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.