Bukavu Week1

“Ils sont assassins, gent de mauvais esprit” , Evariste…
(They are assassins, people of evil spirit)

After a 5 city whirlwind tour of Europe, Sergi (film’s director) and me embarked on a three day trip that took us from Barcelona to Congo through Amsterdam, Nairobi and Kigali until our destination in Bukavu, eastern Congo (formerly Zaire). We were met in Kigali by our driver, Evariste who got us started in understanding the context of the conflict of the land that holds the distinction of the 21st century’s first world war.

I know, it is a war that no one has heard of, even as countries as Spain, Germany and others are sending troops to monitor the upcoming elections slated for the end of July.

He was reticent to stop along the way…it was a 5 hour trip and we wanted to make a stop to stretch and get something to drink…he sputtered, they are all assassins, gent du mauvaise esprit (people of evil spirits. Anyone who watched the film, Hotel Rwanda, can understand what he meant. What people don’t understand is the war they are raging is against their colossal neighbor, Congo.

800,000 Rwandans were killed in 100 days in 1994, but 4 million have died since the inception of the new century and Rwandans are playing a major role in keeping this region destabilized. And as Mobutu Sese Seko once said, “when you see a dog on a tree, you must look around to see who placed him there, because dogs can’t climb a tree alone”. Apt metaphor in trying to understand how such a small country as Rwanda plays a major role in keeping this region of Congo in constant terror.

The spoils of war are evident once we reach Bukavu. They wage war from the dense jungles of the great lakes region. Securing the mineral rich region while terrorizing its inhabitants. The rape centers are full, fistulas are a common malady affecting women as young as 4 years old. They use sexual violence as a weapon of mass destruction.

In May 2004 a general was imposed by Kinshasa by its young president Kabila. His underling was a colonel not too happy with the new arrangement. The frictions led to an uprising and soon war broke out in this former Belgian lakeside resort. A Rwandan refugee rebel leader soon joined the colonel and started pillaging his way from Goma in the north on his way to Bukavu.

Their system was efficient. Roadblocks to rob and kill those who opposed the rebels. They started taking the women to help them in this pursuit. One must understand that the men of this region cannot do much without women. Women must cook, clean, launder. Fetch wood and raise children.

Once women are raped, they are rejected by all as used and dirty disposable beings. In this one village they took many women. Those left started to sleep away from their homes to evade the ghosts of the night. Soon these ghosts, thirsty for sex and working hands took to these sleeping centers.

When the rebels came to the centers and found only men, they in turn were raped summarily, the lowest form of denigration on these great lakes. But men don’t cook or clean, so they pursued on with iron-tipped spears, poking the forest floor until feminine screams betrayed their hideout.

Those who evaded them seeked sanctuary in churches. Sensing this, the rebels went to church, killed the priests and started ringing the church bells, beckoning the women to unforeseen carnage…the violence is unimaginable and the methods cruel in their simplicity and effectiveness…

This happened in light of a UN peacekeeping force in place since 2001. An in one moment, an agreement was etched out and the Rwandans rebels retreated without punishment and left behind the worst scenario for women. Women who are raped are seen as dirty, used and worthless. They are separated from their children and all family. Their bodies are left with fistulas so severe they are incontinent for life, cementing their stigma as dirty, used and worthless.

Still, the Congolese people, so used to exploitation from Arab slave traders to the rule of the Belgian king Leopold II and now the thirst to control the diamonds, gold, uranium, coltran that these people walk over. Neighboring countries seed instability to pillage these riches, denying its citizens the wealth that lies beneath them.

For the women of this region it also carries the legacy of HIV. Sexual violence done en masse has lifted seroprevalence from 2% to 20 % in a little over a decade. Orphaned children, broken homes and cultural mores keeps pressing them further and further into despair.

The rape center in Panzi Hospital has 160 women in its wards. Their center for restoring health to women’s sexual organs is fast becoming a leading center helping women regain control of their bodies, a sure blessing. Now it is also attempting to re-educate their families to understanding that raped women are victims of this world war and should not be punished further by rejection, stigma and discrimination.

These efforts so far have eluded success as most of these women turn to prostitution and continue on the spiral of disease and shame. It is not easy the work that needs to be done, but it is being done.

Thankfully, Bukavu has antiretrovirals. The main source comes from MSF (medecins sans frontieres) who started delivering them in late 2003 to show that conflict areas should not be excluded from access to these life-saving medications.

The antiretrovirals are even made here, in Pharmakina. It is called Afrivir; a combination of Lamivudine (3tc), Stavudine (d4t) and Viramune, all compressed into one pill taken twice daily. The price is 20 dollars a month, making it the cheapest cocktail in the world. They brought a WHO-approved formula used with much success in Thailand. But the WHO does not approve Afrivir, Thailand’s clone. They want them to start a process as if it was starting from scratch. So in Pharmakina, these life-saving medications are sitting in boxes waiting for time to match their expiration date.


We attended a workshop training new peer educators. It was a sight to see people from so many agencies, a result of funding like PEPFAR and Global Fund. Their main goal is to get people to test for HIV. I asked them if they had been tested, half answered no. I said you should ask people to do what you are willing to do yourself. Only then can you command the authority and trust in the message you give…don’t ask people to do something you aren’t willing to do yourself.

Sergi also spoke of his experience of being sero-ignorant and the process he took to know his status. His words were so soothing that in the end 6 of the untested educators want to test next week and have the assurance of me being their counselor post-test.

I urged them to exhort people to test for behavior and not symptoms. This way, if the news is bad, there is a lot more to do when compared to coming in with symptoms. I make a point of only speaking before people who have access to voluntary testing, counseling and medications, specifically antiretrovirals.

On another subject, we are still trying to access all permits to film. It seems everyone thinks we are a Hollywood outfit and are trying to extract money for everything. So far we have met with the border authorities where we have seen our monies go directly in their shirt pockets, security forces that are demanding 50 dollars a week per person and the mayor who told us; see the governor. This is slated for Monday…

Until then we have a full week ahead, hopefully with permit in hand we will start the sensibilization using the test kits we are waiting to arrive and our first visit to Bagira where I will see the patients who debuted the pills 3 years ago. I can’t wait for the week to begin…I know I am supposed to say weekend, but I am happy to feel useful again…

…As we returned from one of the many meetings with officials, we stumbled upon traditional dancers. They were carrying iron-tipped spears; animal fur wigs and traditional skirts and dancing what seemed to me like “Paso Doble” (Puerto Rican dance). We stopped, and as being the only two foreigners, we were asked to join. I, of course, refused unless I was given the full regalia…above all I wanted to get the wig on as I have not had hair in over a decade…the best part of the dance is that after four steps either way, you stop and swing the fur wig with a head snap…Fab!