28/03/19-03/04/19
Country: Rwanda
Distance: 126 km / 78 mi
Elevation: 1,294 m / 4,245 ft
Warning: This blog post is a heavy one. It’s about genocide.
As well as hitting one whole year on the road, this week also marks the first hot shower we’ve had in about six weeks – and the first time I’ve washed my hair with shampoo in about three. We had this taste of luxury while staying with Richard in Kigali, the capital of Rwanda.
Richard is the uncle of my friend Chris’ girlfriend. Actually Dan, Chris and I worked together at the same ad agency once upon a time in London. I mentioned I was a copywriter a couple of weeks ago, well traditional creative teams in advertising are made up of a copywriter and art director – Chris was my art director. I digress… Richard is working on Kigali’s new international airport and was more than happy to have us stay for a few days, and we were more than happy to oblige.
We were well looked after by Richard. He treated us to coffee and cake and beer and pizza. He was full of interesting stories and wise words. It was an absolute pleasure to spend time with him.
While staying in Kigali, we visited the Genocide Memorial, which commemorates the 1994 Rwandan Genocide. The Rwandan Genocide saw the mass slaughter of Tutsis by their fellow Hutus during 100 days of killing. The Hutus wiped out 70% of the Tutsi population. Estimations put the total dead between 800,000 and 1,000,000 – 250,000 of which are buried at the memorial. The genocide was stopped after the Tutsi-backed and heavily armed Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF) took control of Kigali. The RPF was led by Paul Kagame, who has served as Vice President then President ever since.
There are a few things worth pointing out about the Rwandan Genocide. Firstly, Hutus and Tutsis are both Rwandan tribes, but distinctions between the two started when German colonists moved in in 1897 and favoured the Tutsis, placed them in governing roles. That division widened when the Belgians took over in 1926 and became more direct rulers of Rwanda. Not only did the preferential treatment of Tutsis continue, the Belgians introduced identity cards, which clearly stated what tribe you belonged to. It was after World War II that serous cracks started to show, as the disenfranchised Hutu started an anti-Tutsi movement, which was (bizarrely) subsequently backed by the Belgians, who went on to replace most of the Tutsi chiefs. In 1962, the Tutsi king was ousted, a Hutu-dominated republic created, and the country gained independence. But that did nothing to ease the tensions between the two tribes. The conflict continued to grow over the years until 6 April 1994, when a plane carrying Hutu leaders was shot down, and the genocide began. No one claimed responsibility for shooting down the plane.
Although led by the Hutu government, murder was encouraged among and committed by everyday Hutus. Neighbours killed neighbours, friends killed friends, and family even killed family. Men weren’t the only target; women were raped and children murdered. More than twenty Rwandan news outlets incited hatred towards Tutsis, particularly on radio, dehumanising them with names such as cockroaches. This bares a scary similarity to certain UK newspapers and their treatment of muslims, refugees and immigrants… Controversially the French were heavily involved in training and equipping the Hutu army, which led the genocide. The French government has blocked access to files from that time; they’re involvement is very hush, hush. The world stood back and did nothing during the genocide – the UN even withdrew soldiers, completely abandoning the Tutsis. As I mentioned, the genocide was eventually stopped by the RPF. It’s now illegal in Rwanda to discuss what tribe you belong to – everyone is known as Rwandan.
The Kigali Genocide Memorial is beautifully and respectfully done and well worth a visit. 7 April 2019 actually marks the 25th anniversary of the start of the hundred days of killing. It’s crazy to think it only happened 25 years ago – Dan and I were five! Rwandans are still coming to terms with the genocide and it’s long-lasting affects – women who were raped now have adult children and families are still grieving their losses – but it’s astonishing how far the country has come in such a short space of time, after such a horrific event in their history.
You’d like to think that it would only take one genocide for the world to learn never to do it again. But that just didn’t happen – far from it. There’s a long list, with the more well-known genocides obviously being The Holocaust 1941-45 and The Cambodian Genocide 1975-79. In fact the British are guilty of it. Described as the only true genocide in British colonial history, British settlers obliterated all native aboriginals of Tasmania – a small Australian state island south east of the mainland. During The Tasmanian Genocide 1826-29, the British completely wiped out all 6,000 inhabitants. It became somewhat of a game, for want of a better word, with organised patrol teams sent out to murder and cash rewards offered for Tasman heads. It’s a disgusting and largely ignored part of our history, but as we’re learning, the bad stuff tends to be.
Sadly the Rwandan Genocide, despite only being in the 90s, is not even the most recent. On the 25 August 2017 Myanmar military forces and local Buddhist extremists started systematically attacking, raping and murdering Myanmar’s minority Rohingya muslims, as well as looting and burning down their villages. With no country stepping in to stop the atrocities or prosecute Myanmar’s leaders, the crisis is still ongoing today. The United Nations has called it genocide, which is a term they do not use lightly. That’s why we decided not to cycle through Myanmar, which was our original route before Africa.
We are completely dumbfounded at how people see themselves as better than another person. No matter your race, religion, nationality, sexuality, skin colour, we are all human. You are no better than a gay man or Syrian refugee or Muslim or black person. The only difference is luck. You’re just lucky that you’ve never had to escape a war zone, genocide, or regime – or lost your family to such atrocities.
Told you it was a heavy one. We needed to sit down, have a Coke and take a moment after our visit to the memorial. It weighed on our minds for the rest of the day. With no appropriate segue back to our trip, I’m just going to do it.
After leaving Richard’s we had planned, as I’ve mentioned previously, to tackle to Congo Nile Trail and we even got a day’s ride closer to the start. But after checking time and money, which we haven’t had to do for a long while, we reconsidered our decision and actually chose to head instead to Tanzania. With just over six weeks before we meet Dan’s family on Zanzibar, time would have been too tight. We priced up bussing to the start of the trail and bussing back from the end, but since we had to book four seats for the bikes, as well as two for us, it was pricey. Too pricey, considering we’re now coming to the end of our Africa budget. So we cut our losses, turned around and started making our way to country number seventeen: Tanzania.
Note: As you’re probably aware this blog post is rather late, so there’s actually another one on its way. That’s double reading for you this week. Don’t hate me cos am lazy.
