Scrolling through my Twitter timeline on Tuesday, the biggest topic of contention on #RwoX (Rwandans on X) is the draft family law (it will pass into law only when it is passed in Cabinet and published in the Official Gazette). ALSO READ: You could legally marry at 18 in Rwanda, new bill proposes The issue isn’t the entire draft law; rather, the sticking point is the proposed age of marriage, i.e., 18. Previously, the age of marriage was 21. And before that, it was 18. So, what Parliament has done is simply propose that the legal age of marriage return to what it was over a decade and a half ago. Taking a position on this issue is tricky for me because there are so many ways to look at it. If we look at it as allowing adults to make an adult decision, then 18 is the right age of consent for marriage. In Rwandan law, once someone turns 18, they are legally an adult. They can vote, they can be tried (and sentenced) as adults in court, they can sign binding contracts, and they can join our military. Basic logic dictates that if someone is deemed old enough to die for their country, vote for its leadership, and get sentenced as an adult, then they should be allowed to be treated as full adults, with all the rights that adulthood entails. ALSO READ: Getting married at 18: What are “reasonable grounds” in proposed legislation? That is one side of the argument. And truth be told, that should be the only one that holds water because legally speaking, we cannot pick and choose definitions of adulthood based on the prevailing mood and cultural zeitgeist. However, as a married person myself and a father of two, I totally understand where those who oppose the draft are coming from. Marriage is hard. It needs superhuman patience, selflessness, unending sacrifice, sober-mindedness, financial propriety, and long-term thinking. All things that 18-year-olds are notoriously bad at. I mean, if we are to be honest, even a lot of 35-year-olds are terrible at marriage. But at least, people who are 30 cannot say that they failed due to youthful folly. A teenager (which is what an 18-year-old still is) certainly can. So, what should be done? In my opinion, I think we should deem someone an adult when they reach 21 and not 18. Voting age? 21. Military age? 21. Drinking age? 21. Being tried as an adult? 21. And walking down the aisle? Certainly 21. As well as scrolling through the timeline yesterday and consuming what other people created, I also posted some content as well. Two weeks ago, I was given the opportunity to meet Innocent Tuyubahe, a 29-year-old ex-FDRL fighter who had fled the jungles of eastern DR Congo only two months back. In the thirty-minute conversation we had, he reveals not just how terrifying FDLR’s genocide ideology is (young FDLR recruits are taught by the older generation of former Interahamwe and Ex-FAR combatants that Tutsis came down from heaven “as tragedies” and that everything befalls them is Tutsis' fault), how FDLR is literally armed, fed, and paid a monthly salary by the DRC government, but also how FDLR is encamped right alongside Monusco, DRC military forces, Wazalendo, Russian mercenaries, Burundians, Mai-Mai in a small center called Bambiro located between Goma and Sake. It is a veritable axis of evil. Innocent’s first-hand testimony is further evidence of just how awake to the dangers surrounding us remain. We can argue and debate about social issues until the cows come home, but we need to remain aware that while we do that, there are forces right in our neighborhood that literally want to send us back to 1994. And while it is the responsibility of our security services to keep us safe, it is our responsibility as citizens to be knowledgeable about our geopolitical contexts and proactive against the forces of darkness that are against our very existence. These forces aren’t just FDLR and Felix Tshisekedi’s rag-tag army. They also consist of politicians like Victoire Ingabire, an unrepentant criminal who masks her known supremacist ideology through the slogan of ‘democracy and free speech’. So, for all the attention we give to our local issues, we should also understand that there are ‘real’ life and death forces that assail us. And even if we don’t pay them any attention, let us not think, for one second, that they aren’t paying attention to us. The author is a socio-political commentator
