On Lemonade

“How is Burundi?”  

“Oy.”

“Is it safe? Is it calm?"

“That depends greatly on the neighborhood, and your definition of calm.”

“What do you think will happen?” 

“Hold on, let me go get my Magic 8 Ball.”

How is Burundi?

For weeks, Burundi waited in a strange purgatory for elections or a rebellion. Neither really happened. Turnout for elections was spotty, in no small part due to a boycott by the opposition. Some precincts had only a few people show up - like, less than I can count on my fingers and toes – but, many areas in the countryside had a higher turnout than the capital city.

Some people voted and then tried to get the ink off their fingers so their neighbors wouldn’t know. Others were afraid not to vote. It all depends on where you live, and whom you work for, and all the rest. 

Abstention in elections is often associated with apathy, a lack of morals, and pot smoking hippies; however, abstention in these elections represented the failure of the state to ensure credible elections. Due to their principles, their fear, or the pressure of their communities, many people did not go to the polls, and their absence brought to light a series of paradoxes - a popular vote missing much of the population, free and fair elections without security, democracy without liberty. The opposition leaders called it an “electoral masquerade”... an “electoral comedy”. 

Citizens weren’t the only ones abstaining from participating in elections on Monday. The African Union announced they would not be observing, along with basically everyone else except for MENUB (UN Electoral Observation Mission in Burundi). MENUB decided to monitor and then, with all evidence in hand, declare the elections were definitely not free and fair. 

This is the least funny comedy I have ever seen.

Is it safe? Is it calm?

 Wednesday was Independence Day. While a parade took place in the center of town, police raided the neighborhood of Mutakura. The clash ended with several wounded, and several killed. Then, the battle for the narrative began.

Let me break it down for you, in case it’s unclear:

If you are pro-ruling-party, all opposition are guilty by association, they are “insurgents” and they are “armed” and they are risking the stability of the nation to get what they want.

If you are anti-ruling-party, government supporters are guilty by association, they are “Imbonerakure”, they are police, they are armed and they are risking the stability of the nation to get what they want. 

If someone you identify with dies, they are a brother/mother, a friend, a person who was just on their way to work/home, they were persecuted for their beliefs, and they have a family who will miss them.

If you are not sympathetic to this person, then they likely deserved it. They probably shouldn’t have been doing whatever it is they were doing, or were probably a threat. At best, their death will be considered a regrettable incident; but their death might also be spun, disgustingly, as a triumph over the dangers that we need to protect ourselves against.  

As the story goes, someone threw a grenade in the morning in Mutakura, a neighborhood known to support the opposition. The grenade blast killed a police officer and wounded several others. Police responded by entering the neighborhood, blocking it off to everyone outside (including Red Cross and Médecins Sans Frontières), and searching houses for weapons. By “searching houses for weapons”, I mean that what happened during this time is unclear and unconfirmed (because, as I said before, no one could get in or out), except by witnesses who say different things, depending on their political background. But who am I kidding? They mostly say that a family was gunned down in their home, unless they are police. The government has asked that police are given credit in this situation, and that we do not just believe one side. 

At the end of it, six people were dead (including the policeman, whom no one seems to think is important). The government says they found weapons, and that the raid turned deadly because people were armed. People asked if the child in the family was also armed (because that seemed ridiculous and indefensible), to which government supporters gave an actual reply: no, they kept the child in the house while they were shooting from it, and it’s a shame that’s just the kind of people they are. 

My head is spinning. 

There are more than 80 dead now - every time you see an estimate for the number dead in Burundi it says “more than”, because the dead are not all accounted for.  No one knows how many for each side, but definitely more ‘anti’ than ‘pro’ government. There have been reports of this violence and political targeting for years, so whatever number you use, the real cost of this conflict is much higher. In the immediate, investigative journalism has been completely strangled, so we may never know who or how or why all of these people are dying; because of this, people resort to posting photos of dead bodies on twitter and facebook just so there will be a record of what happened - so we won’t forget. 

Do we have a word for the structural violence that renders a society unable or unwilling to account for its dead? If there were, that would be the word I would use to describe Burundi right now. 

What do you think will happen?

Seriously, let me go get my Magic 8 Ball. I hate this question. I know that is it a totally natural and logical question to ask, and I ask it myself sometimes. But it represents, to me, almost everything that is wrong with everything.  It assumes that prediction is the same as understanding, which I don’t think is true. And it is why we, collectively, are constantly looking for the minimum to provide stability rather than what is necessary to fully provide growth and reconcile the past. “What will happen” suggests that if the answer is nothing, there is nothing to fix. “What will happen” suggests an end to the story; what actually happens takes place over months and years and has no end. 

