The story I tell was told in Hotel Rwanda

Rwanda’s Genocide-Democratic-Refugees War: The “I don’t hear the sound of bullets”: Refugees’ Futures Uncertain

Despite growing humanitarian need and the recent increase in fighting between the M23 rebels and the government in the mineral-rich area, there is very little sign that the conflict will end soon.

The UN and the United States condemned the support of M23 by Rwanda. Paul Kagame, the President of Rwanda, asserts his country’s right to protect itself from regional violence.

What they can’t do, though, is change what’s happening across the border, in eastern Congo. The change will require a response from the international community.

“This will require a collective responsibility, especially the international community. I don’t expect a lot of work if they leave it alone.

And it’s not just livelihoods that have been upended, Rusanjonga says there are emotional scars, too: “Some women here were raped. Some women came pregnant after being raped. These are the stories I hear every day.

“Many of the people here, their houses back in DRC were burned, were destroyed. Even if it ends today, they have nowhere to go back anyway,” he said. “If they go back, they have to start from zero.”

The challenges faced by the people who flee the violence in eastern Congo and come here, to the transit camp, are daunting, Rusanjonga said, their futures uncertain.

Source: ‘I don’t hear the sound of bullets’: At this camp in Rwanda, people find some peace

“I don’t hear the sound of bullets’: At a camp in Rwanda, people find some peace,” says David Rusanjonga

“I’m happy now that I’m here. She said she had a good night of sleep last night, and that she was given food, a blanket and a mat to sleep on. I don’t hear any sounds of gunfire, or bullets.

“When they took the cows, I thought, ‘It’s over,'” she said, speaking through a translator. Next time, it won’t be the cows. I thought they’d come for me and my children.

David Rusanjonga said that twothirds of the population was under the age of 17 at the camp that is on the Rwanda side of the border with the Democratic Republic of Congo. Many of them arrived without their parents.

Kids laying on foam mattresses, stacked on the rocky ground. Kids peeking out in curiosity from behind one of the long, semi-permanent shelters where they live. Kids singing, loudly, inside a big structure where they attend school.

Source: ‘I don’t hear the sound of bullets’: At this camp in Rwanda, people find some peace

“I don’t hear the sound of bullets’: A Rwandan genocide democratic republic of Congo refugees’ war,” said Rusanjonga

The children separated from their parents and don’t know where they are, Rusanjonga said. “They don’t know whether they’re alive or not. Sometimes, by chance, parents come later, they get unified.”

Life in the region has changed as a result of violence. Aid groups, including the U.N. Refugee Agency, warn of a severe humanitarian crisis. The US thinks the conflict may spill over into a full regional war.

People at this camp live in semi-permanent shelters with what looks like corrugated metal roofs and doors, and walls made of white, plastic sheeting. Rusanjonga told us that the plastic was designed to last for six months. Some of them had been there for over a year.

Sometimes, not often, but sometimes we get people without a blanket to offer. “The majority of the people here have no mattresses. They sleep on mats on the floor, and this is a very rocky environment.”

Source: ‘I don’t hear the sound of bullets’: At this camp in Rwanda, people find some peace

Born in the wilderness: A visit to a Ugandan prison for exercising freedom of expression in the 21st century and a realization of her father’s legacy

She is from Masisi, in the North Kivu province of the eastern Democratic Republic of Congo. Initially, she fled to Goma. But she said she was told that she might not be safe there, due to her family’s ethnic ties.

There was a temporary structure in which we met Natalia Kamariza. She was wrapped in a purple and yellow plaid blanket, and it was raining.

When I spent a few years in a Rwandan prison, it was for exercising my freedom of expression, and I don’t know why I haven’t spoken about it yet. It has been a long year of physical and emotional recovery that has allowed me finally to put pen to paper again, and I expect the healing process will last the rest of my life.