Remembering the Genocide in Rwanda – Medium

In Rwanda no one is playing music. We’re sitting in a bar called Papyrus.

“That’s where there’d usually be karaoke.” The guy I’m with points towards a corner. “The place would normally be packed; wall to wall.”

It’s twenty years since the genocide against the Tutsis — when 800,000 were murdered by their friends, neighbours, and acquaintances — and this is a week of mourning. “Kwibuka20” signs are hung prominently everywhere in capital city Kigali; their slogan: “Remember — unite — renew”.

The past few days have been heavy with disclosures, admissions, apologies. On Saturday a former genocidaire told a packed stadium never to listen to their parents, because his parents were the ones who told him to kill. A Belgian soldier testified that his colleagues had seen “killers wielding machetes” in their rear view mirrors as they left behind the Tutsis they had been protecting. A survivor told us about the moment a Hutu leader told a group of Interahamwe to “start the work”.

On Monday United Nations Secretary General Ban Ki-moon announced: “We could have done much more. We should have done much more.”

The press have been told to respect the emotions of those we talk to, but on a bus a man asks loudly: “So are there Tutsi or Hutu neighbourhoods?” “Would they just go door to door?” “Were there many incidences where people tried to protect themselves?”

Read the rest at Medium.com

Rwanda genocide commemorations – Irish Times

I was in Rwanda during the commemoration events for the 20th anniversary of the genocide against the Tutsi. I appeared as a live TV correspondent for Arise News, as well as writing the following pieces for The Irish Times:

Rwanda remembers: “It simply should never have happened”, Irish Times, 8th April 2014

Mary Robinson reflects on Rwanda anniversary, Irish Times, 8th April 2014

(Photo: Press briefing with Rwandan president Paul Kagame and UN Secretary General Ban Ki-moon)

CNN International’s ‘Connect the World’

Between January and March 2014 I wrote over 50 blogs for CNN International’s ‘Connect the World’. Here are a selection of them:

Compensation for Malaysia Airlines Flight 370, March 27 2014

Egyptian court sentences 528 people to death after mass trials, March 26 2014

Why is a “black box” orange?, March 26 2014

#Nomakeupselfies for Cancer Research, March 24 2014

UN International Happiness Day, March 21 2014

Fresh lead in Madeleine McCann case, March 20 2014

Drive Another Day: Bond’s classic cars, March 19 2014

Ambassador: Sanctions must be “painful to Russians”, March 18 2014

Remembering Sir David Frost, March 18 2014

Could a plane hide from radar detection? March 18 2014

Russia-Ukraine: Whose side is law on? March 12 2014

Barroso: “Peace and stability” are paramount, March 7 2014

Man Utd in trouble on and off the pitch, February 27 2014

Cop. Farmer. Nutritionist. Rockbreaker – Irish Times

Malawi has a female president, but women still play a subservient role in the home, have limited access to education, and suffer violence and ill health. Four mothers describe their lives, hopes and role models

Dorcus Jussab. Photograph: Sally Hayden

International attention turned to Malawi in April 2012 when President Joyce Banda came to power. Only the second woman head of state in Africa, she was named last year by Forbes as the most powerful woman on the continent.

Banda took charge after the death of her predecessor, Bingu wa Mutharika, at what was economically a very difficult time. After the IMF encouraged her to devalue the kwacha, in 2012, the country experienced widespread food and fuel shortages. Recent events have made her term no easier. The attempted assassination of the government budget director, last September, led to a corruption scandal, dubbed cashgate, that saw Banda sack her entire cabinet, and the EU, UK and Norway withdraw funding.

Her leadership could come to an end in May with the presidential election, a highly contested poll that will coincide with Malawi’s 20th anniversary as a multiparty democracy.

Although her success in most areas hasn’t been fully evaluated, she has been commended internationally for her efforts to improve women’s rights. Working for gender equality is also a priority of Irish Aid, the Government’s overseas development programme, and Malawi is one of its priority countries.

There is a lot of room for improvement. Malawi is 124th in the world for gender inequality, according to the UN. Women make up 22.3 per cent of seats in the Malawian parliament, and only 10.4 per cent of women have a secondary education, half the rate for men.

January Mvula, director of the Sustainable Rural Community Development Organisation, says Malawian women are physically strong. “African women carry a baby on their head, one load on their back, and others in each of their arms.” But when your measurement extends beyond the physical, the empowerment of women in Malawi is still in the early stages. “We are from a background where women are often disregarded.”