One element that complicates predictions of the immediate future is that this is not about two parties at odds. The opposition is made up of several groups that are collaborating and depending on each other, but not in a systematic way. The groups have different goals, and draw upon different subsets of the population. Several leaders of the protests have sought refuge Rwanda with the aim of regrouping to form a movement that lasts beyond the debate over the President’s third mandate, and into the debate about Burundi’s future. Some are working to formally enter the political arena, while other organizers may have a more difficult time waiting to act. Protests have lulled and rumors of a rebellion have stirred – but is that really what people want? Some do, for sure, but I feel like there’s also this ambivalence about what should happen next. Many might be unhappy with the government, but aren’t sure they are ready to identify with this new group, and aren’t positive that they are really represented by anyone at the moment.

There is also an ethnic division within the opposition (though not as stark as some would make it seem), which may add to that ambivalence. Agathon Rwasa, leader of the largest opposition party, was notably quiet during protests and doesn't have much of a connection with protesters or their leaders. He seems to be more interested in playing the role of a politician than a rebel leader these days, helping the international community forget about his past. His history also shapes his relationship with Rwanda - not in a good way - so he is unlikely to ally himself with opposition based there unless there’s a real strategic purpose. It’s also unclear if he’s really what the people want, either. He’s definitely not someone who conjures confidence in everyone, and outside of the western provinces, he has less of a following. 

Not unlike the opposition today, the ruling party was also once a mishmash of opportunists, idealists, and intellectuals. A series of alliances and backstabbing by members of the CNDD-FDD ensured that today’s crisis would eventually come; key leaders have made their choices (and their enemies). They’ll stand by these elections because there really is no other choice in their eyes. Anti-government groups are, in contrast, battling a system that has weakened their parties, their human rights groups, and their media. They’re still negotiating amongst themselves, deciding who to align with and what move(s) to make next. Will they make the right choices? Will they backstab and break apart? Will they stick to their ideals? Will the presidential elections in two weeks happen? Will a rebellion take shape?

I remember that time that I did something my parents didn’t like and left the house for a little while to let things cool down and go run some errands. When I got back, my parents were half happy I came home, half still mad, and I just told them point blank: “Do you want ME or AL SHABAAB as a daughter?”

No, that obviously never happened at my house, because I would have been relegated to my room for like 4,567,780 days. But it did happen in Burundi, sort of.

No longer a rumor, the coup d’état is real and many in Bujumbura are celebrating. Both the police and army are split in their support for the coup, so we will just have to see how things shake out in the coming weeks, and who emerges to defend Nkurunziza and who is gearing up to take his place.  Apparently, there is a committee. So you see, hope is not lost. Most great things have been achieved through committees. Am I right?

What happens now depends quite a lot on who was part of the coup and who was not. The coming weeks will reveal who negotiated and made deals beforehand, and that will particularly shape the reaction of the Imbonerakure and those who defended Nkurunziza’s third mandate. I am guessing that a small group of hardliners have remained so until now, and are not planning to accept this new turn of events. They’re probably going to react, possibly violently. But for now, let’s be optimistic. 

My, MY news travels fast, especially using What’sApp. And Facebook. And Twitter. And more What’sApp. And then - briefly - none of the above, because the government tried to shut down communication on social media websites. And then, through VPNs, all of the above.

On all of these forms of social media, you will find that there have been protests in Burundi since April 26th, following the President’s April 25th announcement that he was elected as the candidate for the 2015 elections (his third term in a row). Protests continued for 6 days uninterrupted, with a 48-hour truce over the weekend to bury the five civilians and one soldier killed during the protests. During the truce, two police officers and one civilian were killed by a grenade attack on Friday evening. The protests began again yesterday with renewed fervor, resulting in at least three more civilian deaths. The total is 11 confirmed dead, and 117 wounded.

Because everyone else is left with their ear to the wall, wondering what is going on outside, what’sapp/texting/facebook/twitter/[insert social media site here] has become a form of communication: a way to organize, a way to understand, and a way to predict what will happen next.

Unfortunately, not all information is accurate, and it’s quite a feat to try and separate fact from fiction.

Pierre Nkurunziza, affectionately known by his supporters as “Tracksuit P” for his exceptional soccer skills, is running for a third term as President of Burundi. Okay, Tracksuit P is something a friend made up. People actually refer to him as Petero Nkurunziza, and while the nickname is a joke, the third term is not.

However, a few weeks ago, that hadn’t yet been announced. No matter, the party was still out to support his candidacy, and they came in full force. Well, some force. There were a lot of people, but not as many as were expected. But let me tell you, the CNDD-FDD paraphernalia was in full force. I definitely want to find some CNDD-FDD kitenge for when I want to look snappy.

