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The Democratic Republic of Congo is tortured by a culture of violence that spawns child soldiers, murderous militia and systematic rape. Casey Kauffman sent this e-card from amid the suffering. His account was first published in Guardian Unlimited.
The Kivus, DRC - The chaos of eastern Congo is particularly apparent when you cross into south Kivu from Rwanda.
We travel for five hours from Kigali to the shore of Lake Kivu, which divides Rwanda from the Democratic Republic of Congo.
Along the way, we are amazed by the clean and smoothly paved roads, the tiled roofs and the orderly villages, and the constant mobile phone network coverage even five hours outside the capital city.
BROKEN ROADS AND CRIPPLED BEGGARS
Ten metres inside Congo, we find broken roads, crippled beggars, and an old and sceptical immigration official who jots down our names in a sweaty, yellow register and stamps our entry.
We’re late.
We go directly to WFP's sub-office in Bukavu, where we finally meet our colleagues after so many emails.
SYSTEMATIC VIOLENCE
Ndeley says he wants to take us directly to a hospital that receives women who have been raped, because it is the best way to immediately understand the scale of systematic violence in eastern Congo.
We interview the doctor who brought his work and family back from a life in Europe to help his people.
He moved back to Bukavu in 2003 and is overwhelmed with work. He needs equipment, staff, and money; WFP provides food, but he needs much more.
3-YEAR-OLDS, 75-YEAR-OLDS
The doctor goes on to explain the technical aspects of his job but I stop paying attention after he tells us that his patients range from a three-year-old girl to a 75-year-old woman.
I had read that systematic rape has nothing to do with sex and everything to do with control, dehumanization, and groups asserting power over each other, but raping a three-year-old and a 75-year-old seems beyond comprehension.
TODDLERS, MOTHERS, DAUGHTERS
We follow the doctor into a yellow-lit room with 30 old hospital beds and 100 women and girls. Yes, the patients are toddlers, old women, mothers and daughters.
Some women have numbers hanging around their necks. For a brief moment, warm smiles crack the tired and expressionless faces when the doctor explains who we are and why we are here.
After 20 minutes of gently shoving my camera into people's faces, we say goodbye. Unexpectedly, the whole room begins to clap as we leave. A little embarrassed, I see a couple of women eating food in the corner.
SURGERY AND JUSTICE
Yes, the food enables the hospital to survive and provides an incentive for the women to seek refuge there. But what these women really need is first surgery, then justice.
Human Rights Watch reports that more than 10,000 women have been raped in eastern Congo. Not one man has been charged.
VIOLENCE AND VOLATILITY
We get up early the next morning to visit Walungu, a green, mountainous region southwest of Bukavu.
Although DRC’s second civil war ended in 2002, the eastern region remains violent and volatile. One of eastern Congo’s many frontlines is here in Walungu, where 12 people were kidnapped four days before our arrival.
The Forces Democratiques de Liberation du Rwanda (FDLR) hide beyond the frontline deep in the green hills. Most of the FDLR members are Rwandan Hutus who grew up in exile after fleeing the Tutsi-led army that chased out the genocidal Interhamwe militia after their defeat in 1994.
NEGOTIATION OR FORCE
The FDLR says it seeks to return to Rwanda by negotiation or force.
The Rwandan government, pointing to the genocidal origins of the group, claims the FDLR poses a threat to Rwandan national security, and uses the group's presence as a rationale for military incursions into the area.
The Congolese government says Rwanda is more interested in the region’s mineral wealth than in containing the anti-government militias.
CULTURE OF VIOLENCE
The militias have grown up in a culture of violence and survive as armed bands. They exercise control over local Congolese communities and sometimes commit abuses such as killings, rape, and looting.
Entire communities have had to leave their villages and livelihoods to live in camps supported by aid agencies and protected by the UN peacekeeping force known as MONUC.
SEEDS IN THE GROUND
Since MONUC received a clearer mandate to use force as it patrols the hills, many people have started to go back to their villages during the day, to try to get back on their feet and get some seeds into the ground before another planting season goes by.
