciprocated. Instead, they were juxtaposed by the man’s assumptions of my privileged culture and white ignorance when not challenging facts offered by every teacher or book.

(Side note: My roommate, John, can see the visible frustration on my face while writing and just said that he was going leave me to “brood and write”, ha).

My first thought was to criticize the man for being sorely mistaken. The truth is that I certainly question everything I hear or read because I know that every account has an inherent origin, bias, and limitation. Hypocritically, the man had also just asked the group of ignorant muzungus to then follow suit with our “typical behavior” and accept his narrative as fact without question even though he had just criticized this blind acceptance two minutes earlier.

Church at Nakivale

This encounter led to a broader group discussion about truth, truth-telling, and truth acquisition. I philosophically questioned: What is truth? What can I learn from the refugees at the Nakivale settlement that does not negate my personal knowledge of the Genocide? I finally came to the conclusion that it ultimately doesn’t matter who is right or wrong, but that it is the job of an effective historian (or a 21st century student) to be able to hold two opposing views concurrently and dispose of a natural obsession with singular truths and be able to instead focus on multidimensional narratives which lead to a broader encompassing of the conflict in Rwanda.

Quick break from school

Rather than dismissing these narratives as ignorant, getting frustrated by personal attacks, or ignoring words because of their potential cognitive bias or embellished motifs, it is important to include them all in a larger conceptualization of the Genocide as less black and white, less perpetrator versus victim—and hopefully towards a direction more deep, complex, and multiperspectival. In the end, is it truth defined by the majority that really matters? Or is it the recognition that everyone’s story and viewpoint matters in its own dignified regard? Perhaps if everyone understood that there have been crimes committed by both Hutu and Tutsi during or post-genocide, there would not remain such an ingrained depression and absence of support for refugees in Nakivale—those who feel like their side of the story is seldom told. While a double genocide or genocide denial (because a majority of Tutsi were killed during the Genocide) or a accusations concerning Kagame may not be grounded in truth, their story is still important because it’s the story they know to be true and the cause of their current maladaptation and marginalization in refugee settlements.

Congolese refugee says, "Peace, man"

History has always been written by the winners, something my history teacher from sophomore year of high school used to say. And the ability to stand in a privileged place and completely dismiss certain narratives for their potential inaccuracy robs people of their dignity. After all, none of these people (not just defined by their refugee status) have anything to gain from lying to a group of strangers. Their lives remain cloaked under the danger of the single story and their incapacity to leave settlements because of poor repatriation conditions. Life for refugees remains in a perennial limbo state—one between the worlds of abandonment of past lives and one of self-advocacy and subsequent alienation for their stories. I finally understand how crucial it is to obtain several points of view on complex matters like the Genocide; because by not doing it, you further marginalize and dispossess a group already hurting under international and domestic pressure, you blindly accept your own version of the truth, and you allow history to be told by the educated and privileged rather than the marginalized and oppressed.

October 6 - Sadie

Disclaimer: This post is dedicated to Sadie Gettings, a great friend who never ceases to amaze me with her comical talents and ability to dance in the rain no matter the circumstance.

The rain offers a comfortable yet never too simple gesture during the day. As I sit here thinking about what has happened thus far and all the challenges ahead, I am reminded that there’s nothing a good rainfall can’t fix. Today, the rain was particularly aggressive, inciting minor flooding around my homestay. As the rain fell heavily, inundating the patches of flowers outside and the tin roof above felt like it was about to collapse under the hail, I thought about some of the great cleansing and eye-opening things I’ve discovered while being here:

•  While the U.S. may want to impose Western ideals of democracy, there are just certain concepts that just won’t work given the context of the post-genocide era. For example, freedom of speech may be an unabated right within the U.S. Constitution that will not function in Rwandan society given the Genocide Ideology Law, which punishes anyone for labeling or advertising certain divisionism between Hutu and Tutsis. While the Constitution may uphold a tenable First Amendment, Rwanda still has an unforgiving “cast” of fear which maintains stability and security as the two most important objectives of the government. With freedom of speech running rampant, citizens might become scared of a potential second genocide.

• While the Rwandan government has deferred the onset of the Cessation Clause for refugees, there is still a push to solve the repatriation problem.  In order to push refugees back to Rwanda, UNHCR has supported a voluntary movement of refugees, local integration, or relocation/resettlement. Rwandan refugees live all around the world and don’t return based on fear of ethnic or criminal persecution.

• The “Ndi umunyarwanda” (meaning “I am Rwandan”) program promoted by the National Unity and Reconciliation Commission, the main organ of post-genocide restoration in Rwanda, is meant to help Rwandans rediscover their ancestral roots which ultimately got distorted during colonialism and during the genocide which pitted one ethnicity against another. However, with a critical eye, this program could essentially be “cleansing” the Rwandan population of ingrained ethnic lines which greatly matter (i.e. intermarriage is still recognizable and debated). From a completely oppositional voice, the program could help the Ruling Party convince people that they should not question the government, representation, or development—a guise for the fact that the same party has been in hierarchical and centralized power for the last twenty years.