Don’t ask me to estimate how many people were there, I don’t have that many fingers.

There were some rumors about who was going to attend this function. Imbonerakure (see my last post for an explanation) were out, and the manifestation was expected to pass by the office of Radio Publique Africaine (RPA), one of the most popular radio stations in the country, to make a point about recent clashes between them and the government. Of course, no one was sure what this meant - who would pass by, and what would they do when they passed by. They were expected to attack the station.

They did not.

One participant in the demonstrations asked us to tell the truth about what happened on that day, so I will (three weeks later, because I didn't get around to it). 

First, this was not a particularly menacing group. There are a lot of normal people who still support CNDD-FDD, as it turns out, and it is sometimes easy to forget. The atmosphere was one of hope and excitement, not intimidation or terror. Note that I am not saying that this doesn’t exist, just that it wasn’t overtly present at this march. Participants were also advised not to respond to people harassing them as they marched, and to remain peaceful. On the way to La Tempete field, one man yelled at the crowd for supporting a government that can’t even keep gasoline in the country. He has a point, but the people marched on and did not engage.

My one caveat to this point would be the balloons. Every once in a while, a balloon popped and the crowd cheered. A friend once told me (unrelated to this) that in Burundi when someone breaks a glass it means everyone is ready to have a good time. So, there is that; but there was also the feeling that the balloons popping and the crowd cheering had a more ominous overtone.

Second, people had different reasons for coming to the protests. Some truly believe (or say they do) that Pierre Nkurunziza is a leader worthy of a third term. He’s just that good. Others, with perhaps a more nuanced perspective, said that they cannot imagine any other candidate maintaining the country’s stability. “Who else could it be, if it is not Pierre Nkurunziza? Any other candidate would be a catastrophe. They’re not organized,” said one man at the march. He also has a point.

Third, the police and the demonstrators had a very different relationship on this day compared with demonstrators who oppose the government. In some ways, this is to be expected, and in some ways it’s unacceptable. Most importantly, these men and women were allowed the freedom to march through the center of town, to assemble and to speak freely. This right has not been afforded to everyone equally in Burundi, and it is the first line of interaction between police and demonstrators to shape the dynamic between them.

I am wondering where all of these normal citizens are right now, and what they are thinking, as other citizens - possibly neighbors and even friends - protest the President’s candidacy for the third day in a row. I wonder if they question why they were allowed to march into the center of town and others are not, or if the answer is clear for them. I wonder if they are questioning who their leaders are, and if this is what they really want for the future. I wonder a lot of things. 

The elections this year in Burundi are a litmus test for the strength of democracy here, as I suppose they are anywhere; but, this year in Burundi, they are particularly important.  

The president announced on Saturday that he will run for a third term, which would be fine if three terms were constitutional. Are they? Well, it’s a hotly debated topic. Some say that the President’s first term, because he took office after the signing of a peace agreement ending the country’s civil war, was not a genuine term in the Presidency as it is defined in the constitution. The president should be elected by the people according to the constitution, but in that time, a popular election wasn’t held. Others say that he was President (if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck...), and the Arusha Accords signed in agreement to end the war clearly state that the President serves two terms.

Had President Nkurunziza stepped down, he would have been an example for the region, celebrated by the international community as a democratically elected president who served his terms and left office, allowing another leader to take his place. Yes, friends, the bar is low. And yet, that scenario is now gone, tossed in a basket of unrealized possibilities.

It hasn’t been an easy start to the year. In recent months, Burundi has endured quite a lot:

the killing of members of an armed group near the country’s northwest border, and an investigation into the killings to understand the involvement of police and military, 

the murder of three nuns in the capital city who were rumored to favor the opposition party, and reports that they were murdered by members of the ruling party

the imprisonment (and eventual release) of Bob Rugurika, director of the country’s most popular radio station (RPA), as an accessory to murder in the case of the nuns

demonstrations to free Bob

a strike to protest taxes, specifically those that had not been accounted for within the government’s budget

redistribution of multiple high-level figures in the government

a two-month long gas shortage across the country, which, as it turns out, can be quite problematic

a growing split within the ruling party based on different visions for the future of the party, and concern about increasing radicalism on the part of party leaders

peace marches conducted by members of the ruling party in response to demonstrations

several ministries had exhausted their budgets sometime around the end of March... for the year

Am I missing anything? Yes. Probably. Oh yes - up until now, there are also an estimated 20,000-ish refugees who have fled to Rwanda, and an unknown number in DRC and Tanzania. Their reasons for fleeing range from being personally attacked by supporters of the ruling party to just being afraid of what may come. Some say that there is increasingly anti-Tutsi rhetoric being used, which is concerning in a country where the last civil war was drawn by ethnic lines between Hutu and Tutsi. However, the group most feared in this violence is the Imbonerakure, youth supporters of the CNDD-FDD, whose members are known to intimidate and terrorize members of the population (and specifically opposition party members) to garner support for the party.

