Discovering Kiziba Refugee Camp

Editor's note: This the third in a three-part series by Colony High School student Katelyn Baldwin about her experiences spent in Africa this summer.

By KATELYN BALDWIN-Special to the Frontiersman

If there was ever a place in Africa where the inhabitants survived fairly well on the bare necessities of life, it would be Kiziba Refugee Camp.

In the center of eastern Africa,14,000 Congolese refugees are crammed onto 27 hectares of land. Some refer to it as their safe haven. With continued armed conflict in the Democratic Republic of Congo (Zaire) thousands are forced to flee their homes in exchange for their lives.

Being a refugee puts one into a state of mind that bears heavy on the spirit, as refugees are never quite sure of what tomorrow will bring. Whether they will ever venture home or not is always a question. All they know is that at their present location, the bloodshed and racial hate which drove them away from their families and lives is no longer raining down on them. Kiziba Refugee Camp is out of harm's way. It is a place where people who would have been persecuted in their countries can flee to, by pleading political asylum at the Rwandan border.

Located in Kibuye, a moderate town in diminutive Rwanda, the refugee camp borders Zaire by way of Lake Kivu. When informed we would be in the country, Kagaba Saidi, the camp director, offered to take me and some of my traveling companions around Kiziba for the day to show us how the refugees lived life.

It took over an hour to travel the 15 kilometers of narrow and winding road to the site, as it was covered in immense pot holes. Saidi's driver took us up the steep mountain in a Land Rover. Throughout the duration of our ride I questioned Saidi on what we were soon to experience. I expected to walk into a TV commercial for Save the Children, where dozens of miserable kids would stare at me with their sad eyes and beg for help, leaving me in the disheartening position of vowing to somehow change their lives for the better. What I found was not what I had anticipated.

Built seven years ago, different organizations support the various aspects of the camp. The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) oversees the coordination of several non-governmental organizations (NGOs) who in turn organize the different departments within the refugee camp. The American Refugee Committee International (ARC), for whom Saidi worked, provides the shelter, water, and sanitation in the camp. The Jesuit Refugee Service (JRC) takes care of education, African Humanitarian Action (AHA) takes care of health, German Technical Cooperation (GTZ) takes care of vehicle maintenance and transport, and a Canadian organization by name of Right to Play oversees the recreation in the camp. There are representatives from each NGO in Rwanda who meet regularly to coordinate with one another.

The process for becoming a refugee includes surviving an arduous crossing of borders. Some Congolese, finding life in their home country too distressing and dangerous to continue, have trekked over 400 miles to reach a refugee camp. The weak do not survive the strenuous journey. Upon reaching the Rwandan border, they plead political asylum. The Rwandan immigration officers drive them in trucks into the capital city of Kigali where necessary medical attention is given. From there, many are transported to Kiziba or Gihembe Refugee Camp where they begin their new lives.

Kiziba Refugee Camp is hundreds of russet buildings, closely crammed together, monopolizing the top part of a large hill. Upon entering the site, the lack of vegetation becomes apparent. There is absolutely no green. The camp is hard-packed with dirt from thousands of feet pounding down upon it for over seven years. During the rainy season refugee workers dig trenches for the rainwater, but the fine-grained red clay making up the soil still gets slick when wet. Only a few tattered looking goats and chickens roam pitifully amid the dirt.

I noticed a group of 50-60 workers hoeing an area that I was informed would ultimately be a recreation area for the children, funded by Right to Play. The workers hoeing the land are paid $1 a day for breaking up the densely packed clumps of soil, proportionate to the lower class wage in Kigali.

Each house, separated by a narrow alleyway of three feet, fits approximately eight people. There is just enough room for them to sleep in a combination of bunk beds and on the floor. The camp provides the framework for each individual house, but the people living there are expected to fill in and build up the mud walls, as well as keep up the house's maintenance for the duration of their stay. Sanitation is a problem with such a dense amount of people in a confined space.

Refugees who have been in the camp for an extended period of time rise in hierarchal status and gain a management sort of position. They walk around and check each house for cleanliness; if an epidemic were to break out it would be devastating and kill thousands.

