REFUGEE CAMP

If somebody were to ask you the first 5 images that come to mind when you say Africa, what would you say?

A separate project which I’m involved in with VSO, over and above my HIV prevention work is one called ‘Global Education’ which aims - in broad terms - to confront the common stereotypes which instigate prejudice. Importantly the project focuses on prejudices held both in the developed world as well as the developing world. We all tend to generalize. Is it not true that in the UK we often ‘tragidize’ African nations as being ravaged by disease and famine, wracked by poverty, ruined by corruption and prone to suffering at the hands of dictatorial leaders? It is the same out here. If somebody sees a Muzungu, or mentions talk of the USA or Britain, the automatic response is to think money, opportunity, technology, half naked celebrities and maybe Arsenal football club. Few people here could comprehend the idea of a western nation having a bank of poor people, or even containing a population who do not all drive around in 4x4s or girls who do not want to take their clothes off at every opportunity...
Just as we often forget (or more likely, do not know of) the skyscrapers, chic nightclubs, karate clubs, rich businessmen, Italian restaurants and African humanitarian workers all over Africa, people here are often unaware of the poverty in Britain and/or our important social values - they are somewhat badly conveyed by blockbuster films and MTV.
This Global Education project involves not only my work with ABK students back on the Isle of Wight, but also students out here. Last Friday I went with the Rwanda Global Ed’ committee to Byumba refugee camp in the north east of the country, where plans are already in action to raise awareness of the reality of the situation in the camps (of which there are many in Rwanda. I live just ten minutes away from one containing Burundian refugees, the one in Byumba was a Congolese one). A video will be produced to be used for advocacy purposes but a team may also do some teaching workshops there. I was there for the moment just to see the situation as it stands.

We were welcomed by Maurice, a Jesuit priest whose Catholic NGO works with the UNHCR (UN High Council for Refugees), and whilst the current committee members were in their meeting, the new kids on the block (ie, me and 4 others) were shown around.

The camp is large – approx 19 000 refugees live there, 11 000 of which are under the age of 18. Of the rest, at least two thirds are women – the guys often get fed up and leave, dissipating into the Rwandan hills, hoping for something better. My feeling is that often these guys will be deceived and dissapointed by what they find. The camp is no California dream, but there are schools, a health centre, shops and facilities found in all Rwandan towns – the difference being that the UN pays. It wouldn’t be ridiculous to suggest that the camp has better faciltities than the average town. Psychologically of course, it’s not easy to be living in a camp, knowing that you cannot legally leave and try to make go of living in a foreign country, nor that you cannot return home without facing violence. The Congolese do not regard the refugees as Congolese, nor the Rwandans as Rwandan. Yet, what struck me (and this is a very personal point of view, which the others had less of an issue with - I am the only one working in HIV prevention) was what I believe to be better provision of health facilities. The camp has free HIV testing (as do many Rwandan towns) and also supply free ARV drugs which lessen the effects of HIV and AIDS on the immune system.

These ARVs are also technically available at no cost to any Rwandan citizen, if they have tested positive. Yet, in the whole of my district, which takes at least 4-5 hours to drive in a pick-up truck from top to bottom along the ‘main roads’, there is just one single hospital which supplies ARVs. Thus, it is a several day trek to get there for the average citizen to get there, they then have to camp outside the hosiptal gates for a few weeks and then have to return there once a month for the rest of their lives. This is basically impossible for most people – if not because they have no transport, or could not afford to take the weeks off work or from harvesting, then because their absence would result in their social death, since neighbours would identify them as being HIV positive and subject them to stigmatization. It often feels slightly like a government ploy to be able to tell international donors of their free ARV policy so that they can get continued funding for other projects – or maybe that is my cynical mind. Maybe they just cannot afford to decentralize provision of these life-prolonging drugs. Anyway, ARV availability is low, even if they are free, and yet, here on the camp, this population of 19 000 citizens have access at their fingertips.

It’s a complex issue and I am not suggesting that the camp citizens shoud not have such access – it would just be nice if the same opportunities were available all over the country – as they are in the West.

The kids in the camp were astounding. Bright, cheerful, and excellent communicators – their grasp of English and French was of a much better standard than that of any of the kids in my district down south, and appeared to substantiate the belief that both the Congolese and the Burundians are much better at language learning than the Rwandans. They were very excited to see us – there can’t be that many visitors in the camp, and though the skies opened and treated us to an absolute torrent of rain, soaking us through they stayed with us, skipping along, singing, giggling as I made out as if to grab one, and laughing hysterically when I nearly skidded right over in the yellow-brown gooey mud (Of course I did it to entertain – not at all because of inapproprate footwear or lack of balance...).

The camp reminded me of the idea of relative happiness. I heard a story about people in The Gambia who told a British doctor that they had no idea that they were poor until white people told them so. I don’t mean that since the kids were happy there is no reason to help, no need for access to health and education and freedom. I don’t mean that in any rose-tinted condascending colonial type fashion. These are basic human rights which should be attainable – not just attainable but the natural possession of every person on this earth. It is a testimony to these kids who remain cheerful without their father around, living for ten years with plastic sheeting instead of a roof, without toys, without stability, perhaps having seen members of their family macheted to death...
Of course, there is relative poverty and despair in Britain on an equally devastating emotional scale too. We’re often really not that far apart.


I’m aware that if I carry on like this I might lose a reader or two. So I’ll reply to some questions I’ve been asked. Feel free anyone else to ask questions and I’ll try and reply.

So...