Congolese Urban Refugees - Where Have They Come From?

Over two months into this blog and I have not written anything about the Congolese or refugees. I think that's because all my musings about Kibera life are clearly the thoughts of an amateur Kiberan - I'm not claiming to be an expert. But since it is now my job to know about urban refugees and where they have come from I am more cautious about publicizing my theories. This post does not necessarily represent the views of the Xavier Project etc...

The Congolese in Nairobi and Kampala, as a whole, a exquisitely well dressed. They generally speak French far more fluently than an average East African speaks English. They have a refined taste in food (inherited from the Belgians?) and music. When asked about Congolese politics they can give a running commentary (that could be running late by about a week) accompanied with a balanced analysis (usually tinged in grey overtones).

Typical Congolese outfit

Congolese urban refugees will sacrifice everything to maintain their image and uphold their culture. They will even go hungry if it means they can still look smart. They are also very proud when it comes to taking up menial or manual labour, and they may prefer to talk outside their house than invite you in to see how small it is. But why are they so proud?

The vast majority of urban refugees in Kampala and Nairobi were town dwellers themselves in DRC, most probably from Goma or Bukavu. As urbanites when they realised they had to flee Congo they were more likely to want to seek out another urban setting - the refugee camps in East Africa suit those used to subsistence farming and urban Congolese may have lost the skills necessary to survive in this environment. Many of them may have had contacts in East African capitals and some of them would even have done business there in the past before their fortunes changed. Particularly in Nairobi it is very unlikely that a Congolese refugee would have made the long journey there from Eastern DRC unless someone who was already there had persuaded them that they would be well looked after when they arrived.This is supported by research by Refuge Point that shows that refugees are often best off when they first arrive because of such a strong support network and resources that they have brought with them from home.

This point leads me on to my observations from Congo over New Year. There is a group of Congolese elites who  congregate in the cities and they are rich. In Goma fuel guzzling 4x4's weave in and out of six bedroom mansions, and everyone seems to have at least one beer at lunch, costing them $4 a pop.  In Congo, possibly more than anywhere else, your wealth does not depend on your merits, but on who you know and who you are on side with. If you know the right people you can get very rich in totally unfair ways, without recrimination, or seemly even any scruples from your society. I met guys in Congo who told me they had gone from being penniless to earning over $10,000  in a week because they jumped onto a gold smuggling racket as temporary contractors (in their case transportation). There is plenty of money in Congo, and a lot of our urban refugees know that all too well because in many cases it used to be in their hands.

Rugari has the most exquisite setting - but the inhabitants have only militia groups to share the beauty with.

If you take the road out of Goma towards Rutshuru (an area in the news these days because of a frustrated coup led by Bosco Ntaganda) it doesn't take long for the road to disintegrate into rubble and scree. Here there is a village called Rugari inhabited by 2000 rural folk -  subsistence farmers and their families. They are doomed to a cycle of illiteracy due to the total absence of education and of course they never manage to get in with 'the right people' who can give them the key to the pot of gold. Recently they have spent their lives hiding in IDP camps for years at a time before cautiously making their way back to their ancestral homes, only to be chased off by another incoherent rebel group. Rugarians who fled to Uganda will certainly have headed to the refugee camps run by the UN where everything is provided for them and they are given a plot of land from which to make a living. These are not the people we are working with in Kampala and Nairobi. Instead, we have the urban educated class who have been proud of their culture and their 'family connections' for generations. At some point however, they have joined the wrong side and have had to flee for fear of their lives. They have not fled as economic refugees but they are looking for security and often they are not used to having to work hard to make a living. Of course they are going to import their learned ways, their clothes, their food, their music and above all their Congolese pride.

One of our Congolese students, smartly turned out,
appreciating some Congolese music

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Unauthorised Observations of a Slum Tourist Part 2

Sundays in Kibera have an indescribably different ambience. Only then do the inhabitants live up to their cultural stereotype as strollers. On every other day Olympic high street is a danger zone filled with water-cart-pullers hissing for you to get out of the way and people literally running to work. On Sundays they are making their way casually to or from Church in outfits that make them unrecognizable from their everyday personas.

Eucharistic services in Kibera are moveable feasts. They can start early and end late and you can never really predict what stage you will come in at. I would put out there that most of the church goers who stay for the whole day are there for social reasons. In between the socialising though they can work themselves up into bursts of spiritual frenzy which can be heard from all directions as you stroll along the street.

Another demographic start their day in the chaang’a joints (Kenyan homebrew triple distilled) down by the river in Katwakera and migrate to the keg beer bars in Olympic when they open at 5 (a new rule). By 7 Garage Pub in Fort Jesus kicks off and the ding ding ding of the Luo songs can be heard by all around until Monday has arrived. As a result the peaceful meandering of Sunday morning evolves into madness by mid afternoon, a level of drunkenness which hands down beats anything that Friday or Saturday can offer.