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Freely Given, Apathetically Received

Freely Given, Apathetically Received

Timothy Kayera spoke with been-there-done-that confidence. He grew stronger with each word, pulling me closer with the fire of his conviction. And then he summarized everything I believe about charity. In four words.

I used to work with one of those organizations that gave stuff away to everyone. We’d give away animals, clothing and clean water. All for free. I remember when we’d give goats to people, I would get phone calls and they’d say, “Timothy, your goat is dead.”

Your goat is dead. I’ve tried to articulate this idea dozens of times over the years, but never this potently. In four words, the caller said:

  1. It was never his goat in the first place,
  2. It was inconsequential it died, and
  3. It was Timothy’s job to replace it.

Kayera is a star in Rwanda’s promising cast of young leaders. He directs HOPE’s efforts in a region of Rwanda and he emphasized the difference of his new job. His work now creates dignity, not dependency. Partnership, not pity. Timothy joins a chorus of Rwandans in this song, from the president of the country to “Rwanda’s Desmond Tutu.”

[The poor] are as capable, as competent, as gifted, and as talented as anyone else…In society, you must create opportunities to help people develop their capacity and talents. – Paul Kagame
We need to move from aid to production, from existing to living. It’s high time we stop telling our people they can’t do it. They can, yes. And we shall do it. – Bishop John Ruchyahana


Timothy, President Kagame and Bishop Ruchyahana share this opinion: Traditional charity erodes the nature of people and the fabric of society. When giveaways permeate, they communicate a clear message: What you lack, I provide. Where you are weak, I am strong. When you can’t, I can.
It’s a bad message, preventing people from hearing the better message from their Creator: I made you to make. I designed you to design. You are blessed to bless others. When charity runs its course—as it has in many places in Rwanda, Haiti and elsewhere—it lures the poor with handouts and traps them on unneeded life support.
But that’s why Timothy got out of that business. He saw its destructive path and cut the cord before it strangled. Today he anchors his work on who people are created to be and what we are designed to do. He doesn’t lure with goodies. Instead, he demands hard work from those he serves. People like Rachel.
I saw the future of Rwanda in her. Rachel showed me the house she built and the 16 pigs she purchased over the past two years. She showed me the litters of piglets she’s bred and the piles of fertilizer she sells. But Rachel isn’t filling her barns for herself. I asked her what her dreams are and she said, “The greatest joy of these pigs is that I am now able to share with my church and with others.”

Rachel


Rachel didn’t beg for cash or stoop in compliance. She stood tall as a confident merchant, wife and mother. She did not avert her gaze. Her eyes were strong and generous. Rachel wasn’t the product of charity. She simply knew who she was created to be.

Pangas into Plowshares

Pangas into Plowshares

They were the instrument of the genocide. Where gas chambers and grenades keep killing at arm’s length—detached and swift—pangas did just the opposite. Coarse and weighty, these machetes inflicted wounds by the sweat of their owner. To murder with a panga is like writing a letter with a feather pen. Slower and more personal, the genocidaires wielded these tragic blades:

[The planners of the genocide] directed the importation of hundreds of thousands of pangas and other “agricultural elements” like hoes, axes, scythes, and knives. The pangas alone were enough to arm every third adult male in the country. – Stephen Kinzer

Fear fueled the genocide. Radio DJs circled vitriolic warnings of a Tutsi uprising, stoking the Hutu majority to a preemptive “final solution” of the Tutsi threat. Genocidaires struck fear in their victims, deploying the foulest of tactics. Rape, torture, cannibalism and dismemberment accompanied the killers fatal attacks. Even more than guns could, their knives enflamed deep fear across the nation. The panga is the lasting icon of the bloodbath that stole the lives of over one million people.

Source: Google Images


When I arrived in Rwanda, I came with trepid excitement: Excited by the country’s newfound energy, but uneasy about unearthing its past. When I walked the halls of the genocide memorial in Kigali, I relived all the stories I’ve heard about the most-harrowing global event of my lifetime.
I ached for the thousands of fallen children and stumbled as I walked past the concrete vaults that hold the remains of over 250,000 victims. What struck me most, however, was the encasement of genocide weapons. Right in the center of the case were an assortment of pangas, all with haunting stories engraved into their cruel edges and worn handles.
Earlier in the week, I visited the great silverback mountain gorillas, Rwanda’s most-popular tourist attraction. They lived up to their high billing. I stood within touching distance of several 400-lb beasts. No bars or concrete moats kept me from these beautiful wild animals, however. We watched them in their habitat and allowed them to wander among our group.
The gorillas don’t wander the streets of Rwanda. Befitting their name, these mountain gorillas live high in the jungles. We trekked through thick woods and scaled steep terrain to find them. As we came close to our destination, our capable and effervescent guide, Bernice, cleared the final steps of our path. With each smooth swipe of her machete, she widened our trail till we reached our journey’s end.
Pangas still exist in Rwanda, an unpleasant reminder of the darkest days. But as I watched Bernice brandish her panga, she buoyed my countenance. A tool once used for violence now frees the path for tourism, beauty and prosperity. These guides, pangas in their hands, mean over $250M in tourism revenue, the primary industry in Rwanda’s upstart economy.
As visitors from across the globe flow into the country in search of a glimpse of these mighty creatures, pangas clear the way. The chosen tool of the genocide, once used for atrocities, now a bold symbol of the vibrant new Rwanda.

