and so it begins...

The day after my birthday was when we had our first glimpse of what we really came to Africa for. We had all gone into town to have a look at downtown Nairobi and on our way back the bus took a detour past the Kibera slums. Kibera is one of the largest slums in the world and home to over a million people. The little tin-roof shacks extended to the horizon. There was garbage flooding every inch of the ground and the stench of feces was at times overwhelming. I even saw a small shop advertising cell phone charging. These people don't have electricity but most of them have phones. (It's a messed up economy where the poorest of the poor have cell phones but can't afford electricity or even a solid roof over their heads.)

The next morning the last of our team arrived. Carolyn and Katie arrived bright and early and didn't get a moments rest before we visited the first of many organizations in East Africa making a difference in the lives of the youth there. We went to Hope International School which is one of the only French schools in Nairobi and where many refugees of francophone Africa attend. The school is desperate for funding and as a result the teachers are all volunteers getting paid only small amounts at times when the school has a bit to spare. The classrooms are very small often with only a plywood board between classes. We were told that when it rains it is so loud that the teachers have to resort to writing everything on the board. I was told that while to me it seems impossible for education to take place within these walls there are hundreds of schools in East Africa that don't even have walls.

We interviewed the director of the school who told us of their need for books and of a building to call their own so that the would no longer have to pay rent. Next we interviewed a few of the students and we learned that despite all of the challenges they face, the students at Hope are exceptional. They excel academically and many have received scholarships to study in France or Belgium. We met one young man called Fils who makes greeting cards into the wee hours of every night so that he earns an income and can pay his school fees. He touched our hearts with his determination and we pulled together enough money to pay his fees for him for a term. He has since inspired the two Room for Improvement competitive scholarships that we will begin accepting applications for once our film is complete.

That evening we were invited up to the Nyandwi house for supper. Dr. Nyandwi invited a few of his friends to meet with us and tell us of their own experiences in Rwanda. We asked them a lot of questions about Rwanda and East Africa in general and we got into some pretty amazing and in depth conversations. They all enlightened us with their perceptions of Rwanda's past and what needs to happen for it to succeed in the future. We talked about Canada and its role in the world and in East Africa and their perceptions of it. I am very grateful to them for that excellent introduction to what we would soon discover for ourselves on our travels.

That evening brings to mind a conversation we had with another man we had met in town who had fled Rwanda only a month before we arrived in Kenya and told us his story. He is a well educated man, was married and has two young sons. They had left Rwanda during the war and returned afterward to reclaim their lives there. However, those who fled Rwanda during the war are now considered to be deserters of their country and are not permitted to work. Also, upon their return, they found that their home was now occupied by others who were not interested in giving it up. (This is a story far too common in Rwanda these days.) The man went to the proper authorities to reclaim his home and after a long battle was given a date and told that he would have his home back on that day. When he arrived, the military was waiting for him and would have killed him had a neighbour not warned him before he got too close. After many years of working under the table for different compassionate people here and there. The military again attempted to take his life one night when they stormed his home. Again it was their neighbours who came to their rescue. Finally, this man was served with a summons to attend the Gacaca court on charges of the first degree of genocide (i.e. planning the genocide). The next day, he took his boys and fled. The boys now attend Hope International and are doing very well.

The Gacaca courts have been described to me as a national embarrassment. These courts were initially set up to deal with the overwhelming number of trials as a result of the genocide. They are the traditional courts of Rwanda where each community hears the trials of the members of their own community. I can't say if or how the courts were of any success at the beginning but now I have to agree that they are an embarrassment. At Gacaca a person can be handed a thirty year sentence based entirely on the word of one individual. The people who work at the Gacaca are not trained in any way with regard to law, justice, evidence... nothing. I will tell you more in further detail when I get to the trial we attended in Kigali.

In any case, this man we met was a highly educated man and educated men have targets on their backs in Rwanda these days as potential threats to the current regime. Unwarranted charges of genocide now seem to fall on these people and when they do there is a conviction rate of nearly 100%. Our friend had no choice but to flee. In fact, upon our return to Nairobi after visiting Rwanda, we learned that his trial had gone on without him and he had in fact been convicted and sentenced to thirty years in prison. For now he and his sons are safe but they will now never be able to return home.