By Dele Momodu
Fellow Nigerians, I
finally found my way to Kigali, Rwanda, two weeks ago. I had
procrastinated and postponed that journey for too long, for no
justifiable reason. I visit Nairobi quite regularly and could easily
have travelled to Rwanda, as part of my trip, but it never happened
because for once, I simply did not put my mind to it. My interest in
Rwanda had been stirred by recent news and events in that country for
some years now. I had heard and read so much about the amazing
transformation going on in a country that witnessed one of the deadliest
civil wars in 1994, just about the time Nigeria was going through the
June 12, 1993 Presidential election crisis. Today, Rwanda has virtually
recovered physically, even if not psychologically, from the scourge of
that tragic, destructive and devastating war but our dear beloved
country Nigeria is yet to come out of the after-effect of the political
imbroglio which culminated in the death of the two prime actors in the
June 12 1993 aftermath, Chief MKO Abiola and General Sani Abacha.
My
decision to travel eventually came from a simple flight from Accra to
Lagos on RwandAir a few weeks ago. Sorry if I’m advertising the airline
but I was pleasantly surprised to fly such a beautiful and brand new
A330-200 aircraft belonging to a national carrier of a country that had
been so ravaged by an internecine war . The crew was extremely warm,
courteous and dutiful. There was no sign amongst them of the tribal
warfare that had almost practically sunk and sucked the country into the
abyss. They were all smiles and interacted with one another like
brother and sister. It was a remarkable throwback to Nigeria of
yesteryears when there was no distrust or enmity between us even though
we faithfully clung to our tribal groupings. Back to Rwandair! The food
was excellent for a 45-minute flight. The journey was smooth and the
timing was spot on, unlike our epileptic airlines, where interminable
delay is the order of the day.
That was it. I was sold instantly
on the Rwandan magic. I needed to experience first-hand what had changed
and was making these people tick and preform near miracles in the
reconstruction and rejuvenation of their beloved country. I wasted no
time in calling my ever-dependable travel agent, I call her Mrs A, and
she booked me from Lagos to Kigali, Kigali to Johannesburg, Johannesburg
to Kigali and Kigali to Lagos. To my surprise, the fare was very
reasonable and affordable. I made up my mind to explore Africa more than
anywhere else this year with this Airlie and other African Airlines
like Kenyan Airways and Ehtiopian Airways who also have a very good
fleet of aircraft and dependable and reliable service and safety
history. It is a big shame that most of us have flown too many times to
Europe, America and Asia but know practically nowhere in Africa. For as
long as RwandAir remains efficient and affordable, I will remain its
self-appointed Ambassador.
The appointed day was very soon upon
me. I had no anxieties when packing and preparing for the trip as I
often have when flying abroad with some of our Nigerian airlines. The
flight from Lagos to Kigali was wonderful. It arrived with some
passengers from Accra and picked those of us from Nigeria. We flew for a
little under four hours. The Business class was not very full despite
the fact that some Access Bank executives were on the flight for their
retreat in Kigali. RwandAir needs maximum publicity to market such a
fantastic brand. I love the availability of WiFi during the flight. Some
major international airlines, including the much vaunted British
Airways, are yet to have these feature on their flights yet those
managing RwandAir have seen the vision and realise that this is one of
the ways to enhance the travel experience of their passengers. I am very
active on social media and was able to communicate and update my social
media accounts throughout the flight thus ensuring that I missed out on
nothing during the entire flight. There was never a shortage of
champagne, but I indulged a bit requesting for one glass only before
reclining and stretching out to catch a much-needed nap.
The
announcement by the Captain woke me up and brought me back to reality as
we started our descent into Kigali. The crew went through the usual
ritual of getting the cabins ready for landing. In minutes the massive
plane opened it flaps and landed perfectly. The plane taxied to its
parking bay in the small airport. The door was swung open, by the crew
and not by unknown forces, and we were told we could disembark. I was
the first to leave, anxious to get to my hotel. I approached the
Immigration counters and was invited by an officer who granted me visa
on arrival. The visa cost 30 US Dollars and the process was easy and
smooth. No one requested for tonnes of documentation or any
gratification to get what was clearly my entitlement. I went to the
luggage claims area after passing my handbags through x-ray machine. I
picked my suitcases and put them on a trolley which was free of charge.
DJ
Cuppy and I had spoken before my trip and she had mentioned a few good
hotels to try. I readily settled for the Marriott Kigali. I walked out
of the airport and located a taxi rank. I got a driver in little time
and we drove to the hotel about 25 minutes away. I did not regret my
choice. The hotel was reasonably priced and very comfy. I had a quick
check-in, showered and went straight to bed.
I woke up in the
morning to enjoy a sumptuous breakfast. I hired a car to take a tour of
Kigali and enjoyed taking in the atmosphere of a battered but recovered
nation. After two nights, I headed to South Africa and landed at about
2a.m. By 3a.m, I was in my hotel in Sandton. No unnecessary argument
with the front desk officer, I was granted early check-in. Elsewhere, I
would have been punished for arriving too early and advised to wait till
3p.m. but South Africa understands tourism.
