The fourth of July is not only a holiday in the U.S., it turns out. In Rwanda, it is Liberation Day, which commemorates the capture of Kigali by the R.P.F. on 4 July 1994. (The Rwandan Patriotic Front is the current governing party, a former rebel movement that fought an ultimately successful campaign against the previous genocidal government of Rwanda. The taking of the capital was not the end of the Genocide—which happened on 18 July when the last elements of the old regime fled into the Congo—but it did mark the beginning of the new administration.)
Liberation Day is the major, celebrated public holiday here that Independence Day is not, and understandably so: it is actually something worth celebrating, in a way representing the end of the bad memory that independence in 1962 began. That said, it is not as enthusiastically celebrated as the Fourth is in America: schools and businesses closed, but I didn’t see a lot of barbecuing going on, and people in our area seemed to just take it as a time to relax.
What did happen was that every village (here referring to the administrative division, not necessarily a rural town) had its own morning celebration.
Actually, quick digression: I have been trying to figure out the structure of Rwanda’s administrative divisions for awhile now. It is confusing, because each level has a Kinyarwanda name that is probably intuitive, but then translated into English in a way that often isn’t. Things are additionally complicated because the administrative map of Rwanda was completely redrawn and restructured some years back to erase old names that were associated with the Genocide. So now, as far as I can tell, here is the deal:Tangent over. Each village had its own Liberation Day celebration. I am told they were all pretty similar: at 9:00 or 9:30 a.m., residents were invited to come to a local venue with seating available. Local officials came, along with some guests of honor, and gave speeches in a patriotic, liberation-minded spirit, and there were drinks and music available.In terms I am more familiar with, provinces are like provinces/states and districts are like counties. Below that, the U.S. has town and municipal governments that might correspond geographically to either cells or sectors, depending on location. The only way we divide so meticulously on lower levels is with postal codes and school districts, I think.
- Rwanda is divided into four provinces (intara, pl. intara): North (Amajyaruguru), South (Amajyepfo), East (Ibusirazuba) and West (Iburengazuba), and also the City of Kigali.
- Each province is divided into districts (umurenge, pl. imirenge). There are 30 of these in total. Kigali has three districts: Nyarugenge (where I live), Gasabo and Kicukiro.
- Each district has sectors (akarere, pl. uturere). There are 416 of these in total. It is a little confusing sometimes, because there is, for example, a Nyarugenge Sector within Nyarugenge District, and both levels have their own offices.
- Each sector has cells (akagari, pl. utugari), of which there are too many to count. Each cell has villages (umudugudu, pl. imidugudu). At least in the city, these low-level divisions are determined by population and often do not correspond to cohesive communities or meaningful geographical areas, and so they are sometimes numbered rather than named. In rural areas, I imagine, it is a bit more convenient in that imidugudu can actually correspond with individual towns.
In our village, the venue was a nearby guesthouse that had set up a tent on its lawn with about 65 chairs under it. People trickled in, and by the time the event got going attendance was probably 45 or 50. The event started with a prayer and some words from a guy moderating who introduced the guests: the village executive, a pastor, some government official whose function I missed, a police captain and a lieutenant from the Rwandan Defense Forces.
Most of these guests then got up and spoke; they said things that could be interpreted either as being pro-government rhetoric or encouraging patriotic messages. They were probably intended to be both, and I have to say it kind of worked. I took some notes about what they said:
- Intaambara na jenoside ni ibiintu bibiri bitaandukányê. “War and genocide are two different things.” Being here, one notices that in print and especially in official documents, the Genocide is referred to as Jenoside Yakoréwê Abatuutsi, “The Genocide Committed Against the Tutsi.” This is a response to recent claims that, because Hutus killed Tutsis and Tutsis killed Hutus, there was Genocide in both directions. This is patently false. As the lieutenant pointed out in his speech, the admittedly Tutsi-dominated R.P.F. was fighting a war against the admittedly Hutu-dominated Rwandan government, but they were fighting a war fair and square that targeted soldiers and was aimed at liberating the country. The Genocide, on the other hand, was committed by a government and state-arranged militias, and it targeted Tutsis based on their ethnicity, rebels or otherwise. The idea that these two events are equatable is very troubling to many Rwandans, and the government is keen on refuting it.
- Iyo umútéekano wábûjwe … ntaa máhôro háábaye. “When laws failed, there was no peace.” Fairly self-explanatory, but I believe it was used as a justification for the R.P.F.’s method of governance, which emphasizes strict supervision for the sake of reconciliation and development.
