Contradictions, Complications, Juxtapositions, and Genocide
7 April 2009 at 03:10 Julie Ross 25 comments
It’s easier to make sense of Rwanda if you erase the human element of the Genocide that happened here fifteen years ago. If we could just pretend it wasn’t actual people who perpetrated the one million unthinkable acts, it would simplify the dynamics of the country. Afterall, if we acknowledge that it was not only people but fellow Rwandese who held the machetes, we need to also see that they still exist—and not in an abstract way but in a day-to-day, walking down the street, drinking milk for breakfast, and sending children to school kind of way.
Many perpetrators of the 1994 Genocide, or genocidaires, are in prisons throughout the country. It is likely that many others are not. Either way, those who committed the Genocide still live amongst those who survived. Prisoners do manual labor all over the country, working on plots of land, building brick walls along roads, and doing various other public works projects in plain sight. Their blue, orange, and pink uniforms (each prisoner is in one color which signifies the gravity of their crimes or status in prison) dot roads and farms throughout the country as they serve their time while the rest of the country looks on. They pass through lives as they stand packed in the backs of trucks and taken between their projects and their cells. It is a testament to the discipline and ingenuity of President Kagame that he has those who ripped the country apart now manually putting it back together. As he drives to develop his country, he is making use of those who, through violence, instilled the urgent need.
I have told some people back home about this, about the uniforms, about the prisoners, about their constant presence and my inability to grasp even a fraction of what it must be like to be a survivor and see them every day, because I’m here fifteen years later and as an outsider and even I shudder at the sight. Those back home are always shocked. “You mean you see them!” Well, yes. This is recent history—very much within the memories of those still living. One of the most complex issues this country faces is how to go on, develop, heal, when the painful past remains present. After a horrific divisiveness, how is everyone supposed to come together again?
I cannot begin to answer that question—far more gifted people than I are still grappling with it—but I would like to try to convey a sense of the impossible complexity of the issue. In January I went to visit a client in a rural part of Rwanda. We spoke to a woman who proudly showed the many ways in which she has expanded her business since receiving the Kiva loan. Afterwards, I went to the Kiva website to post a journal update on this woman but couldn’t find her on the site. A few weeks later I went back to the branch and told them she must not be a Kiva client. “Oh,” they responded, “the loan is in her husband’s name, not hers. He was just away that day.”
A month after that I discovered that “away that day” was a euphemism for “serving time in prison for perpetrating the 1994 Tutsi Genocide.” This time, the husband who had been away was now back so we were going to go see him for a Journal update interview.
I generally don’t get anxiety before meeting with microfinance clients. In my experience, there is little to be anxious about, minus some possible awkward moments or silent staring at one another if the translator leaves the room. This time, I began to panic. I knew that if I saw him as a microfinance client, he would have to be human. Previously, I saw genocidaires at enough of a distance that I wasn’t forced to remember their humanity or look them in the eye. I’m not proud to admit: I preferred it that way. This would complicate what I had been trying to simplify. A question that comes up repeatedly here is how so many “normal” people, non-violent people, certainly not killers, could have been moved to pick up weapons and kill their neighbors. It makes no sense. I knew that meeting one of these complicated individuals whose motivation I would never understand would confuse the idea in my head even more.
I spent the car ride to his remote home trying to imagine what he would be like and bracing myself to be professional despite biases. My preparation was cut short as, along a dirt road, the staff told the driver to stop the car and exclaimed, “This is our client!” He was pushing a bike with a load attached to the back, headed towards town. It had just begun to rain so we ushered him into the car, squeezing four across in the back seat of our pick-up truck.
My immediate reaction was that he had such a kind face. I noticed his warm smile and friendly greetings to the staff. Then he shook my hand and it was just like so many greetings I’ve exchanged here before. I tried to eliminate (or at least delay) my judgment so that I could focus on the Journal interview. It was brief since I had previously met with his wife and learned about his enterprises. After a few laughs and a few more questions, we were shaking hands again and he was back in the rain, pushing his bike.
It was a jarring interview for how totally routine it was. It forced me to wonder how many other genocidaires I’d spoken to, worked with, passed on the street without even realizing it. He was not a man you would pin as a killer. He was free because he had confessed his crimes, his confession was accepted as true by the gacaca court (a court system that has been established to process trials for accused genocidaires on a local level), and he had completed the assigned community service. Now he was back at home with his family, dressed in civilian clothing, and working in his businesses.
This client was the closest I’ve come to the reality that ultimately all genocidaires will be free. He put a face to the abstract impossibility that this country is facing as it frees prisoners from overcrowded prisons and reintroduces them to society. Just down the road from his house is a church in which thousands took refuge as the Genocide began. More than 10,000 people were killed in and around the church between April 10th and April 16th 1994. It’s an eerie juxtaposition.
