As we used to say in school that l-o-o-o-n-g ago, “Results are out!” However, in the case of today, the results have been afloat in the air only they hadn’t received the stamp of authority. Today, what has only been speculation is the truth you can take to the bank. Rwandan criminal and genocide fugitives who’ve been baying for Rwandan blood, thy expiry date are hither. So, remnant malfeasants, lamenting and intra-blame will take thee nowhere. Stick ’em up, come say mea culpa to thy people and enjoy thy day in court. Last Saturday 14, as happens regularly, the RPF political bureau assembly was in session. Where in other countries these gatherings are conspiracy harems that layout plans of slaying opposition parties, such RPF meetings are theatres of pondering progress for the country. The cadres knock their heads together, strategizing on how to work ever harder and smarter as the engine of development. They go through past government performance with a toothcomb to see where it’s fallen short and examine reasons. Then embark on unearthing ways of sealing these loopholes as individual government officials tell themselves out on who didn’t perform to expectation. The citizenry must get their due goods and services and all advance as an egalitarian society. That’s the urgency that consumes such RPF congresses. From here, the cadres in government hold a frank and open conversation with their colleagues in other political parties and together deliberate on these ways of pushing their country to ever-higher levels. Similarly, citizen cadres share their thoughts with fellow citizens on their rightful expectations from government and their role in propelling the country forward. On the agenda of peace and security last week, in the meeting’s usual forthright and no-holds-barred conversation, the topic of these fugitives came up. That’s when the RPF chairman, President Paul Kagame, confirmed that “expiry” that I’d only been hearing informally. “Informally”, yes, but from a source as solid on the security and evolution of this land as you can get, after his boss. Gen Kabarebe has a gift of the gab to tell a story as no one will. So, the story goes that a band of those out-law goons had the temerity to imagine penetrating this ‘armored’ land to exact pain. A laugh like I’d never heard before! They’d heard of some sneaky brigands who, crossing the southern border, had somehow managed to hurt one or two innocents inside Rwanda. Unbeknown to them, an opening had been made for them in case they were here for that mea culpa. They were not. And that gave others the pluck to across the south-western border and do “bigger things”. “Bigger things”, holy cow! The little detail they forgot was to check if a single one of their fellow outcasts had made it back to their lair across. Check, they hadn’t. So, as creatures of delusion, from their nooks, the insurgents slipped across the south-western border and into the Rwandan thick forest of Nyungwe national park. Little did they know that each step they made was literally within inches of one of Rwanda’s hawk-eyed security agents’ heads! Once assembled in ‘their new home’, they sat cozy to chart out their next now-blood-letting move. But then, panic set in. For any who tried to ‘waltz’ beyond ‘their home’, a shot rang out. Bewilderingly, though, none targeted any of them! A night passed, then a day. Nothing. Now hurdled together and lost as to what to do next, they saw one of Rwanda’s security agents sauntering towards them and: “Muraho se? Muri Abanyarwanda batashye tukabafasha?” (Humble greetings! Are you Rwandans returning home so we can help?) The desperados had been so taken aback that none had thought of reaching for their gun! When they adamantly stuck to their mission of ‘importing’ pain, they were all disarmed. But not before their commander was asked to use his walkie-talkie, recharged for him, to report a successful mission and invite their back-up outlaws along. After all of them had gathered and been disarmed, they were left alone! The rest, to quote the old, tired cliché, is history! History that’ll be told by the grass and tree-barks of the area, survivors of the brigand’s hunger-killing effort. “Hunger-killing effort”, which proved to be a wasted effort. Dear Rwandans, don’t get me wrong. I report this in all sadness. These young hard-core killers were sacrificial black sheep misguided by a chief army-deserting criminal fugitive ensconced in the comfort of South Africa. Who, like a chief genocide criminal before him, fallen last Wednesday 18, is seeing his fall looming large. Surely, this criminal fugitive in South Africa and his likes should know best that nothing else awaits him who wishes this land ill. He was there at the dawn of the 1990s. Though preoccupied in his looting sprees, he was witness to the defeats suffered by a combination of the Habyarimana army, Francophone African armies and their overall master, the French army, at the hands of a ragtag Rwanda Patriotic Army. RPA now rendered formidable as the Rwanda Defence Force, who has a chance against it? The wizardry of your then-commander ain’t anywhere near fazed, brother-man! The views expressed in this article are of the author.