A quick note about the Imbonerakure, and then we’ll move on. Imbonerakure and Imbonerakure are not the same (one is in italics, which we all know is important). The Imbonerakure is the official name of the youth wing of the CNDD-FDD; everyone registered in the party under the age of 35 is a member, and naturally, not all are participating in intimidation tactics. However, people also use the term Imbonerakure to refer to a group of members that support the party that functions a bit like a mafia. Some members might be in the party, some people with high-ranking positions *might* lead this group with a supporting structure that makes use of government positions, but they are not necessarily registered Imbonerakure (not necessarily interested in politics at all). If I could be bothered, I would make a venn diagram of Imbonerakure and Imbonerakure; there would be this grey area in between where they overlap.  Point is, they make people nervous, but it’s not fair necessarily to blame the official youth-wing for Burundi’s problems. Venn diagrams are confusing! I should also note that while this dynamic has been getting worse for months/years, this is not the same as general political participation, and it’s important to understand how the two do and do not overlap (another venn diagram!).

Okay, back. For Burundi itself, this is an important moment and a turning point for democratic political participation. These past few months have increasingly showed the population's ability to mobilize collectively to speak out about the government's curtailing of free speech, high levels of corruption, and inability to develop the country. Am I being harsh? They only have a budget of $970 million dollars per year, and I try to keep that in mind when I think about what they have and haven’t done in the country. I try to keep in mind that that boils down to less than $100 to spend per person per year before anything else is taken into account. Many feel that Burundi is finding its collective voice through demonstrations, protests, and strikes.

I should change that statement: I think it’s too simple of a narrative to say that the opposition are all participating in democracy and the CNDD-FDD are just a bunch of sheep and dangerous people. There have been important gains made by the CNDD-FDD as a political party in the past, and there is a risk of losing some of those gains if the party changes. Important achievements are not forgotten, and people do not forget who fought for them. Supporters of CNDD-FDD have their reasons to support their party, just like any other group, and I want to be clear about that. CNDD-FDD members have also participated in demonstrations, and they’re included. So, Burundi isn’t finding one collective voice, it’s finding that it has the ability to house different voices - voices that are becoming stronger. 

Mixed with hope, there is also fear. People are afraid for the future, without clear knowledge of how the government and supporters may react as tensions rise, and without a clear way forward following the announcement of the third mandate.

I just finished reading Bossypants, thus successfully accomplishing all of the items on my short list of things to do during vacation (ie. go to the beach, hang out with the dog, read for fun, cook decent food, call home, be [more] active). The trick to feeling good about spending your Christmas and New Year's vacation mostly-alone in Burundi, I've decided, is to not set expectations too high. Enjoy the solitude.

Anyway. The book made me smile, and laugh, and while I realize that Tina Fey wasn't writing specifically for me, it sometimes felt like it was the case. Here are five quotes that spoke to me, in no particular order. If you count the title, I guess it's six quotes.  I cheated - so it goes:

"Blorft" is an adjective I just made up that means 'Completely overwhelmed but proceeding as if everything is fine and reacting to the stress with the torpor of a possum.' I have been blorft every day for the past seven years.

When people say, "You really, really must" do something, it means you don't really have to. No one ever says, "You really, really must deliver the baby during labor." When it's true, it doesn't need to be said. 

Politics and prostitution have to be the only jobs where inexperience is considered a virtue. In what other profession would you brag about not knowing stuff? “I’m not one of those fancy Harvard heart surgeons. I’m just an unlicensed plumber with a dream and I’d like to cut your chest open.” The crowd cheers. 

You can’t be that kid standing at the top of the waterslide, overthinking it. You have to go down the chute. 

Sunsets in Burundi are often magical.  Heavy clouds make the light dance between golds, pinks, and purples stretching over green hills (and a certain Lake Tanganyika). Looking onto one of these sunsets, a friend of mine once said "I hope I never get used to it." I remember being curious as to whether he was referring to the sunsets specifically, or to that larger sense of wonder that we are sometimes graced with in life. Very little of my life in Bujumbura turned out as I expected it would when I first arrived two and a half years ago. Burundi has tried my patience more than I care to admit - and I've questioned countless times whether or not I should stay - but it has also given me wonderful memories.  There's a lot to love about the life I've had here.