Issues such as gender-based violence are widespread. Early marriages and pregnancies prevent women completing their education. One in seven Malawian women is infected with HIV or Aids…

Read more at IrishTimes.com.

Teen Clubs aim to speak up and end the silence surrounding HIV – Irish Times

Through plays, debates, games and quizzes, young Malawians are learning about ending the stigma of HIV

The Ntchisi region of Malawi. One in seven people in the Southern African country has HIV/Aids.  Photograph: Sally Hayden

Jake* is 19. He found out he was HIV positive when an ad on the radio station he was listening to mentioned that the hospital he had been attending every month was a HIV/Aids hospital. “At first I was refusing to eat, stopped going to school, thought maybe I will die soon.”

Jake is one of a pretty unique sector of young people.

Those in his age group were the last to be born before medical advances reduced the chances of perinatally transmitted HIV from 25 per cent to less than 2 per cent, but still born late enough to benefit from antiretroviral drugs (ARVs), which hugely lengthen the expected lifespan of those infected.

Although Jake’s mother died from the virus she passed on to him during childbirth, he has survived. Along with all the other confusions that surround adolescence, he has had to come to terms with his diagnosis.

One-third of all those currently infected individuals are youth, aged between 15-24. Last Monday the World Health Organisation warned that governments were failing to provide adequate youth-specific services, something which has contributed to the 50 per cent increase in Aids-related deaths among 10-19 year olds between 2005 and 2012…

Read more at IrishTimes.com

Irish Aid Blog Post 4 – Sally Hayden in Malawi

On my way to the airport my Malawian taxi driver asked me what kind of music I listen to. He added, cheerily, “My favourite type of music is blues music… Like Westlife!” Then he pulled out his Coast to Coast CD. After we ruminated over the chances of the band staging a reunion some day, I asked him whether, given their huge following, they had ever played a concert here. “Of course not,” he said. “Malawi is too poor for Westlife.”

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Malawi is a country of over 16 million people. The official languages are English and Chichewa. The average life expectancy is 54 for women, 52 for men. Formerly called Nyasaland, next year Malawi will celebrate 50 years of independence. One in seven Malawians have HIV or AIDS, though very few people talk about it.

There are no Twitter trends for Malawi. Neither are there, less surprisingly, for North Korea, though let’s not get sidetracked. When you enter Malawi into the Twitter trend search engine, it will ask you whether you meant Lusaka.

Malawians have a positive but somewhat cynical sense of humour. In some parts of the country ‘Osama bread’ has been renamed ‘Obama bread’. Kupinga ndale, the Chichewa for ‘practicing politics’, translates directly as ‘to throw an obstacle in the path that your fellow may stumble’. My taxi driver told me that this is representative of the fact that African politics is largely smoke and mirrors.

Some common Malawian names include Gift, Blessings, and Precious. Less common but still in circulation are Limited, Funny, and Omnipotent. Whilst on a tour of his factory last week, I discussed acute malnutrition with a man called Happy.

The colours in Malawi are red-tinged. The roads are dusty. Many times I thought I was getting a tan, only to have it wash off. The sounds when you’re falling asleep are of insects, howling dogs, and distant voices.

Malawians don’t eat out. A friend called Elias told me “In Malawian culture if you want to try Indian food you find an Indian woman and get her to invite you to her house”.  Several people spoke to me of poverty with the same breath they used to offer me food.

Expats in Malawi talk about how difficult they find returning to their “real lives” abroad. Their friends complain about low wages, or hospital queues, or a single power cut. They find that actively forcing themselves to empathise with people’s complaints creates a disconnect, a situation where they begin to resent their home countries, and the people who live in them.

I told Malawian friends that Irish people often get depressed. “But why?” they asked. “Maybe it’s the weather”, I said, and tried to explain a month of grey skies.

I’ve learnt a lot about poverty on this trip, but I still can’t comprehend it. Poverty isn’t tangible, it’s a series of omissions. It’s a lack of security, a lack of entertainment, a lack of opportunity. It’s a lady who has sat on her porch every day for two years because she broke her leg and her local hospital couldn’t fix it…

Read more at SimonCumbersMediaFund.ie.

