The fourth of July is a day celebrated as one of the few national holidays in Rwanda. No fireworks, no BBQs. We all woke up very early and left the house around 7 am to hike the half hour to the bus stop. The buses were so crowded the five of us had to split up and we arrived a short time later at Amohoro Stadium for the day's festivities. We arrived along with the rest of Rwanda. To celebrate Liberation Day. The day the RPF took over Kigali, which led to the end of the genocide.
The sidewalks and streets were so covered with people we had a hard time finding a place to walk. The group I was with entered the stadium area and were faced with a mob scene, that rivaled Navy Pier on New Year's Eve for the turn of the Century. We walked from line to line looking for a place to enter and finally settled into a mob of people. The women were taken into their own line so we were all pushed to the front for our standard Rwandan pat downs. This security check would certainly have ended up with plenty of lawsuits if done in the U.S. Every person that entered, even children were patted down and all bags were searched before anyone was allowed to enter.
After about an hour of walking around to find an entrance, a line, and finally making our way to seats, we were inside and ready to watch the show around 8:30. The stadium hasn't been renovated since, I'm guessing the early '70s, judging by the decor. We sat on concreted slabs in the cheap seats section. The festivities didn't get started until around 10:30 when a tiny marching band entered the stadium.
This band was followed by the largest military showing I've ever seen in one place. This was the theme of the day. Liberation Day was about one thing and one thing only...step out of line again and the army will get you. The presidential marching band entered dressed all in blue. The people in the crowd cheered and rose to their feet as Paul Kagame entered. The RPF leader, the hero himself. Now, thirteen years later, the president of Rwanda enters the stadium to watch was turns out to be a military show.
After my time in Rwanda, I've begun to assume the national slogan is "Never again". Personally, being in the presence of enough firearms to level the state of California is more than a little chilling, but not so for Rwandans, the survivors. Members of the military lined the track in block formations while groups of four to ten soldiers displayed their hand to hand combat skills in staged battles. At one point three blocks of soldiers marched forward and put on a coordinated performance of a karate kada I had actually learned for green belt. The statium shook with their movements and their voices echoed in the silence. It was chilling.
The games continued with targets set up in the middle of the field. Soldiers came forward to demonstrate their weaponry skills beginning with knives and ending with machettes. The same weapon, thirteen years ago, that was used to lop off arms, legs, heads...no one seemed to notice the connection. The crowd cheered each hit and laughed at every miss.
The final event was by far my favorite. It very much depicted the situation of the genocide, with an alternate ending. It began with camouflaged soldiers pretending to be hidden. A man and a woman, nicely dressed, carrying a briefcase and purse respectively, walked into the area where the other men were hidden. They were jumped. Both the man and woman threw their belongings to the ground and dove right in to fighting with the attackers. At one point I sat there with my mouth hanging open watching a woman in high heeled shoes run up the side of a soldier, kick him in the face (not connect though) and hang, suspended vertical in the air at his face level. This was an unbelievable show of amazing skill and the entire stadium erupted as the two, seemingly ordinary Rwandan citizens walked off the field victorious. Never again.
The military acts were followed by traditional Rwandan dancers and singers, but they were performing with their backs to the crowd, facing instead, the president. The speeches and songs were difficult to hear because the stadium had some reverb problems and the acoustics were terrible.
After the formal celebration, there were to be two soccer games: the business men vs. some other old guy team and the match of the day: ATRACO, the city transportation system vs. the military, Paul Kagame's team. Margot and I peaced out before the games began because it was hot and we weren't really in the mood for soccer. Walking out of the stadium in the mob of people I thought a lot about the day. The message.
People here are still very much afraid, suffering from '94. The promises found in the Geneva Conventions were sadly,not found in Rwanda for the 100 days of extreme violence. The people are put somewhat at ease today by knowing that the leader of the RPF, the man responsible for leading the rebels to victory and thus ending the genocide, is in charge of Rwanda and it's armed forces. Many people I've worked with have commented often over the past month that Rwanda is an incredibly safe country, undoubtedly, the safest country in Africa. It is impossible to walk to the clinic and see under ten men with guns standing at various buildings or patrolling the streets. While their presence doesn't end the flashbacks of the WE-ACTx house cook, nor the stigma faced by the HIV+ receptionist at WE-ACTx, who by the way fought in the RPF and acted as a front line nurse, it gives citizens a sense of security that lets them know, with or without the support of the rest of the world, Rwanda will not let the genocide in. Never again.
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