Chris McGreal in Rubava
DJUMA LIBURAKARYO is proud of his eight doors. It is the first thing he points out about his mud-and-stone house halfway up a hill in a banana grove.
But he cannot pass through them. Strangers slam the front door in his face and so Liburakaryo is confined to an old scout camp.
The Hutu cobbler is back in Rwanda for the first time for two years after joining the exodus of about 500 000 refugees driven from their camps in Zaire last week.
“I went straight to my house and found others in it,” he said. “They refused to let me in. They told me I should have to wait and I should go to the authorities. I don’t even know who they are in my house. I’ve never seen them before.”
The new tenants are Paul Mukongomani and his family, Tutsis who would also like to go home. But their house was destroyed by Hutus after the genocide that engulfed Rwanda in 1994.
The Rwandan government has promised the Hutu refugees that they may return to their property. The present occupants have 15 days to quit and are allowed to harvest the crops they planted.
But many of those who took over the houses when the refugees fled are Tutsis whose homes were destroyed during the genocide, sometimes by the very people who are now returning. With hundreds of thousands of people suddenly seeking their homes the original victims risk being penalised a second time.
Mukongomani’s family fled to Zaire in 1959 during the first purges of Tutsis in Rwanda. When the extremist militias and Hutu army followed in their footsteps two years ago Tutsis like Mukongomani were the target of a new bout of killing. They headed back to Rwanda.
“We had nowhere to live so the local authorities told us to come to this house because it was empty. I admit it belongs to him,” Mukongomani said, gesturing at Liburakaryo. “But he is not allowed to move back in without permission.”
Rwanda’s vice-president, Major-General Paul Kagame, the real power in the land, has appealed for foreign aid to be diverted to building new houses in Rwanda.
“We respect the ownership of property and we are trying to put in place mechanisms to see how to deal with this problem. If we throw people out of houses it is also our responsibility to deal with the problem,” he said.
Liburakaryo stands quietly outside his home. Mukongomani, a machete in his hand, eyes the owner.
“We are not angry and there’s no hatred towards anyone. We wish them no ill,” Mukongomani said.
For his part, Liburakaryo is not among those refugees who deny the genocide. He says he hid five Tutsis in his banana grove. It is an unusual acknowledgement that a slaughter happened, one which would never have been allowed in the camps.