Irish Aid Blog Post 3 – Sally Hayden in Malawi

In a small brick church with a roof of straw and plastic bags a preacher speaks of heaven as being a country free from sickness and corruption. 200 metres down the road a woman sits for twelve hours in the same spot every day, hammering stones into chippings, which she sells to buy food for her grandchildren. Their parents died from Aids, and her husband is long deceased. When I ask her what the biggest problem in her life is at the moment she says “Young people. They’re not as respectful as we were when I was young.”

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In a local bar a government official’s son boasts about how expensive his car is. Later that night a white South African asks me whether I want to join his group, the “white people group”, because I might be “scared of all the blacks”.

In the market a dreadlocked man wearing an ‘Eat Pray Love’ t-shirt tells me that Irish people would make great Rastafarians. At a lodge a few miles away someone from England explains how he came here to volunteer organising soccer matches in an orphanage and was hired as the coach of the national football team, aged just 17.

At a public debate on corruption Victor Charles Banda from the Anti-Corruption Bureau proclaims “What I have seen is such that our government system is completely corrupt. When 10% of the population are getting richer abnormally and you are walking barefoot you should be worried.”

Mother’s Day in Malawi is a national holiday. 1 in 36 women die in childbirth here, compared with 1 in 8,100 in Ireland. A fourteen year old whose mother died in May tells me that poverty is the feeling of embarrassment when she’s talking to someone who has everything, and she hasn’t even got shoes.

When kind, tambourine-wielding Bishop E. I. Lazaro says “I hope we are of the same family because in heaven there is no skin colour”, I think it would be nice if everyone lived by those sentiments. It would be nice if the officials at the immigration office didn’t expect me to skip the queue, or if the bar down the road didn’t only turn on football matches for white people.

When I came to Malawi I brought a suitcase full of old leggings, runners, and large-sized men’s t-shirts, which I would like to believe says more about my prejudices than my terrible fashion sense. People make fun of Westerners in Africa for leaving all their good clothes at home and dressing like they’re going on safari. While packing I didn’t consider that I might end up dancing in a night club with beautiful girls in heels, or driving through Lilongwe in a convertible with a best-selling hip hop artist.

It’s hard to describe the things that exist and don’t exist in a developing country.

There isn’t an organised infrastructure. Complex improvement plans are in place, but there are several, they’re NGOs and they’re competing against each other. There isn’t transparency. It is estimated that 30% of the national budget is lost through fraud…

Read more at SimonCumbersMediaFund.ie.

Irish Aid Blog Post 1 – Sally Hayden in Malawi

One of my new friends here has joked that there should be a video game called ‘Driving in Malawi’. You would spend your time dodging goats and chickens, and on either side of the road would be smoking trenches, the kind that replace footpaths, and double up as a means of waste disposal.

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Malawi is incredible. This was a country that I couldn’t even begin to imagine, that barely gets a mention in histories of the continent. 694 pages of the tiny-fonted tome that is ‘The Scramble for Africa’ sees one passing acknowledgement, on page 678.

Since I arrived in the 17th least developed country in the world, two weeks after handing in my master’s thesis and completely alone, everyone has been so helpful. A presidential candidate took me to lunch, and then helped me move my luggage between accommodations, a broadcast journalist offered to share sources, and is bringing me to see his newsroom. Malawi’s biggest music festival, ‘City of Stars’, offered me a press pass. I am particularly excited to see the ‘Malawi Mouse Boys’, a four-piece band that divides their time between singing gospel music, and catching and barbequing mice, which they then sell to people on kebab sticks.

I’m talking to everyone, and learning everything from cultural niceties to political secrets. In Malawi “you’re looking really fat today” is a compliment, and calling something “Chinese” is an insult. Meanwhile, the country is still reeling from last week’s assassination attempt on government budget director Paul Mphwiyo, and fingers are pointing in all directions.

Politics dominates the discussion in all sectors of society, and the word ‘corruption’ permeates. When invisible, it is a noun to be resigned to, an immeasurable drain on development. When visible, it is a matter for huge condemnation…

Read more at SimonCumbersMediaFund.ie.

Ding, Dong, Kim-Jong is Dead

Millions watch Kim Jong-un in fearful anticipation, not least because he will be the last man with the power to reunite families that remember each other.

Along with both his father and Bertie Ahern, Kim Jong-il has that lucky knack of knowing when the right time to exit is. On the 17th December, exactly two weeks before his declared deadline of making the DPRK a “strong and prosperous nation”, the Dear Leader finally succumbed to his suffix and died. Whilst blue flashes blinded, ice exploded, storks sympathised and a holy mountain glowed, the world woke up to the fact that the hermit state was in unknown hands, and they didn’t like it.

