Gatumba

Impressions from my first visit to Gatumba and Burundian border with the Democratic Republic of Congo ...



Today, I drove with one of my Burundian friends to Gatumba, a little Burundian town right at the border with the Democratic Republic of Congo. The border is only around 20km away from Bujumbura. Buja already stretches almost to the outskirts of Gatumba, which will probably sooner or later be incorporated into Buja. I did not realize how close the border was.

The town of Gatumba prompts tragic memories. The small border town has been the theater of many cross-border attacks and massacres during the different crises that have hit Burundi. So I have to admit that I drove to the border with a little uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. But, in the end, it is a small and normal Burundian town.

After passing Gatumba, we continued towards the border. At the Burundian side, we just saw three Burundians in casual clothes sitting under a tree and enjoying the shadow. My Burundian friend explained to them that I just wanted to cross the border for the sake of crossing it. Even though, I forgot my passport, they said I could cross the little bridge separating the Burundian and Congolese territory. But once, we crossed the small, unstable metallic bridge, the Congolese authorities, dressed in formal uniforms, sent me right back to Burundi stressing that I needed a visa to enter the country.

On the way back, I ask my Burundian friend, if we could take a little walk through Gatumba. At first, a little hesitant, my Burundian friend parked the car and we took a little walk through the town. On our walk, many children joined us. They shouted ‘Muzungu’ and just wanted to touch me. My Burundian friend explained to me that these children hardly see a white person in their neighborhood. At same point, we passed a Burundian woman, who would say something to the children in Kirundi. My Burundian friend explained to me that she told the children to go home. Otherwise they would be taken away by the ‘Muzungu’. But the children would not stop following me. When we got back to the main road, I told my friend that it would be better for them to go home since there was traffic. My friend told them what I said in Kirundi and they would all go back home.

After our trip to Gatumba, my Burundian friend, a former Hutu refugee, showed me around Kamenge, a predominantly Hutu neighborhood and one of the most densely populated neighborhoods in Bujumbura. I would look down some of the streets and I would just see people and no road.