Chris McGreal reports from Kibungo prison=20 on the desperate hopes of Hutus facing the=20 firing squad for their part in the genocide=20
IF anything shakes Deogratias Bizimana’s=20 misplaced belief that he will live to see=20 his 39th birthday, it is the business with=20 his wife.
Leaning against the wall of Kibungo=20 prison’s condemned cell, the former medical=20 assistant tries to explain why she never=20 came to his trial.
“I didn’t see her in court. If she was=20 there she didn’t say anything. It must have=20 been too far for her to come,” says the=20 chubby prisoner in baggy cotton trousers=20 and flip-flops.
Too far to offer the testimony which he=20 says could save his life? “It’s been very=20 difficult for her because we used to have a=20 good relationship,” he adds.
Bizimana was the first Hutu sentenced to=20 death for the 1994 genocide of Rwanda’s=20 Tutsis.
He was convicted of killing 20 people and=20 ordering the massacre of thousands more.=20 Rwandan courts have condemned seven other=20 men to the firing squad for their role in=20 leading the slaughter or showing particular=20 brutality and cruelty while killing.
He shares the condemned cell with Egide=20 Gatanazi. Death row is a corridor between=20 towering walls under an open sky.
At night the two men are crammed into a=20 tiny room, sleeping on green plastic sheets=20 with their few possessions – mainly worn=20 clothes – packed against the walls.
Gatanazi (43), a former administrator, is=20 sullen. He says little unless prodded.
Perhaps he realises that after the=20 devastating evidence of witnesses who=20 described the two men’s contribution to the=20 murder of 15 000 people in the Kibungo=20 region, his companion’s hope of survival is=20 mere delusion.
But Bizimana is a desperate man. Driven by=20 nervous energy, he waves pages of notes=20 comprising his long assessment of the trial=20 (a show), his prospects for appeal (they=20 cannot ignore the evidence) and the=20 witnesses (peasants and liars).
His trial took just four-and-a-half hours.=20 He had no defence lawyer. He wanted to=20 speak French – an official language in=20 Rwanda – but the judge insisted he speak=20 Kinyarwanda. The 500 or so spectators were=20 openly partisan, jeering at him and=20 applauding the prosecutors and judges.
“I think they invited people into court to=20 intimidate me. They even transmitted it on=20 the radio so everyone could hear,” he says.=20 “It was an arrangement between the=20 government prosecutors and the witnesses to=20 accuse me. All the witnesses are lying.=20 They were not sure of what they were=20 saying. It’s not possible for one man to=20 kill in so many different ways.”
Eugene Ndongozi – with machete wounds=20 carved across his head – was only too=20 certain of what he told the court.=20 “Bizimana broke into my house and killed my=20 family, and he thought he had killed me.”
The accused man did not help his own case=20 when he responded: “If he really saw me and=20 I saw him, then I would have killed him, so=20 it is not true.”
Bizimana insists that none of the=20 accusations against him is true, because he=20 is a Hutu married to a Tutsi.
“I didn’t participate in the genocide,=20 because I was staying at home, just taking=20 care of my family, because my wife is a=20 Tutsi and my wife’s sisters are Tutsis. I=20 was protecting them.”
It would be a convincing alibi, if so many=20 Hutu men married to Tutsis had not taken to=20 genocide with enthusiasm, even killing=20 their wives in some cases, and if=20 Bizimana’s wife was willing to corroborate=20 it.
But she is nowhere to be seen. She failed=20 to attend the trial and has visited her=20 husband in prison only once since his=20 arrest more than a year ago.
“I don’t know why she hasn’t come. It’s too=20 far. There’s a lot of intimidation,”=20 Bizimana says.
He realises that she will not save him, so=20 he is putting his faith in an appeal based=20 on reams of paper and complex arguments=20 about the motives of his accusers.
Few outside Kibungo prison expect it to=20 succeed. If nothing else, it would be an=20 embarrassment to the government if its=20 first genocide convictions were overturned.
With the prospect of a firing squad=20 looming, Gatanazi is defiant. “We are not=20 afraid of anything,” he claims.
But he is not speaking for his companion in=20 death.
“I’m sure, 100%, that they will find me=20 innocent on appeal. They won’t shoot me,”=20 says Bizimana.
It was as much a question as a statement.