The Zero Network

The Zero Network

In hushed voices, a swath of national leaders orchestrated the Rwandan genocide. Labeling themselves the Zero Network, Rwandan powerbrokers crafted their “final solution” to reduce the number of Rwandan Tutsis to zero. I’ve always assumed some sort of horrific groupthink or terror contagion struck Rwanda in 1994. I’ve believed that a few bad guys escalated an ethnic conflict into a catastrophe.
But I couldn’t have been more wrong. There was nothing haphazard, surprising, or accidental about the Rwandan genocide. It didn’t slowly evolve and wasn’t a civil-war-turned-ugly. The genocidaires murdered one million humans with the precision that a builder constructs to a blueprint:

It was a careful and long-prepared plan to destroy a people. Press reports at the end of 1994 were still talking about a country losing its sanity, but that is too simplistic an analysis. What happened in Rwanda was premeditated murder. – Hugh McCullum in A Thousand Hills

Théoneste Bagosora, popularly known as “the colonel of death,” led a group of government and military leaders that planned–down to every last hut (really)–how they would exterminate the Tutsi people. They trained thousands of  Hutu boys how to chop people to death with pangas (machetes they ordered from the French). They lulled international superpowers like the UN and the United States into believing they were working toward peace.
But when the genocide started, it was evident that Bagosara’s ominous forewarning of a “second apocalypse” was understated. The radio announcers stoked the lethal rage, evidencing just how very un-accidental this event was.

Our enemy is one! We know him, he is the Tutsi! …Kill Tutsi in their homes, their parents and their children–and don’t forget the unborn fetuses!

In the end, the Zero Network accomplished 80% of their plan of killing all 1.2 million Tutsis. And just 18 years later, astoundingly, Rwanda is one of the most hopeful countries on the planet.

Hôtel des Mille Collines (aka Hotel Rwanda)


It’s my first visit to Rwanda and I’m stuck. I’m stuck between the horrors of the genocide and the optimism of an upstart nation. I can’t seem to reconcile the tragedy of the past with the promise of the future. This morning, I reflected on this tension while a group of eight Rwandan orphans led us in song. In their eyes I saw both pain and resolve. And as I worshiped with them, I came to a sense of peace about being stuck. They were too. Harrowed, but moving forward. Wounded, but not fatally. Pained, but steadied. Out of their deep affliction, the people of Rwanda carve a new path.

Combating the Saplings

Combating the Saplings

Attending a Saturday morning tree-planting demonstration does not appeal to the masses. But it appealed to this arbor nerd. I enrolled with vigor, anxious to learn how to properly plant a maple in the dry Coloradan soil. The instructors harped on the dangers of tree staking and overwatering. But it turned especially riveting when the topic turned to pruning. Our affable instructor shifted to a somber tone and lowered his voice almost to a whisper, like a lieutenant preparing his troops for a ruthless adversary:

Trees in Colorado want to become bushes. And if given the opportunity to do so, that is exactly what they’ll do. It is easier for them to grow wide instead of tall. Simply stated, it’s your job to not let that happen.

For a tree to push nutrients from the roots to the farthest branches is hard work. It is more energy-intensive than simply pushing through saplings near the root system. Trees circumvent the strenuous work by taking the short route (if allowed to do so). I began to see this evidenced in lawns and parks across the city. Like trees with no trunks, these poor plants suffered stunting of unsightly varieties. They did not blossom into stately sycamores or flowering poplars. Instead, they appeared trapped between life as a tree and life as a shrub.

Not long after the seminar I had my own showdown with “suckers,” these sapling-sprouts that aimed to alter the trajectory of my silver maple. Armed with the pruning artillery to bring the foe to justice, I made quick work of the intruders. And today those trees are on the path to maturity.
Next week, Alli and I board a flight for our first visit to Rwanda. Rwanda suffered one of the gravest tragedies of our lifetimes. The genocide of 1994 nearly sunk the African nation that was already plagued with poverty. But it was at this rock-bottom moment when the Rwandan people averted the paths chosen by many of their neighbors. Where elsewhere corruption and racism were given the freedom to flourish, Rwanda’s leaders pruned them aggressively.

Source: Viriginia Tech University

Today Rwanda surges into a nation of opportunity. Like a tree unencumbered by growth-inhibiting suckers, Rwanda stands tall. Prime ministers, dictators, and aristocrats watch astonishingly as poverty rates plummet and business investment soars. Through clear and aggressive reform, Rwanda is free to flourish. And it is beautiful to observe. Yes, pruning work still remains, but there is no denying the identity of this country. It is not to be confused with the failing states that border it. Rwanda is a thriving tree, on the course to becoming what its people want her to be.