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Authors: Lavie Tidhar
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people would be gathered on a
Saturday morning. When he reached the market kiosks, his theory was confirmed.
Osati stood on a
makeshift podium of six upturned crates. He shouted loudly and his arm gestures
punctuated his every word. "Too long we have been pushed down," he yelled.
There was a chorus of assent. Some listened to him as they shopped but most of
the people stood still and listened closely. "Because of history we have stayed
quiet. Over and over we are reminded of what our fathers did to their fathers
as an excuse. They forget what their fathers did to ours. But why should I
expect anything to be fair. That is childish of me. After all, there have been
no free elections in twelve years. After all, the high positions of the
government are all occupied by Hutus. After all, when there is a drought their
families get relief while ours have to struggle.
"We have not always
been weak and subjugated. We once had influence and Tutsi children could walk
with pride. Our children…"
Osati continued on
the theme of children for a few minutes and then ended by promising that a new
future for Burundi could be shaped. There was clapping and chanting when he
finished. Katulo had to admit Osati's words were stirring. Osati walked through
the crowd shaking hands. People looked at him with the reverence they would
give a prophet.
When Osati saw
Katulo he smiled. "I would not have expected to see you here. You've never come
to see me speak before."
"I didn't want to encourage
you."
"You've finally
given up hope that I'll give it all up and decide to be a healer?"
"Maybe."
"How is Chama?"
"He's recovering.
Not conscious yet."
"I must apologise to
you," there was a fervour in Osati's voice. "When I brought Chama to you, I was
tired and angry. I did not treat you with respect."
"I understand."
"I have been angry
with you for a long time. At the wedding, when you did the Waking, I realised
part of me resented that you never could teach me that skill."
"I pushed you too
hard."
"You were right when
you said the wedding should go on," Osati admitted. "We needed that beauty in
this time of struggle."
Katulo felt bothered
by Osati's use of the word "struggle". His former apprentice fancied himself as
a hero, leading Burundi boldly to a Third Revolution. "There are some things
that I also have to admit you are right about," Katulo conceded. "There have
been no elections, and the government is mostly Hutu. You are right that
changes are needed, but this is not the right way."
"What way do you
think this is?"
"Violence."
"Did you hear me say
one word about violence?"
"You were throwing
stones in the city."
"We hurt nobody.
Chama is the one lying in your clinic."
"I went to see
Minister Kalé."
"And what did he
say?" Osati's voice was rich with contempt.
"He will get the
boys who attacked you to apologise publicly, if you apologise publicly for the
vandalism."
Osati laughed
raucously.
"It would just be to
calm things down."
"Things don't need
to be calmed down. I can't believe you expected me to agree to this. Maybe if
they are put on trial."
"Maybe later."
"Go away, Katulo.
Stick to tending patients in your clinic."
Osati started to
turn away.
"If you had only
been alive during the massacres."
Osati whirled,
filled with rage. "It always comes back to that with you old people. Oh, oh,
our terrible past. Oh, the lives lost in the massacres. It's the past. What? We
should be docile and let ourselves be ground under the boot of the Hutus
because of a memory? "
"You can't know how
bad it was. When I was fourteen I followed my father and some men to a school…"
"I mourn for all the
dead but I am not dead. These people here are not dead. Right now, right here,
we are being oppressed." A woman standing nearby clapped her hands at Osati's
words. Osati turned and delivered her all his attention.
Katulo leant heavily
on his walking stick. What did I expect when I came here? That he would
agree? No. I knew this is what
Saturday morning. When he reached the market kiosks, his theory was confirmed.
Osati stood on a
makeshift podium of six upturned crates. He shouted loudly and his arm gestures
punctuated his every word. "Too long we have been pushed down," he yelled.
There was a chorus of assent. Some listened to him as they shopped but most of
the people stood still and listened closely. "Because of history we have stayed
quiet. Over and over we are reminded of what our fathers did to their fathers
as an excuse. They forget what their fathers did to ours. But why should I
expect anything to be fair. That is childish of me. After all, there have been
no free elections in twelve years. After all, the high positions of the
government are all occupied by Hutus. After all, when there is a drought their
families get relief while ours have to struggle.
"We have not always
been weak and subjugated. We once had influence and Tutsi children could walk
with pride. Our children…"
Osati continued on
the theme of children for a few minutes and then ended by promising that a new
future for Burundi could be shaped. There was clapping and chanting when he
finished. Katulo had to admit Osati's words were stirring. Osati walked through
the crowd shaking hands. People looked at him with the reverence they would
give a prophet.
When Osati saw
Katulo he smiled. "I would not have expected to see you here. You've never come
to see me speak before."
"I didn't want to encourage
you."
"You've finally
given up hope that I'll give it all up and decide to be a healer?"
"Maybe."
"How is Chama?"
"He's recovering.
Not conscious yet."
"I must apologise to
you," there was a fervour in Osati's voice. "When I brought Chama to you, I was
tired and angry. I did not treat you with respect."
"I understand."
"I have been angry
with you for a long time. At the wedding, when you did the Waking, I realised
part of me resented that you never could teach me that skill."
"I pushed you too
hard."
"You were right when
you said the wedding should go on," Osati admitted. "We needed that beauty in
this time of struggle."
Katulo felt bothered
by Osati's use of the word "struggle". His former apprentice fancied himself as
a hero, leading Burundi boldly to a Third Revolution. "There are some things
that I also have to admit you are right about," Katulo conceded. "There have
been no elections, and the government is mostly Hutu. You are right that
changes are needed, but this is not the right way."
"What way do you
think this is?"
"Violence."
"Did you hear me say
one word about violence?"
"You were throwing
stones in the city."
"We hurt nobody.
Chama is the one lying in your clinic."
"I went to see
Minister Kalé."
"And what did he
say?" Osati's voice was rich with contempt.
"He will get the
boys who attacked you to apologise publicly, if you apologise publicly for the
vandalism."
Osati laughed
raucously.
"It would just be to
calm things down."
"Things don't need
to be calmed down. I can't believe you expected me to agree to this. Maybe if
they are put on trial."
"Maybe later."
"Go away, Katulo.
Stick to tending patients in your clinic."
Osati started to
turn away.
"If you had only
been alive during the massacres."
Osati whirled,
filled with rage. "It always comes back to that with you old people. Oh, oh,
our terrible past. Oh, the lives lost in the massacres. It's the past. What? We
should be docile and let ourselves be ground under the boot of the Hutus
because of a memory? "
"You can't know how
bad it was. When I was fourteen I followed my father and some men to a school…"
"I mourn for all the
dead but I am not dead. These people here are not dead. Right now, right here,
we are being oppressed." A woman standing nearby clapped her hands at Osati's
words. Osati turned and delivered her all his attention.
Katulo leant heavily
on his walking stick. What did I expect when I came here? That he would
agree? No. I knew this is what
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