Kim Jong-il was a known enemy. He was wildly eccentric in the way only a totalitarian dictating megalomaniac can be. A film fanatic, in 1978 he ordered the kidnapping of South Korean film director Shin Sang-ok, who, during his eight years in captivity, was charged with the creation of a North Korean Godzilla. Despite propagandist assertions of a diet of potatoes and rice-balls, his former chef claims Kim had a penchant for roasted donkey, caviar and fresh Thai papayas. The world’s greatest golfer, he shot 38 under par in his maiden round including five holes-in-one, or so attested seventeen of his bodyguards.

His hubristic behaviour could be confined to the realms of real-life comedy if one was to ignore the ground level suffering that also off-shot from it.

Google satellite pictures of the DPRK at night, and the result will be a bewildering darkness. That’s not censorship, it’s the result of no electricity. North Korea faded to black during the early 1990s. Power stations rusted. People stole electrical wire to exchange for food. And Kim Jong-il became the leader of the first industrialised country to lose the capacity to feed itself.

An estimated 500,000 to 2 million people died in the famine, a direct result of Kim’s obstinate promotion of the Juche Idea, which advocated complete self-sufficiency. His noted fearlessness in the face of international sanctions was an indication of either complete delusion or an utter absence of human compassion, as his subjects perished.

The Communist state failed with the food crisis. Many DPRK defectors noted that it was the good and loyal citizens that were the first to succumb to starvation, whilst illegal markets and small businesses sprung up out of necessity for everyone else. Even in 2011, long after the famine’s formal end, the average official monthly income was less than €2. A further €10 came in on the side, as capitalist practices are employed to keep families alive.

The increasing inequality is dashing Southern hopes of successful future reunification. The South’s economic power is at least thirty times stronger than the North’s. This is equivalent to four times the disparity that existed between East and West Berlin when the wall fell. The average North Korean is three inches smaller than their Southern counterparts due to malnourishment.

Apart from the welfare of its citizens internally, the huge international concern is in regard to the nuclear weapons held by the state. In his eulogy the songun, or “military first” policy adopted by North Korea was the most praised achievement of the elder Kim, whilst the issue of the economy was avoided in almost a “don’t mention the war” manner. Parliament chief Kim Yong-nam instead gushed that his legacy was the foundation of a “proud nuclear state”.

Pride is certainly a distinguishing factor in a personality-cult fuelled nationalistic regime. The North has conducted two nuclear tests, and could have a working nuclear missile in as little as one or two years. This poses both a threat to regional security, and supplies the DPRK with a powerful bargaining tool to use when seeking aid for its economy.

As the action rises, enter central stage a pudgy, Swiss-educated 28-year old with very little political experience, and instead of a double rainbow, a huge question-mark hanging over his head. Kim’s older sons were rejected for the leadership role, one after embarrassing his father by being arrested in a Japanese airport using fake passports to gain access to Disneyland, the other for being “too feminine”. Kim Jong-un brings new hope.

One move that should be wished for is the decriminalisation of the currently underground private economy. Another is that the younger Kim will be more willing to make concessions in international negotiations.

Both his international education and his experience as a basketball team player may make him more open to change than his father, according to the former deputy governor of the North’s Korea Reunification Development Bank. But with his uncle Jang Song Thaek supervising the transition period and the new Supreme Leader being encouraged by the rest of the military elite, this is far from a certainty.

Meanwhile millions pray to the new leader for another kind of mercy. It is likely that he will be the last man with the power to reunite estranged families that still hold memories of each other. Countless relatives were torn apart during the Korean War, and with no postal, email or telephone service between the two factions, do not know if their long-lost are still even alive.

Family reunions were agreed to at the landmark summit in 2000 and so far 20,000 Koreans have been allowed once-off face-to-face or video contact with their parents, children and siblings on the other side. Fathers have faced elderly offspring that have a lifetime of their own completed. Brothers and sisters have strained to recognise each other after sixty years apart.

Of the 130,000 South Koreans that signed up for reunions, a third have since died without satisfaction. With the war fading from memory, connections are extinguishing and the severance of Korea has reached the final stage of completion. Whether his compassion will extend beyond propagandist reportings is questionable. And so Koreans wait, like they have for sixty years.

Colm Tóibín Interview: Tell me something that you are sure is true

Prior to his appearance in UCD, novelist Colm Tóibín talks gay babies, Dana, emigration and Starbucks with Sally Hayden.