I have no neat conclusion for this blog entry. I’ve been trying to come up with one for 3 weeks. Instead, I keep adding paragraphs that turn into ramblings but in no way neatly tie up my thoughts. Now, during a week commemorating the fifteenth anniversary of the 1994 Tutsi Genocide I’ve decided that if I wait for a proper conclusion, it will be many many years before I post this. So I’ll end it here, no conclusion, no answers, no neat sum-up and no lesson learned. I end it with more questions than I started with.
Julie Ross is currently a Kiva Fellow at Vision Finance Company in Rwanda. In December she finished her first placement at BRAC Tanzania.
If you’d like to support Rwandese entrepreneurs and help the country on their push towards development, please see their currently fundraising loans or join the lending team.
Entry filed under: Africa, KF5 (Kiva Fellows 5th Class), KF7 (Kiva Fellows 7th Class), Rwanda, Vision Finance Company s.a. (VFC), a partner of World Vision International. Tags: 1994 Tutsi Genocide, Julie Ross, Kiva, Kiva Fellows, microfinance, Rwanda, Vision Finance Company.
1. Odds and ends from the Kiva Fellows blog | Nothing Ventured | 9 December 2011 at 03:27
[...] by the Kiva staff that, in turn, made a deep impression on me. Both are worth your time. Contradictions, Complications, Juxtapositions, and Genocide (Julie Ross, KF7, Rwanda): “A month after that, I discovered that ‘away that day’ was a [...]
2. NYIRINKWAYA Richard Bradock | 17 May 2009 at 08:12
Thank you Julie. I rearly appreciate your hard working during at Kigali Branch.
God bless you so much
3. Gavin | 12 May 2009 at 10:47
Hi Julie,
I too am reading your posts and enjoying them, thank you.
I am going to be coming to Rwanda in the fall for several months and am applying to become a Kiva fellow. The opportunity sounds exciting. I have a few questions which i would be incredibly grateful if you wouldn’t mind taking the time to answer…
For you daily dealings with people are you speaking English? French? Kiswahili?
Can you let me know how a typical day goes for you?
Do you live in shared housing or with a family or rented home…???
Are you able to keep busy with the loan limit you refer to above?
What are the biggest challenges to your job there now?
Do you travel outside Kigali very much?
Is there anything you wish you had done before to prepare for either Tanzania or Rwanda?
Again, i really appreciate your time and any insights.
Kind regards,
Gavin Sword (sword.gavin@gmail.com)
4. Rwanda Information Station #1 « Opportunitas Aequa | 16 April 2009 at 16:46
[...] Click Here [...]
5. Julie Ross | 12 April 2009 at 06:07
Thank you, Midi Berry. I’m glad you enjoy my blogs. It is so gratifying to know that anyone even reads them!
As for why most of Vision Finance Company’s clients are concentrated in Kigali, that is a coincidence more than anything else. VFC has branches throughout the country, and all are trained in how to gather the information necessary to make them Kiva clients. I think that part of the reason why the Kigali branch has been most prolific in completing business profiles up to now is that the head office where we post all Kiva loans to the website, is also in Kigali. This means that the Kigali branch can get Kiva client information to head office for posting faster than any other branches can. Their monthly fundraising limit is often reached before other branches have been able to send the client information. Does that help? I am hopeful that in the future, you’ll be seeing more loans from other parts of the country on the website.
Thanks,
Julie
6. Midi Berry | 11 April 2009 at 13:10
Thanks Julie. I hadn’t realized there’s a monthly limit – I guess I had assumed, from what seemed to me as a lender as a disproportionate representation of some countries over another – that it was first come first served. Vision Finance Co’s clients look very heavily concentrated in Kigali, as with other MFI’s – is there a policy for decentralizing? Your blogs are really great, Julie, and help make a much needed link to facilitate understanding mechanisms at work within Kiva, as well as wider issues relating to micro-lending and MFIs.
7. Julie Ross | 11 April 2009 at 04:11
Thank you all for your feedback and for reading my post. I’m humbled that my writing could have brought a bit of the reality here–as indescribable as I generally find it to be–to your homes.
Midi Berry–there are relatively few loans in Rwanda on Kiva because right now Kiva has only this one partner, Vision Finance Company, in the country. Each microfinance institution partner has a monthly limit that they are allowed to raise on the website so once that amount is raised, there will be no more loans from VFC until the next month. This is certainly not to say that VFC has only the 168 clients for which it has raised funds on Kiva. On the contrary, it serves more than 12,000 clients throughout the country. It merely cannot have all of them funded on Kiva. As you pointed out, there are other microfinance institutions in Rwanda (like Urwego, Banque Populaire, and Amasezerano) but there are plenty of clients to go around. The healthy competition of the industry here seems to be forcing a level of service that is great for all current and future clients. Of course, there are still many people here who have yet to gain access to a loan so VFC and the other microfinance institutions know that they have much more work to do!
