Traces
T r a c e s
My witness experiences of the political crisis in Burundi April 2015, confronted me with the limits to understanding violent conflict. After I left Burundi, I felt I could understand even less what was happening.
For a long time, it remained unsafe to return to Burundi, and so I wanted to learn from other people who live with its traces. I asked artist Marieke Maagdenberg to join me in the project TRACES, bringing word and image together.
Paradoxically, on our journey to create fuller stories, we stumbled upon the protective merits of partial portraits. Young people wanted to participate, but often not fully – were these TRACES of war?
- MAY 2015, BUJUMBURA LIDEWYDE DIARY
Diary
I am sitting on the veranda, freshly painted red nails. The cat is sleeping on my lap, grateful for the early morning attention in the middle of the working week.
This peaceful image is forcefully shattered by sound. Voices in Kirundi, French and English shout through the radios of the guards and me, competing for attention to their messages about violent protest. Dull, loud blasts of grenades and gunshots now and then intervene. They echo on the hills surrounding the city, making it impossible to identify their location. Too close, in any case...
Of Burundian
heritage
Burundi, in the African Great Lakes region, is famed for the 1000 rolling hills and bountiful Tanganyika lakeshores. But this country ‘of milk and honey’ is also notorious for repeated outbursts of ethnic and political violence: 1965, 1969, 1972, 1988, 1991, 1993-2005 and, most recently, 2015. Our photo-ethnographic journey took place in 2016 and 2017 in the Netherlands and Belgium, one year after Burundi became enmeshed in a new political crisis. In the project, we sought to understand how war reverberates beyond the actual time and place of war. What traces does war leave in the lives of young people of Burundian heritage in Europe?
Burundians have sought refuge abroad over the course of many years, while some moved for studies or employment but then felt forced to stay – leading to a fusion of long-term and newly arriving refugees and their descendants in Europe and beyond. In total, we conducted 66 interviews with parents and young people in the Netherlands and Belgium. Most young people we met twice or more often, and with several of them, we have kept in touch through various social media.
IN/VISIBILITY
Many young people we approached, responded enthusiastically to the project. Participating in a photo-ethnography seemed to make the project especially attractive – fitting with the interest of the ‘visual generation,’ but also in light of photography’s promise to reach audiences beyond the scholarly ones. A young woman in Belgium exclaimed, “finally, we exist!” At the same time, many young people appeared also fearful of the visibility that accompanied participation in a photo-ethnography. We struggled, is it ethically acceptable to try and reach people running away from us?
Prior to the interviews and pictures, we explained the purpose of the project and asked for (written) consent, explaining the possibility to leave questions unanswered and withdraw from the project when desired. Yet, notwithstanding formal ethical approval and informed consent procedures, we struggled with questions about the presentation of our photo-ethnographic findings. How should we deal with the apparent fears of some, which became so tangible during the project? Some of these fears were likely grounded: We knew all too well from our experiences in war-affected Burundi, that it is not always possible to predict the way danger roams.
More than once, we spoke with young people who initially agreed to participate, to only later cancel their appointments or not show up. In other cases, young people were open to pictures of their homes or themselves, but not to sharing their stories, or vice versa. One of our questions became: How to understand the young people’s dual investment in visibility and invisibility?
- MAY 2015, BUJUMBURA LIDEWYDE DIARY
Diary
For about two weeks I am largely confined to my temporary home in Bujumbura. A few times, I grant myself the luxury of a cappuccino in a French bar downtown, located in the middle of the triangle.
In the bar, I meet up with my research assistant. Then I receive a phone call from an unknown number. “This is…” I hear mumbling on the other side of the line. Another voice, clear and straight: “Armand is dead.” “Armand is dead, the funeral is tomorrow.” It takes long seconds before I realise that I am talking to Armand’s mother and sister. My friend is dead…
The next day I try to break out of my confined triangle to reach the morgue of Kamenge’s hospital to pay respect. Yet no taximan or friend dares to pass the roadblocks to bring me there. In honesty, I am unsure myself whether I dare to take the risk. In defeat, I leave Burundi on 11 May 2015.
Connectedness
Over time, we also learn of the struggles the sense of connectedness with Burundi can bring. Some young people of Burundian heritage appear to struggle with what is sometimes called a ‘worry burnout’ or ‘emphatic distress’. They feel overwhelmed by the continuous confrontation with violence in Burundi. This brutality is vividly displayed on social media and in the news. Some feel forced to withdraw from social media. Their sense of connectedness interferes with their studies and health. For a few, their concerns leads to acute psychosocial problems, reminiscent perhaps of psychopathology elsewhere described as the transgenerational transmission of trauma (Danieli, 1998).
war repertoires
The careful practices of the young people remind me of the “elusive tactics” I encountered among young people growing up in the aftermath of war in Bujumbura, Burundi (Berckmoes, 2014). There I found that harsh lessons learned through war and betrayal were passed on to new generations to protect them against latent danger. In the Netherlands and Belgium, we learn that parents implicitly and explicitly instill similar strategies for self-protection in their children. In this period of new political crisis, war repertoires are also expressed anew. Close and distant family members and others compel young people not to speak their mind. A transnational political campaign fuels and strengthens these messages with speeches, intimidating tweets, and visits by government representatives.