It’s not every day you get the chance to chat to one of Britain’s top 300 intellectuals. Apart from the eternal question of Rice Krispies versus Coco Pops, this was Otwo’s first notable thought this morning. Even more notable because this intellectual is most definitely Irish.

Colm Tóibín is rankled about the recent Observer list too, but for a different reason. “I thought 300 was a lot of people, and some of the other people were not very smart at all. If they had said I was one of fifty I would have been happier. They should have ranked us!”

It is twenty-one years since Tóibín wrote The South. His first novel dealt with the topics of immigration and sense of self, themes that are recurring throughout his subsequent works. It is set in Barcelona, where Tóibín himself moved in 1975, immediately after graduating from UCD. A cyclical market and an unprecedented global downturn have ensured that our generation are fleeing the fatherland just as hastily. At the recent Irish Economic Forum Tóibín called this a “tragedy.”

Whilst noting the mind-expanding benefits of spending anything from a year in Sydney to two weeks in Costa da Brava, he points out the serious detriment of the “disaster” of relocation in the longer term. “The entire business of permanent migration, of losing your roots and your relationship to the place you were brought up in, and you suddenly think twenty years later that everyone drinks in the same bar as they did twenty years ago. You think everyone at home is the same age as they were when you left, when in fact they’ve got two kids.

“Your dream of home now doesn’t equal the reality. Your entire relationship to your peer group and your family begins to dissolve and change fundamentally, and you end up a decade later coming home less and less, and having less and less connection to home.”

Upon his return to Ireland after three years he found it backward in every way. “To give you one small example, in 1978, when I came back to Dublin, there was one coffee machine in the entire city.”

Now Dubliners are besieged by the epitome of the American coffee dream itself, in the form of Starbucks and its various competitors. However for Tóibín, modern Ireland is still founding wanting. “I think in most families there’s an absolute innate racism where you learn not to say things, but if your son or daughter came home with somebody from a different race you would be very concerned about that”.

The same applies to sexuality, negative attitudes to which still lie latent, the explicitness of which, according to Tóibín, we’ve learnt to “disguise”. “There’s no overt homophobia in political discourse, or the newspapers, or on radio, but it doesn’t mean that anybody longs to have a gay baby.”

Tóibín’s laugh is as infectious as his books are miserable. During our brief time talking Otwo chuckled, giggled, chortled and guffawed. His latest work is a film script. “I can’t write comedy. This really was a comedy, I swear to you. But I looked at it yesterday and thought ‘we’ll have to get sad music for it now.’”

As a patron and producer of the arts, he is delighted about the recent election of Michael D. Higgins to the Presidency. “He is stylish, he is cultured, he is articulate, and as he said himself, being old was not a secret he was keeping. So [I’m] very pleased with the result, I think he’s a most civilised human being. Perhaps more civilised than most of the people who elected him.”

Having said that, he did wonder if these voters deserved Dana instead. “I think it was a good idea to accuse Martin McGuinness of something, but it was hard to think up of the others. Dana had American nationality, who cares? Mary Davis was on some state board. Yeah, well, I’m on the Arts Council, I was appointed by Fianna Fáil. They needed someone competent, they appointed me. She didn’t defend herself enough by saying ‘would you shut up’.”

Sensing a prime chance to shape the political future of Ireland, Otwo slyly suggests President Tóibín for 2018. “You think I would tour around the country telling everyone that I thought I had qualities that were presidential? I think self-deprecation is actually fundamental to citizenship. I would hate the National Ploughing Championships. I would hate getting into wellies!”

Three times a Booker Prize potential, Tóibín also has no interest in the “theatre of cruelty” that are awards ceremonies. “I actually knew Anthony Burgess, and he wouldn’t go to the Booker ceremony unless he was sure he had won. It was that year that his wonderful novel Earthly Powers was beaten by some novel by William Golding, and Burgess just said ‘why does anyone think I’m just going to go and travel all the way over from Monaco and sit there and not win?’”

Though never previously renowned as a breeding grounds for British intellectuals, with the year of the Queen, the times they are a-changing. “UCD is a great place. I kneel down every morning and thank God I didn’t go to Trinity.”

Otwo tells Tóibín to not give up on the comedy.

Colm Tóibín will speak to UCD’s English and Literary Society on Wednesday 23rd November in Theatre O (Newman Building) at 6:30pm