Wed Oct 14 - Millenium Village Project & Reconciliation Village

Wednesday morning at 9 am our bus arrives for the visit to the Millenium Village Project at Nyamata in Bugesera District in the Eastern Province.  Our guide, Florence Kabanyana, is knowledgeable and vivacious. 

This was one of the poorest areas in Rwanda. The International airport will be rebuilt here in the next few years, and as we enter the area we see much development - new sidewalks being built in villages along the highway, new businesses opening.

We cross the wide river which in 1994 was clogged with bodies, drifting all the way to Lake Victoria. Florence remembers in Tanzania being asked by other children why they were being made to eat her people - fish were being caught with parts of bodies in them.  "You are poisoning us with your people!", went the taunts.  People stopped eating fish from the lake during that time.

We are encouraged to ask any (& as many) questions as we wish while we are on the tour, of Florence or of our local guides.  We pick up our local guide, Sylverian, at the offices and after a brief introduction to the MVP initiatives and local goals/progress, we walk down the road to the Memorial.

Ntarama Church.  Our guide, Charles Mugabe, is one of 7 survivors from the 11,000 slaughtered here during the Genocide.  He was one of the 6,500 in the church.  He greets Florence and Sylverian warmly; he and Sylverian walk with arms around one another towards the church.

A gentle giant, Charles quietly recounts his memories of that time.  The people here were held and tortured for days.  Children under five were dashed against the wall in one area, and the walls are still stained.  The tin roof, a diarama to the sky with pinpricks of light from the bullet & shrapnel holes, is stained with brains & blood.  The clothing and personal effects of the dead cover the simple wooden benches which line the church.   The stories of torture and brutality are shocking, and Charles remains calm when a member of the group breaks down.

I ask him how it makes him feel when visitors break down and grieve here in front of him.  He tells us, in translation from Florence, that he is honoured.  He may cry later, sometimes, but not here.  Not now. 

Charles leads us to a crumbling brick part of the wall and shows us the hole where he hid his head, covered in blood, pretending to be already dead.

He leads us to the burial areas, and shows us the caskets containing his family.  Unlike many, he knows where the bodies of his family are.

Gord sits alone near the memorial.  Charles tells him he looks like Jesus.  He is surprised.

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We visit a local farmer who invites us into his home.  We ask him questions about his life, his farm.  It is my first time in one of these homes we have seen dotted along the road - it is cool, with simple pictures on the walls and comfortable furniture. 

He shows us how to harvest Cassava, growing amongst his banana trees.  Sylverian, who wants to one day have his own farm, peels a piece of Cassava and cuts it for us into pieces.  We munch Cassava in the field.  We learn of the new varieties introduced to the area to increase productivity - mangoes which mature in 6 months rather than 3 years. 

When we leave he tells us that before the Genocide, one was not permitted to talk to Umuzungus.  Now his neighbors are envious that he always has guests, visitors formerly forbidden.

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We visit a local school.  The teacher-student ratio is approximately 77 students per teacher.  We visit the nursery, where children learn to graft orange trees onto local lemon trees, which are hardier.  "The strength of the lemon supports the fruit of the orange" - Rick Banville in a rather poetic aside.

They take this knowledge home to their families.  They learn to garden in the school plot, which also ensures that they have fresh vegetables every day for lunch.  They learn irrigation methods.  The learn hygene while helping to prepare meals and while cleaning their lunch dishes and classrooms.  

We visit a classroom where the boys have been making bee hives from banana leaves & wood.
The boys are whispering among themselves about Gord.

"They say you look like Jesus", says Florence. 
Gord looks flummoxed and a bit uncomfortable, but he is in the classroom longest, talking to the children.

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We stop by an artisans village and learn to weave baskets, sitting on the ground with the ladies, children all around us.  Ross is surprisingly talented at this - the ladies make much of him.

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We visit the Reconciliation Village.  Everyone is gathered, including the people we have met that day.  Children are dancing in the dirt square when we arrive.  We are directed to a row of comfortable chairs beneath an awning. 

In this village, perpetrators & survivors live side by side, having built together the bricks for their homes.

There is an introduction and history by a local leader, Anastase Barahira. 

Then, Tasiyani Nkundiye gets up to speak - he is a perpetrator who confessed and served 8 years in jail, then returned home to this village.  He speaks of learning to live with those he wronged, in trust and cooperation. 

A survivor speaks next, Cecile Mukagasana.  She speaks of the struggle for forgiveness within herself.  Both speak in quiet, factual tones.  They answer questions simply.  I am amazed at their bravery and commitment to reconciliation. After speaking, they sit closely side-by-side on a bench.

There is more dancing with the children, then we gird ourselves and offer, through Florence, to sing songs from Goodness.  We are surrounded by the villagers, a tight circle of curiosity 6 rows deep.  They respond with surprise and delight,  the women from the Artisans Village reaching out to caress or squeeze an arm with big smiles. 

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We return to Kigali after exchanging of emails with Florence. It has been a full day already, but there is another Festival function this evening, organized by Jen Capraru of Theatre Isoko.  A gathering of international theatre & film practitioners.  Again, we are surrounded by articulate artists with similar goals & struggles from all round the world.   Avid discussion which ends too soon. 

Home to bed.  To pack.

We leave tomorrow.


Post by Tara