One day, Burundi, the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), and Rwanda may tell Belgium in unison: “Thanks for your love. Leave us alone. We’ve had enough of your facade of lies.” Since the Berlin Conference of 1884–1885, countless meetings have been hosted in Western capitals to deliberate on Africa’s peace, security, and development. Often, these gatherings have brought together former colonies and their colonisers. Among them, few sound more appealing than La Semaine Africaine—“African Week.” From February 15 to 22, 2003, Belgium organised the first such event, initiated by then–Foreign Minister Louis Michel. Its stated aim was to mobilise Belgium’s 107 municipalities to help end the suffering of the people of the Great Lakes Region. The week opened with a star-studded concert and ended with a gala dinner attended by Presidents Pierre Buyoya of Burundi and Joseph Kabila of the DR Congo. Only President Paul Kagame of Rwanda declined the invitation. According to Belgium’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the proceeds were meant to fund projects supporting children in Burundi, DR Congo, and Rwanda. On the surface, the initiative looked like an act of love. But was it? Or was it, as some of us argue, merely a facade of lies? At the conclusion of the week, a joint declaration—L’Engagement de Bruxelles was signed by Belgian Prime Minister Guy Verhofstadt and leaders from the three Great Lakes countries. Yet history and facts, as President Kagame reminded the world during the 20th Commemoration of the Genocide against the Tutsi in 2014, are stubborn: “People cannot be bribed or forced into changing their history. And no country is powerful enough, even when they think they are, to change the facts.” And the facts point to Belgium’s darker role in the region: The 1961 assassination of Patrice Lumumba, DR Congo’s first Prime Minister, carried Belgium’s fingerprints. His love for his country outweighed theirs. In Rwanda, King Mutara III Rudahigwa’s mysterious death in 1959 was tied to Belgian authorities. His father, King Yuhi V Musinga, had already been deposed and exiled by Belgium, dying in Congo in 1944. To this day, his remains lie in Brussels without Rwanda’s consent. Belgium has continued to fund organisations such as CLIIR (led by Joseph Matata) and Jambo ASBL, groups notorious for genocide denial—an unmistakable signal that Brussels seeks to embolden extremists who were defeated by the Rwandan Patriotic Army in 1994. Burundi’s Prime Minister, Prince Louis Rwagasore, was assassinated in 1961, just days after being sworn in. Though a Greek national was executed for the crime, Belgian archives strongly suggest Brussels’ involvement. The list goes on. Even Belgium’s colonial records confirm the Tutsi chiefs’ authority over North Kivu, yet today, Brussels looks away as violence engulfs Congolese communities speaking Kinyarwanda. The shadow of 1994 looms again over eastern Congo. Scholars such as Professor Elias Sentamba have argued that Belgium owes reparations to the region—whether through apologies or investments in hospitals, schools, and infrastructure. Yet even genuine reparations cannot restore lives lost or undo the pain inflicted. The real solution lies in sovereignty. For the Great Lakes Region to secure peace and dignity, Belgium must step aside and let its former colonies chart their own futures. Rwanda has already set the precedent. Burundi and the DR Congo must now find leaders with the courage to do the same—leaders who place their people’s interests above Brussels’ influence. Only then, in unison, can these nations say: “Thanks for your love. But we’ve had enough of your facade of lies.”