But the nights are still unsafe. At around 17.00, we meet groups of people, sometimes hundreds strong, walking to designated camps and other areas that are considered safe.
MR BLACK
At the Walungu IDP camp we meet a man who calls himself Mr. Black.
After learning that we work for the organisation that brings food to the camps, Mr. Black apologises and tells us how embarrassed he is that he has to depend on other people’s help, given the autonomous and independent nature of his tribe.
But he can’t go back to farm in his village; it’s just too dangerous.
MOZAIC DISEASE
As if the struggles of daily life and the risks involved in delivering aid aren’t enough, humanitarian agencies are very concerned by the spread of the Mozaic disease, which attacks the root of the cassava plant, the region’s main food staple.
In south Kivu, aid organisations are already under-resourced and struggling with day-to-day insecurity.
If the Mozaic disease continues to spread throughout Walungu - the main food-producing region for Bukavu and other urban areas - there could be a major food crisis to contend with as well.
CIVIL WAR AND CONTINUOUS FIGHTING
Years of civil war and merciless militiamen – that’s what we keep hearing.
The militia groups in DRC are based on language or ethnicity, but motivated by the struggle for land and resources.
Foreign interests seeking a piece of Congo's pie fuel the fighting and arm the militias. The stakes are high and there is a lot of money to be made.
BRASSAGE
That’s why the “brassage” seems an unusually hopeful process. We decide to go and check it out, and head south from Bukavu towards Lake Tanganyika.
The brassage is the process of assimilating militiamen into a single national army. Militia groups who had been enemies come together and cooperate in working towards national unity.
The Congolese consider the brassage to be one of the most important steps in moving towards stable society and normality.
WASTELAND
After receiving an official briefing from a determined military commander, we are given the opportunity to venture into the wasteland where the regular foot soldiers live.
The conditions are awful. In the west we talk about the “morale of the troops.” Well, worrying about the troops' mood seems like a pretty abstract privilege on the Rusizi plain of South Kivu.
The former militiamen walk around half-dressed but fully armed, hungry, in the midst of a cholera outbreak.
CURIOUS TEENAGE SOLDIERS
Amid the burned and abandoned buildings, curious teenage soldiers crawl out to laugh at us and then tell us how they feel. As they talk they get more riled up.
They feel neglected; some by the government, others by the militia commanders, now involved in political manoeuvring to determine what riches DRC’s new political arrangement will bring them.
All of them feel neglected by life and point to their precarious living conditions.
DEMOBILISATION AND DISARMAMENT
We go on to Goma to see how WFP is supporting the demobilisation and disarmament process going on.
Child soldiers are being given the chance to attend a 24-hour care centre run by a local non-governmental organisation (NGO) where child soldiers can begin to assimilate back into normal life.
This is an incredibly important project given the example of violence and force so many kids in eastern Congo grow up with.
BEDS AND FOOD
The Congolese NGO provides the space and the beds and WFP provides food for the 200 children; every day, three times a day.
We arrive just after lunch has started. The kids are friendly but not silly and they don’t miss a beat. You can’t fool these guys, not even with a hidden camera shot.
The comfort of a bed, three meals a day, and the hope of some educational or professional training is what keeps these kids in the centre.
ASPIRATIONS
We talk to Moke (not his real name) about his aspirations and his past. One of the older children, he is planning to leave the centre the following week.
He wants to go out into the world and work as a driver, as he likes transport and mechanics.
He talks openly about his past, although he doesn’t want his name or face recorded. He has been forcibly involved in militia activity since 1997, when he was nine years old.
PRIESTS AND NUNS
He tells us that once, during the conflict with Rwanda, his group of peers was ordered into a Christian mission to beat and rape the priests and nuns.
I react the same way I had when I heard that the rape victims at the Bukavu hospital ranged from three-year-olds to 75-year-olds… I just can’t get my head around it.
I truly can’t imagine beating a nun’s head in at the age of 11. And it brings home to me what a very long, hard fight DRC faces in its struggle for stability and normality. |