- Tugoomba kubátóoza (umútéekano). “We have to acclimate you (to the rule of law).” My translation might sound a little sinister (and might be slightly off). The idea, though, is that Rwandans spent a long time living in a society where the government was incapable or unwilling to do things like provide for the common defense and promote the general welfare, and it is important for people to become accustomed to a new kind of government that accomplishes these things through the rule of law.
- Duharanire kwíigira. “Let us strive for self-reliance.” This is probably the most prominent slogan of the government of Rwanda, and it says a lot more than it seems to. There is a feeling, I think, that Rwanda was marginalized in its early years of independence, and this was part of the reason the Genocide was as bad as it was: there was more discontentment among the disadvantaged than there might have been, and other countries did not have the interests in Rwanda that might have caused them to intervene. Furthermore, in the aftermath of the Genocide, so many of the country’s greatest accomplishments have been funded by foreign aid. The idea, I believe, is that it is time to try to move past that, which means convincing Rwandans that they have worth and that they do not need to rely on help from abroad to be successful—especially after certain countries have made principled reductions in their donations. This ties in with the previous point because ripping the bandage off might not be pleasant for everyone, but the state feels a responsibility to do its people that service.
- Dukomeze túubahe amahaânga. “Let us continue to respect foreign countries.” Despite the self-sufficiency rhetoric, Rwandans recognize that foreigners—with their development aid, business investments and tourist dollars—have a lot to contribute to building the new Rwanda, and alienating them is not on the agenda.
- Twáátaangiye kuri zero. “We started from nothing.” At the end of the Genocide, Rwanda was in ruins: the poorest country in the world, with much of its population dead and many more in exile. The government is partially patting itself on the back here, but also reminding citizens of all they have accomplished in 19 years.
- Buri muunti wéese, ni umuûnsi we, ni umuûnsi w’ííbyíishiimo. “Each and every person, this is his day, this is a day of joy.” Need I explain? Liberation Day commemorates the end of a terrible time in Rwanda’s history, and the dawn of a new era that, though not without hitches, has brought many wonderful things.
At one point, the person speaking paused and signaled for the radio to be turned on. We all then listened to President Kagame give his Liberation Day remarks; they also took a congratulatory, optimistic tone: “Every Rwandan has worth .… Let us protect what we have built .… and let us continue to build in uncommon ways.” After, there was music and dancing, and drinks were passed around.
Rwandans have an interesting way of dancing. The default, for both men and women, seems to be to hold the arms out and then kind of ripple them, with leg movements mainly just to support that. I am really not doing it justice with that description, sorry. Also, the default clapping pattern to music (which I have heard multiple times now) is to clap, time signature permitting, on beats 1, 2 and 4 of 6. I do not know whether there is anything really interesting about that, but it is different from what I am used to.
My other main thought about the event is that I was pretty proud of myself for being able to understand so much of it. Admittedly, people giving speeches are careful to enunciate well, and Kagame spoke very slowly and clearly. Still, some of the others spoke fairly quickly. I did not by any means get all of it, but I heard a pretty substantial portion, and I think all of the major ideas. I still cannot generally understand colloquial speech, but this was my first big indicator in awhile that my comprehension is improving.
In the evening, I watched a Kinyarwanda dub of “Anaconda Hunters: The Search for the Blood Orchid” with my hosts. It was kind of hilarious. The dub was really just one guy doing all of the parts, and also kind of announcing the film like it was a football game. He would selectively translate lines when he thought they were important, and a lot of the time he would just repeat the line in English. (American accents, I have learned, are very hard for Rwandans to understand, even if they are proficient English-speakers, so this might actually have been helpful.) Whenever there was some knowledge that could be fairly assumed for Americans but not for Rwandans, he would very enthusiastically clarify.
So the whole thing was kind of surreal: I would hear about half of the original lines, and the other half were taped over with really fast talking that I could not understand. Luckily, the plot was very shallow so I did not feel like I was missing much. In fact, the movie was really dumb and I could not say why anyone went to the trouble of dubbing it—and yet, my Rwandan friends thought it was great. I remain mystified.
New Vocabulary Words for the Day
- gútóoza: to make accustomed to
- kúbûhoora: to liberate oneself
- urúgâamba: struggle, fight
- úbwíigenge: independence
- intego: ambition
- ingufu: strength
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