Saidi took us up a long ladder onto a small platform just large enough for the six of us to fit onto. As we glanced down upon our incredible surroundings, he explained how the water situation was handled. Clean water is one of the most crucial aspects of a well-functioning refugee camp. Kiziba, unlike many refugee camps, is able to provide to its people a limited amount of clean water for washing and drinking. Water is obtained through a gravity feed system that is filtered at its source 4 kilometers away. Clorox and iodine help purify the water. Kiziba maintains support from its neighbors by sharing its water with the local villages. Throughout the camp, no one has to walk more than 100 meters to reach a water spigot.

Next we visited the medical facilities. The outpatient clinic was extremely basic and bare to the bones. The patient rooms were all small and dark, separated by long pieces of fabric. There is no electricity at Kiziba except for an emergency generator in the hospital. The hospital staff had a friendly and confident manner they behaved in. Many people who come to the clinic don't need medical attention, but need mental care because of the traumatic events they have been through. Kiziba is able to provide only limited psychiatric and emotional therapy.

The maternity ward had eight beds, and a couple of mothers proudly showed us their skinny newborns. Due to their cultural beliefs, only one percent of the women use birth control. Sixty babies a month are born in sparsely furnished delivery rooms containing a table and some wooden stirrups. Yearly birth records consist of random scraps of paper tacked onto the wall, with clumsy bar graphs recording the numbers of births per month.

In another section of the medical clinic, to determine the weight of malnourished children, the nurses would wrap them in burlap bags and weigh them from the ceiling like a large sack of vegetables. Numerous 100-pound sacks of maize and soy meal, cooked up for the severely malnourished, were labeled as coming from Switzerland. Foreign donations contribute enormously to the success of a

refugee camp.

Kiziba is very privileged to have schooling facilities. All primary classes for children up to age 12 are taught by refugee teachers. The camp is able to provide teachers for forms 1-3 (grades 7-9), but in order for children to complete forms 4-6 they must find sponsors. Kiziba's whole supply of teaching material consists of a bookshelf crudely placed against a far wall, barely filled with roughly 30 outdated and dusty French textbooks. The classroom we saw seated 55 on simple benches in a big empty room with no chalkboard. What the refugees have is so minimal compared to American schools.

Every time I exited the Land Rover, children would swarm around me and stare with excitement illuminating their youthful faces. Brave little boys and girls would step forward and come up to shake my hand or give me a hug, this being the first time some of them had ever seen a white person. My braces, thought of as magnificent tooth jewels, were a big hit with the children who would giggle and talk amongst themselves with enthusiasm whenever I smiled. Their toys were balls made out of discarded vegetable material, bound together with sticks, twine, and rubber bands.

Saidi informed me that sometimes when visitors come to the camp, the children will deflate their vehicle tires in order to make them stay longer. Day after day and year after year of living so closely on 66 acres gets quite repetitive and tedious, especially for the young tikes, who enjoy some company now and then.

As the weeks go by and I think about the more recent rebel activity in Liberia, my Rwandan experience gives a new meaning to the numbers of victims. One incident transforms from 32 dead civilians, to 32 children, mothers and fathers who were ripped apart from their families and killed as innocents in warfare that shouldn't exist in the first place.

Refugee camps are communities unto themselves. Families and individuals depend on each other for support and survival. Imagine leaving your life, neighbors, family, and possessions behind and fleeing hundreds of miles across borders. To reach a place of safety the expatriates must leave all that it known and essentially their future, in the past.

Refugees are living temporarily. The camp they stay in is merely a base to aid in the search for a new home. There are more than 39 million refugees worldwide. Included in that number is a substantial amount of displaced persons, who are essentially refugees that have not crossed any borders.

Visiting Kiziba Refugee Camp was an overwhelming experience. What touched me most was the love of life that emanated from the people. The generosity and caring between those who have so little is truly moving. I gained a perspective not possible from media or books, but one that comes about when you are thousands of miles away from your home, holding the hand of a beaming little boy who knows nothing of Tonka Trucks or Lego's.