In Central Africa lies a country, almost a subcontinent, roughly the size of all of Western Europe—one of the richest countries in terms of resources, yet one of the poorest in terms of resource gain per capita. It is home to Africa’s biggest billionaires, in terms of anonymous Swiss accounts, but also to the poorest peasant hunters and gatherers in the modern age. The Democratic Republic of the Congo seems so unfortunate that, for about 200 years, its identity was determined by a single powerful entity or person. At one point, it was “The Congo Free State”, a territory established in the 1880s through agreements with local rulers by a group of European investors led by Leopold II, King of the Belgians. What a beautiful name! One would imagine that “Free” would imply freedom—but not at all! The “Free” in its appellation actually meant “free for all.” It was there for the taking ’grab what you can; if you don’t, you have only yourself to blame.’ I won’t delve into the history of this not-so-Free State, as that would require a write-up of its own. The Congo Free State later became Belgian Congo; upon gaining flag independence, it was named Congo Léopoldville, then Congo Kinshasa, then Zaire, and now, thanks to Laurent Kabila, the Democratic Republic of the Congo. “Democratic” is just as ironic as “Free” was in the Congo Free State. To be honest, no one would disagree that the only democracy in Congo exists in its name, like how plenty of thieves, murderers, and rapists are named Innocent. Who is to blame? God or leaders? More than a decade ago, I attended a multilateral meeting at the Africa, Caribbean, and Pacific (ACP) Group in Brussels. At the end of the meeting, there was some swallowship, a cocktail gathering. Swallowship has a magical way of relaxing people from different political divides. After a few glasses of wine, I clicked with a delegate from the Democratic Republic of the Congo named Muhindo—partly influenced by the wine, but also because I was able to identify which part of DR Congo he was from and his ethnic group. As we talked about politics in the Great Lakes region, he cracked a joke: Écoutes, mon frère (Listen, my brother), After God created the earth, He began distributing resources. He gave Congo gold, diamonds, uranium, forests, fish, everything you can think of. He continued, The angels couldn’t believe God was being so unfair, so they asked, ‘Lord, how can You give so much to one country? What about the others?’ And God replied, ‘Just wait and see what kind of leaders I will give them.’ Leaders or Scapegoats? Ask any politician in Kinshasa why such a rich country remains so poor, and the answer will be: It’s Kagame. According to DR Congo’s leaders—from Mobutu to Kabila I and II, and now Tshisekedi—Kagame is the problem. He is the equivalent of Nedolyva, the Slavic goddess of misfortune, who governed the unlucky fates of mortals. Ancient Slavs believed she controlled adversity and hardships, weaving fragile threads of misfortune that determined one’s fate from birth. Tshisekedi, whose main credential is that his father served as Mobutu’s prime minister for three terms, attributes all of the DR Congo’s problems that began 13 years before he was even born to Kagame, who at that time was just a five-year-old child! According to Congo’s leaders, Kagame is Nedolyva reincarnate. But the truth is, anyone who believes their misfortunes and solutions are entirely controlled by someone else will never get out of the hole they are in. When will Uhuru come to an end? When I was a student at Makerere University, one lecture that all students—whether they were medical, engineering, or social science students like me loved was Prof. Mamdani’s public lectures. At one such lecture, he amused us with a story about a political science researcher in Zaire. After asking a local peasant many questions, the peasant turned to him and asked, “Now tell me, colonialism came to an end, when will this Uhuru come to an end?” To this day, the peasant’s question remains unanswered. For in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Uhuru (freedom) has been just as oppressive as colonialism—two sides of the same evil coin. And for Rwandophone Congolese, Uhuru has been even more of a nightmare than colonialism. At least under colonial rule, Kinyarwanda speakers were oppressed like everyone else, but they were not singled out as targets. To quote the Kenyan literature professor Francis Imbuga’s play Betrayal in the City, a major character, having failed to find a solution, simply remarks: When mankind suffers together, the individual does not suffer. In colonial Belgian Congo, all Congolese suffered together. But in the Uhuru period, suffering has become targeted at specific communities. The question is: Should the targeted communities simply accept their fate? Once again, I turn to the same play: When the madness of an entire nation disturbs a solitary mind, it is not enough to say that the man is mad. To be continued.
