It is called a demobilisation centre but a better term for what takes place inside the corrugated tin classrooms of Mutobo may be genocide rehab. Nine years after the slaughter, Rwanda’s killers are coming home and this centre in Ruhengeri province in the north-west of the country is their first stop.
Drizzle and damp make it a humid morning but the 273 Hutus gathered in one of the giant classrooms are in good form. The history lesson has just concluded and before the civics teacher starts there is time for singing and dancing.
In bare feet and battered boots they leap and twirl and stamp the earth floor while belting out a traditional tune with new lyrics. ”Thank you, oh Rwanda, for bringing us out of the forest, out of the horror, for saving us,” they sing.
Survivors of the genocide voiced the same sentiments in 1994 when a Tutsi-led army swept the extremist Hutu regime from power and its murderous soldiers from the country.
Now it is the killers’ turn to emerge from hiding and give thanks. Rwanda’s Tutsi president, Paul Kagame, who faces an election next week, has embarked on a policy of reconciliation and reintegration, promising freedom and security to Hutus who return from exile.
For many survivors it is painful to see the killers back, mingling in the market, worshipping at church. But driving the government’s policy is hardheaded calculation. At least 25 000 Hutu rebels who roam eastern Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) in the pay of Kagame’s opponents could resume attacks inside Rwanda. Having invaded DRC but failed to capture or kill those fighters, the government believes it is wiser to woo them.
At stake is not only Rwanda’s security but peace in DRC. Take away the Hutu rebels and there is one group less to prolong DRC’s messy conflict.
The wooing is not easy because those still in the forest tend to be those implicated in the 1994 massacres in which 800 000 Tutsis and moderate Hutus were killed. The less guilty have already returned.
Isolated and suspicious, the rebels fear arrest and execution the moment they set foot in Rwanda. Many do not hear the UN’s radio broadcasts assuring safety, and those who do are deterred from returning by commanders who want to stay in DRC.
Rwandan officials also accuse DRC’s president, Joseph Kabila, of breaching a peace accord by secretly encouraging the Hutus — a proxy force for his government — to stay.
More than 3 000 have returned since March last year, far fewer than expected. ”It is disappointing, but we think it is just a matter of time before the rest follow,” said Faustin Rwigema, of the Rwandan demobilisation and reintegration commission. An official for the UN’s mission in DRC said those who cross the border are scared to death, but they come because after nine years they have had enough of the forest.
The Guardian accompanied two men who had just emerged to the demobilisation centre at Mutobo. Driving through Kigali, the capital, their eyes widened: ”All these fancy buildings, this road, they are new,” said one. The green, hilly countryside was another revelation: farmers tending fields, roads busy with cyclists and trucks, freshly-painted signs for tourists, a country at peace. The last time the men men saw the hills they were in flames, when mobs tried to smoke out Tutsis sheltering in woods.
Mutobo held another pleasant surprise: a reunion with friends and comrades from DRC. The centre hosts the returnees for 45 to 60 days after which they are given cash, blankets, kitchenware and sent home. The idea is to orientate and prepare for civilian life.
No effort is made to ascertain guilt in the hope of encouraging more to follow. ”We don’t ask what they did in 1994. Those questions they can face when they return to their villages and meet neighbours,” said Frank Musonera, the centre manager.
After breakfast the guests — they are not called inmates — are instructed on history (pre-colonial, colonial and what happened while they were away), human rights, gender relations, justice and law, and practical things like starting a business. ”It is not brainwashing. It is about how to behave and cope in today’s Rwanda,” said Sam Barigye, a sensitisation officer.
”We like it here,” said Jean-Pierre Nzabahimana (27). ”Before we had the bad ideology, now we are learning how things really are.” Others echoed that. Sincerity was difficult to gauge: no one at Mutobo admits to participating in the genocide.
In theory those returnees guilty of crimes will face a traditional justice known as gacaca, a cross between a community and formal court which has been revived to deal with low-level killers. Leaders could still end up at the UN tribunal in Arusha, Tanzania.
Earlier this year the government freed 25 000 prisoners mostly held for genocide in response to overcrowding and slow trials. Among them was Abudurikalimu Nzabonimpaye (29) who admits to slaughtering Tutsis. Over a Coke and kebab, he said he was sorry for what he did.
Sitting a few feet away, Anastaste Ngarambe (49) said he had forgiven Nzabonimpaye for killing six members of his family. ”He is behaving well now,” said Ngarambe. ”I have shaken his hand. The government said it would not accept revenge.” – Guardian Unlimited Â