• Traumatic memory may not be the most accurate of memories, and collective apologies only pass the buck to future generations to make up for parental wrongs. In a post-genocide or post-conflict environment, the past needs to evade the present. Transmission, in its most positive sense, is about offering well-being to the next generation rather than relying on familial and ethnic relations to punish and guilt individuals for the transgressions they have not committed. There needs to be a notion of resilient distance when telling a genocide narrative so that one is truly eliminating ethnic ties rather than supporting them for innocents to be culpable or for only one history to be told.

• Since Rwanda is no longer in an emergency situation now, the classic question remains whether its form of democracy will lead to sustainable peace and development. With this economic reconstruction, there is often avoidance and a complete inconsideration of mental health. Upholding posterity, there needs to be a greater cleavage of mental institutions such that mental health is separated from trauma, since the two are not related. Since safety has been restored, there needs to be greater attention offered to mental resources so that society can psychosocially reach its full potential.

Overall, I have learned a ton, but my academic knowledge has in no way superseded the knowledge I have gained outside of the classroom by talking with people at a grassroots level with the little Kinyarwanda that I do know. I am so thankful to be studying abroad to be able to have a first-hand account on many of these foregrounded issues rather than just blindly accepting my textbook iterations. 

October 2 - Kathy

Disclaimer: This post is dedicated to Kathy Inkhamfong, a friend who has continually given me chances and has never given up on our friendship despite the several mistakes I have made along the way. It feels good to know that a friend is willing to accept you back even after you have transgressed and wronged them. Thank you, Kathy, for letting me back in your life and for us to have such a special friendship—in whatever discombobulated, unconventional, and challenging package it may arrive in.

Today, I visited a TIG camp of Rwanda. Known by its French acronym, these camps or plots of land are specifically reserved for community service projects orchestrated by TIGists—individuals convicted of genocide or crimes against humanity. These genocidaires were categorized as members of the second tier of criminals by Gacaca courts (i.e. those who actually murdered one or more individuals during the Genocide). To put it briefly, these community services are used as an alternative sentence for convicted individuals. These TIGists must have confessed to their exclusive involvement in the genocide, entered a plea bargain, and shown legitimate remorse for the crimes committed before entering the courts. Sentences are usually reduced by a half and TIGists perform, while under de facto house arrest, unpaid for work for the greater public interest. Even though there is no gender requirement in place, the population is predominately male.

(Please keep in mind that the following is only an example of one camp, and no generalizations or assumptions should be made from this singular, narrowly-defined experience).

The one camp I visited, Ngororero, in the Western Province, had 109 TIGists with only three staff members from Rwanda Correctional Service to manage the camp. At the camp, TIGists work approximately 48 hours and have 2 additional hours per week dedicated to Civic Education. Daily work typically includes making bricks from concrete, cleaning up the TIG camp area, or engaging in other activities which benefit local communities. On average, each perpetrator produces 100 bricks per day, leading to a total of 3.9 million bricks produced per year. These bricks are often used in local construction projects and state infrastructure development.

The Civic Education program has helped tremendously to teach local government, how to reintegrate back into the community, relevant laws in place, and peacebuilding methods. Classes  are usually taught by local leaders and according to our guide, Pelly (from Rwanda Correctional Service), the camps are making headway on several national objectives: providing a solution to the overcrowding issue in the prisons, allowing genocidaires to confess to crimes, reducing potentially unfair sentences, and ameliorating reintegration and recidivism issues. In addition, members are not chained or handcuffed by any means; instead, they are actually free to roam around the camp and leave the grounds autonomously. In addition, they are allowed ten days per month to take a break, return to their homesteads, and talk with their families. With the camp only incurring a couple of escapes per year, the program is constructive and empowering rather than demeaning and retributive for perpetrators.

TIG is aimed at primarily strengthening Unity and Reconciliation of Rwandans and making great strides towards national development and peace. The community service members are treated with more respect and agaciro (dignity) because of their abilities to admit to past wrongs and move forward with acceptance of appropriate community-uplifting punishment. These perpetrators are even given an opportunity to play games with local residents of areas in which they are working; small children are free to roam around the camp and talk with these workers about their daily tasks. Naturally, many TIG convicts have completed their sentences and have reintegrated back in their communities. The hope is that they are changed by their experience and are ready to participate civilly and productively in society.

At first, coming to the camp with such a biased Western perspective on what justice constitutes, I was an immediate skeptic –unable to remove my distrust and disgust with people who commit genocide or crimes against humanity. However, after actually talking with the TIGists themselves and being convinced of their rooted desire to right past wrongs, earn trust retrospectively lost, and move forward in a realm of forgiveness rather than resentment, I began to shift my stringent paradigm. After all, I have always contended that everyone during genocide is a victim; both the perpetrators and the victims incur great losses through the manipulation, propaganda, and coercive means of the state.

Looking into their solemn eyes and critically analyzing their stances of conviction, I could sense a dark past which was ostensibly being demarcated with a future of self-forgiveness and self-betterment. While I never truly believe that someone can completely move forward after participating in genocide, I do believe that there should be more spaces for restorative justice so that previous criminals are not perennially defined by their crimes but, instead, embrace community, embrace reintegration, and challenge themselves and the world of justice to forge a new path.