Thanks for your comments,
Julie
8. Midi Berry | 10 April 2009 at 08:08
Dear Julie
thank you so much for speaking to issues that are so hard to express.
I’m curious why, since I have been lending, there are so few Kiva loan opportunities in Rwanda and especially to back women. Is it because banks like Urwego and Banque Populaire have already ‘cornered the market’?
9. Xanthi ( KF 5 ) | 9 April 2009 at 16:16
What a powerful post! I read it twice in quick succession to truly absorb it! I am definitely forwarding on to others to read and reflect.
Thanks so much for sharing such difficult yet honest thoughts.
10. Lori Gibson Banducci | 8 April 2009 at 10:28
Thank you Julie, for writing this.
I too am living in an area of the world that has had recent experience with genocide—the government had given it a much more acceptable term- “civil war”. Over 200,000 were murdered—entire villages wiped out.
Guatemala signed its peace accords in 1996. Like you, I’ve been “aware” the entire time I’ve been here, but have found it difficult to broach the subject with many. The government is, finally, starting to track down and prosecute many of those who were involved in carrying out the genocide.
Your piece provided a “human” dimension to all of this—and yes creates more questions than answers.
11. Bill Brick, KF6 | 8 April 2009 at 07:08
Julie, wow – extraordinary post! It not only features your marvelous gift for writing, but also provokes us to examine the chasms that exist in every culture. This one, of course, being far more profound and recent than most. I wonder if true harmony is possible in Rwanda and globally, or if diversity will always plague humanity through conflict and injustice?
You and your storytelling are an inspiration to me Julie, causing me to ponder such questions, and search for hopeful answers. Perhaps naively, I hope triumph can arise from tragedy, and senseless acts indeed, in time, will lead to beneficial purpose. If not, history teaches us nothing.
12. milena08 | 8 April 2009 at 05:10
Amazing post. I’ll be sure to circulate.
13. howard | 8 April 2009 at 04:27
Thank you for shining a light on this uncomfortable corner of human behavior. I also don’t have clean answers about why people act as they do. The most uplifting part of this post is that even without complete understanding, some healing can take place.
Hang in there and know that you are doing a great service for loaner and loanee alike.
14. abbygray | 8 April 2009 at 01:38
it’s always easier to see people as not human in certain circumstances – but it is absolutely imperative that we push ourselves not to resort to that.
you are forcing yourself to live in reality by doing what you’re doing there in Rwanda, cracking open the neat little boxes we put things in when we see them from a distance.
whether or not you can grasp the nature of that reality or draw conclusions from it is not the most important aspect. (besides, any conclusions you draw will probably just turn into more neat little boxes that you’ll have to crack open later on.)
you are challenging yourself – and, through your blog, us – to reexamine, to struggle, ponder, reflect, and redefine our understanding of reality – even if all that means is erasing some lines we had drawn in our subconsciousness. we just have to have the patience and courage to cope with ambiguity.
thanks for the post, and keep fighting the good fight.
15. Unilove | 7 April 2009 at 23:14
Powerfully honest and painfully troubled, with a depth and a clarity that speaks much of the caliber of your soul and the human condition in which you are working…
Carry on, and thank you for sharing with us all that you have…Your post was profoundly affecting…
16. Jan & John | 7 April 2009 at 13:34
Oh my. Thank you. There is hope for this world of ours. One ‘warm smile and friendly greeting’ at a time. jan
17. cory lee | 7 April 2009 at 13:02
i loved this. thanks for posting.
18. dan kv. | 7 April 2009 at 10:55
Thank you, Julie. I had many of the same feelings in Guatemala. The horrors of the civil war are so recent, the participants still walking and sharing the same towns and streets. And I wonder how they can still smile or trust. But they do.
19. Lauren | 7 April 2009 at 10:29
Thank you so much for this incredible post. Your ability to convey the complexity of this issue with true transparency allows us to see how difficult it really is. Amazing.
20. dan k | 7 April 2009 at 09:57
Thanks Julie for sharing this. The ability of the Rwandan people to move on after what happened constantly amazes me.
21. Cynthia McMurry | 7 April 2009 at 09:46
Great post.
22. Greg | 7 April 2009 at 09:07
Thanks Julie, that was an amazing piece of writing. I am glad you did not wait for a neat ending.
Several years ago, I heard Paul Rusesabagina (Hotel Rwanda) speak about the madness that gripped Rwanda during the genocide. Your article gives real insight into how a society can put itself back together and hopefully create something positive in the aftermath.
23. jdatkiva | 7 April 2009 at 06:39
Thank you for sharing this with such humility and openness, Julie. You’ve taken me on the path with you and I appreciate that very much.
24. Stephanie | 7 April 2009 at 04:00
This is such an important post. I am going to circulate it around my family and friend on the 14th.
25. LizO | 7 April 2009 at 03:40
Wow.