We are on our way to Gisagara, a district in the southern province of Rwanda. Jane is our driver and Egidia from the LCB Cadea accompanies us to help Fernanda and me to meet the persons we want to interview today. She is a pastor and speaks a short prayer at the beginning of the ride. The only thing I understand is Imana - God. We left the office at 7:40 am and Jane is a fast driver. I have already taken this road to the south on my first sunday when visiting Beatrice’s relative in Nyanza and I recognise the spot where Bernard stopped the car to check the radiator. We pass three scenes of accidents. One truck has fallen to its side when climbing a slope leaving the main road. Ropes stop the load, mattresses on top, from spreading out on the road. The second accident includes more cars but again it is a truck laying twisted on the edge of the road. The third truck apparently made a complete roll and is now laying on its roof, wheels stretched into the air. Heads are turned each time we pass a site like this, but I don’t understand what the two women are saying.
The south is less hilly than any other region I have seen so far. The hills are less high and the valleys are wider. Some look as if a big river has carved the land, which has dried for some reasons, making room for fields. I see where the clay bricks, that are used to build simple houses, come from. They are simply cut out of the wet soil.
After two hours, we already arrive in Save, a sector in Gisagara, where we are supposed to meet our first interviewee, the JADF permanent secretary of Gisagara. He is at a teachers’ training at a secondary school and we use his short break for our questions. At first he seems to think we could do it in the car, but luckily we go to a classroom instead. Posters hang on the wall, showing illustrations of the digestive system, the nervous system, the structure of skin and others. It is a bit irritating that people come and go and the door is constantly opened and closed, but the interview is more fruitful than expected. Augustin speaks English so both Fernanda and I ask questions and from time to time Egidia helps with translations in Kinyarwanda.
From here, we continue to Huye, which used to be called Butare, for the next interview. On our way, we pass a church where two nuns are having a conversation and Egidia recognises the one lady as a friend. It turns out that this lady has spent five years in Italy and she has a short conversation in Italian with Fernanda. She seems to be really happy to use that language.
In Huye we go to the office of Care International, an NGO that is a member of JADF. After having written our names and contact details into a book and a short waiting time, we meet Assumpta. She is the first JADF member we talk to and her input is really interesting. The interview is in French, but I understand enough to realise that her answers are different from the ones we got so far which is very useful for our case study. She gives examples and critical feedback.
It is past noon now and time for lunch. Jane and Egidia choose a small restaurant and there they have the usual buffet. Jane bought some special flat bread and samosas and takes a big glass of milk with it, while we eat the usual mix of rice, potato, banana and sauce with vegetables. For dessert, there is banana and maracuja for each of us. When we go back to the car, we are approached by street vendors selling strawberries and handicraft and a beggar. The woman is an albino and covers her head and distorted face with cloth.
The next interviewee is the Executive Secretary of the district, also member of JADF but of course part of the public sector. On every door in the office and on the walls I see stickers: Stop corruption. Again, the interview is in French. We can only ask a few questions, but more wouldn’t have got us further information anyway. His answers are extremely general and vague and he doesn’t even manage to give us one single concrete example of an implemented activity in the district. After every question he nods, shuffles the papers in front of him and then slowly gives an unspecific answer that doesn’t help at all. Not a very fruitful interview.
We planned to meet one more person, the president of JADF in Gisagara, but she is far from Huye, on a field trip herself maybe. We would have to wait for over an hour for her and therefore decide to skip this interview. Instead, we ask our questions to Egidia while we are on the road. She has heard our questions before and knows what we are looking for, so her inputs are structured and informative despite the rather unusual conditions of the conversation.
I know that there is a memorial site close to Huye and as we are heading back to Kigali early, I ask Jane to pass there. However, she understands something different from what I have in mind and just points out a spot where a number of graves and a small house in white and violet are fenced in next to the road. Maybe it is not so important to visit what I meant. We see the progress Rwanda is making and look forward, as H.E. the President Paul Kagame says. Of course we keep Rwanda’s history in mind and learn from it, but why torture us with something that can’t be changed anymore.
Jane leaves the main road to stop at a group of houses on a small road. She wants to buy cassava flour here and Egidia uses the opportunity to buy beans. Again, these products are better and cheaper here. Jane also stops to buy a couple of pineapples as the ones from here are supposed to have a nicer taste. The cassava flour has a strong smell that fills the car now. We cross the wide valleys, green fields to our left and to our right. I want to take pictures, but on the other hand don’t want to ask Jane to stop for a moment. We listen to the radio which is sending a programme in English at the moment. A christian NGO interviews a woman who has been raped during the war in the DRC. It is horrible to listen to that voice and I am about to ask them to change the channel. She describes how men took her and others from the village to a forest, how her husband and children had to watch, how she later saw photographs of her family, dead, with their hearts cut out. I don’t want to, but I can’t stop listening to it. The picture-taking is forgotten and I don’t even really pay attention to our surroundings. It is much better when the next programme is French and about learning English expressions for printing and print options.
We are soon back in Kigali, but it takes long to drive through the city. In order to drop Fernanda close to where she stays, we pass through an area that I have not seen so far. The road is very bad and an extensive part looks like a cemetery for trucks. Only just before arriving at the office, I recognise where we are.