“There are Burundians who want to get to know you because they want to hurt you, just like there are Burundians who want to get to know you to do you good. But you cannot know it beforehand. …That is exactly why, when I grew up, my mother told me to tell a few lies the first time I meet someone.” (Laurent, Bujumbura, in Berckmoes, 2014)
- 2017, Kigali Rwanda Lidewyde diary
Diary
I meet up with Laurent in front of a refugee registration centre in Kigali. Laurent carries a small bag with two pairs of sandals. “Do you remember?” He hints at his promise of a few years ago, when, to pursue his dream to become a successful businessman, he went to Uganda and learned the craft of making leather sandals. He had sent me a message that I would never again have to worry about buying sandals. A few months ago, he also texted me. He had just arrived in Mahama refugee camp in Rwanda’s Eastern Province. His texts were short, he wrote then, because his fingers hurt; pained through torture in Burundi. Laurent recounts the events of that fateful night when he was arrested. He had sensed trouble from the first knock. The experience was nightmarish. He thought he would die. But his family managed to pay for his release, after which he escaped to Rwanda. Speaking in a soft, bitter voice, he adds that he is contemplating to join the rebellion. Then more belligerent: “If they do this to me, imagine what they may do to women and children in Burundi!” I ask him how his mother feels about this, knowing that he is very close to her. He tells me that she begged him earlier to stay away from soldiering. His late father too, on his deathbed, said that already too many family members had lost their lives soldiering in Burundi’s crises. Lidewyde, Kigali, Rwanda 2017
DOING HERITAGE DIFFERENTLY
Like in the poem lines of the young artist of Burundian heritage, the transgenerational legacies of war do not need to define the young people we meet: “In reality, the place I come from defines me less than what I do” (Joy Slam, 2016). The question is how the young people perceive and employ inherited (war-affected) cultural repertoires in their own daily lives. Rather than turning away from the wounded homeland, the relapse into crisis shows to young people how deeply they feel connected to peers in Burundi: youth like them, only born and/or raised in a different place. Determined to avoid stepping in the footsteps of division of their parents and grandparents, they are uncertain how to respond best, but they want to shake off the shackles of division and war.
“In the future a bit far, I would like to invest in Africa, and in Burundi, in my [creative arts] domain. So on my level, even if it is not very high … but even so, it is okay.”
(Young woman, 23 years, Belgium 2017)
AFTERLIVES
Nine years have passed since the protests and violence started on Bujumbura’s streets. International attention for the crisis has waned, sanctions have been lifted, and refugees in neighboring countries are pressured to return. Yet, in Burundi, a friend described to me, “it is [still] the law of the jungle, where the most powerful have full monopoly” (Text message, man, 38 years, Burundi 2022). Some of the young people we met in 2016 and 2017 in the Netherlands and Belgium continue to carve out connections with the Burundian transnational social field. Many seek to ‘do heritage differently’: through identification with ‘Africa’ instead, or by paying more attention to social and cultural – rather than political – aspects. In their own ways, they seek to re-generate their TRACES - not as stained by war but as a tribute to their roots.
FAQ
References
- Berckmoes, Lidewyde. Elusive tactics: Urban youth navigating the aftermath of war in Burundi. PhD Thesis. VU University (2014).
- Coe, Cati. The scattered family: Parenting, African migrants, and global inequality. University of Chicago Press (2013).
- Danieli, Yael, ed. International handbook of multigenerational legacies of trauma. Springer Science & Business Media (1998).
- Foner, Nancy, ed. Across generations: Immigrant families in America. NYU Press (2009).
- Kayaga, Gioia or Joy Slam. https://joyslampoesie.com. Last consulted, 04.06.2022.
- Pink, S. (2003) Representing the sensory home: ethnographic experience and anthropological hypermedia. Social Analysis, 47(3), 46-63.
- Swidler, Ann. “Culture in action: Symbols and strategies.” American sociologicalreview (1986): 273-286.
Acknowledgements
TRACES has been made possible by research generously supported by the Harry Frank Guggenheim Foundation (Grant year, 2016), by the Netherlands Centre for the Study of Crime and Law Enforcement (2016-2018) and by the African Studies Centre Leiden of Leiden University, the Netherlands (2018-2024).
About the authors
Marieke Maagdenberg is trained as an artist and photographer and Lidewyde Berckmoes as an anthropologist and Africanist. Lidewyde has been working as a researcher in the African Great Lakes region since 2005. TRACES presents the first collaborative work. The project was a dream come true for both. Lidewyde was drawn to Marieke’s art and photography, which to her conveyed the poetry of life as well as its rawness – both often lost in academic representations of war and its afterlives. For Marieke, the invitation to collaborate was an opportunity to try out new ways of working, while introducing her to new worlds and people.
With this website we hope to respond to the multi-sited, mobile lives and living of those most concerned. But then again, mobility often entails a loss of the tangible traces of life. Therefore, the photo-ethnographic book TRACES can also be ordered at the African Studies Centre Leiden, Leiden University.
The book
Contact Us
Feel free to reach out using the below details.
Copyright 2024, Marieke Maagdenberg