I settled to my
meetings in Johannesburg and spent my two days well. One of my plans was
to meet the aging and ailing Winnie Mandela, one of the greatest icons
of the anti-apartheid struggle. Thanks to my friends, Ms Cebo Hlatshwayo
and Mr Malcolm X, an appointment was arranged pronto. I had met Winnie
Mandela about 14 years ago at the 70th birthday of Chief Gabriel Osawaru
Igbinedion and remain one of her biggest fans till this day. We were
minutes to her home in Soweto when we received a call that she was being
rushed to hospital. What a shame, I soliloquised. We decided to go to a
nearby restaurant to sample some local cuisine. I was humbled when
Winnie called Malcolm from hospital just to offer her apologies to me.
She promised to see me before flying out that night if the doctors
released her to go home. Winnie kept her word and we met for about 30
minutes before I headed to the Oliver Tambo Airport to catch my flight
back to Kigali.
There is so much happening in Africa that I hope
to capture in the books I’m working on. The story of Rwanda is one that I
believe every Nigerian should study and understand well. It seems we
did not learn much from our own civil war experience. At the rate, and
the way, Nigeria is going, we need special prayers not to go the way of
Rwanda. In case the story of Rwanda is strange to you, please, allow me
to give you a quick summary. The genocide that rocked Rwanda is better
left to the imagination. Like all pogroms the world over, it started
with one ethnic group hating the other, in this case the Hutus hated the
Tutsis with so much passion and venom. It is always difficult to
determine the source or cause of such monumental dislike for a fellow
human being. The situation gets worse when leaders who should discourage
such malady actually encourage and partake in the orgy of violence.
In
Rwanda, the Hutu were said to have had a pathological hatred for the
Tutsi. I stumbled on the Hutu Commandments and I had goose bumps all
over me. I wondered why anyone would hate another being in such ungodly
manner. Let me share some with you:
“All Hutus must know that the
Tutsi woman wherever she may be, is serving the Tutsi ethnic group. In
consequence, any Hutu who does the following is a traitor:
acquires a Tutsi wife
acquires a Tutsi mistress
acquires a Tutsi secretary or dependent
All
Hutus must know that our Hutu daughters are more worthy and more
conscientious in their role of woman, spouse and mother. Are they not
more beautiful, good secretaries and more sincere!
Hutu women, be vigilant and bid your husbands, brothers and sons to come to their senses.
All Hutus must know the Tutsi is dishonest in business. His only goal is ethnic superiority…”
Now, as if this is not bad enough, wait for this, my dear reader:
“In consequence, any Hutu who does the following is a traitor:
whoever makes an alliance with Tutsi in business
whoever invests his money or state money in a Tutsi company
whoever lends money or borrows it from a Tutsi
whoever grants favours to Tutsi in business (granting of import license, bank loans, building parcel, public tender offers…)
The strategic political, administrative, economical, military and security positions must be reserved for Hutu.
The education (students, teachers) must be of Hutu majority.
The
Rwandan Armed Forces must be exclusively Hutu. The war experience in
1990 teaches us this lesson. No military man should marry a Tutsi
woman…”
This was how the Hutu clan brainwashed their own people.
Isn’t this similar to what is going on in our own country? Politicians
daily regale us with their predilection for restructuring on the basis
of primordial tribal sentiments when the restructuring that this country
needs is on a political, social and economic front, devoid of religious
or ethnic considerations.
Anyway, Rwanda exploded as the
warmongering protagonists had wished and in no time, a million lives
were wasted by blood-sucking bigots and jingoists.
I was stunned
when I visited the genocide museum. It brought home the grim reality of
war in a way in which history books, documentaries and other works of
art can never do. We must commend the government and people of Rwanda
for preserving this important moment in the country’s history. Emmanuel,
my driver, brought the reality home when he blatantly refused to enter
the museum. I asked him why and his response was that “I have both my
parents there…” I didn’t understand him at first. I thought they worked
in the place. I prodded further, and he told me sadly that he lost his
parents to the senseless war and they are buried in that museum. Perhaps
if our country had preserved some of the relics and experiences of the
Civil War that almost nearly tore us apart and led to millions of
deaths, we would not be beating down what we should realise is a
well-trodden path to destruction and perdition.
I had tears in my
eyes as I toured the well-kept monument. The tears were not only for
Rwanda but for the unseen future of my country where ignorance and our
unique ability to lose sight of history is leading us to a ruinous date
with the destiny of war. My fervent prayer continues to be that reason
and good leadership will prevail in Nigeria, and we will be brought away
from the brink of the grave disaster, that our foolhardy leaders appear
to be steering us towards. I bought many books, in fact every book
written in English. It is one important history I cannot afford to
ignore or forget. The lessons are of flaws in humanity leading to a
human calamity. Those who are beating the drums of war should please
cool temper. They will probably be the first to flee and disappear when
the first shots of battle ring out. It is the ordinary man, woman and
child that will suffer the most.
Indeed, war is never a tea party …
http://thebossnewspapers.com/pendulum-before-nigeria-goes-the-way-of-rwanda/
