Rwanda is one of the countries with the lowest rates of street crime in the world, comparable to Japan as of 2003, and still "really low" according to this (Ann Arbor Chronicle), this (UK government), this (Ireland's Department of Foreign Affairs), this (New York Times) and this article (ok, the government newspaper The New Times, which doesn't quite count). According to Interpol in one UNODC document, homicide rates are lower than in the North America. Yet Rwanda also has one of the highest rates of domestic violence in the world. The World Health Organization, which may be more likely to take into account unreported suspected murders committed in private, puts the homicide rate at four times as high as Interpol.
This odd combination of safety outside and danger inside is felt.
Street theft is incredibly low. Insanely low. People won't even let you let them steal things. As someone who loses things all the time, I have had strangers run after me, returning my wallet, cell phone, loose change that has fallen out, and an x-ray from King Faisal Hospital that I left at a small grocery store registry. Just four days ago, I had a fabulous outfit for a wedding in a bag that I left in a tiny milk shop, whose monthly profit is almost definitely not more than around 30,000 francs a month, based on the interviews I conducting with surrounding milk shops. The clothes and shoes in that bag, including white stiletto heals (yes, I brought those from Israel), a tailored shirt, and a nice black dress skirt, were probably worth the equivalent of at least one month's income for this man. As I got on the bus, the shop owner ran after me, just in time, to return the wedding outfit, saving me from social mortification inherent in being under-dressed in Rwanda. People yell "ssssssss!" to grab people's attention, and when I hear the familiar "sssssssss!" I usually end up looking back to someone who is waving my latest lost item, waiting for me to go back and get it.
Every time I lose something, the returner says, "You are very lucky, if it was someone else..." followed by a laugh reserved for absent-minded blonds. But it seems that I would have been just as lucky with everyone else.
Sometimes strangers will accompany me on the way home in Rubona. At first, I was sure there was some ulterior motive - money, hitting on me, curiosity, or maybe boredom. But I quickly learned that, if you are walking alone, people will just walk with you, to make sure you are not lonely or feel unsafe. They do this for other people as well, everyone from old women to young toddlers, so it is not just because I am a foreigner.
A few hours ago I did my daily accidental trip over a crack in the sidewalk. A lady walking by gave me a side glance and said, "oooh, sorry." Strangers in both the cities and the villages often say "sorry" when you trip, fall, or drop something. And nobody knows this more than me.
I am a woman who has always, throughout my life, taken the decision to walk home at night by myself both out of principal, impatience and a love for listening to Alanis and Mika while walking alone. After living in Israel, where I have been harassed and even assaulted a number of times, I can tell you that walking around Rwanda I feel as safe walking home as I do walking around at home.
I have talked to young women in Kigali and Rwamagana who like dressing up and showing a little skin, and they tell me that it's all about walking confidently on the street and ignoring the stares. "It's all about walking confidently" is something you cannot say in crime-ridden streets. Confidence, despite what Cosmopolitan tells you, is pretty useless in a lot of places, like East Jerusalem and Harlem in the 1990s. And when I considered walking confidently, at 5:00am, to a taxy fifty meters from my guest house in Entebbe, I was told that I absolutely would be mugged or worse.
In Rwanda, I have noticed that people even return small change to me that I have dropped, that I clearly will not notice is gone - a 10 franc coin, which is hardly anything even by Rwandan standards. Perhaps they return the small change because it hardly amounts to anything, anyways, and the large amounts to avoid being accused of theft. But even if this is the logic, the logic is the mechanism for a very admirable cultural norm.
In public, trust seems to be incredibly high. Neighbors help each other out, personal space on public transportation is non-existent, strangers return lost wallets, the money in tact, and women walk around, alone, at night. Compared to other countries, crime is low.
Outside the house.
Inside, it's a different story.
I have met numerous women who were sexually abused indoors, whether in their homes or indoor public locations, such as bars and schools. Child molestation, rape, and abuse is common. Some people don't seem to be aware that, when the boy is not an adult, it is still rape if the boy forces a girl to have sex. There are many cases of older men sexually abusing girls, including small children, that they financially support, as I wrote in an earlier blog post. Sexual abuse of students by teachers occurs, as well. One former teacher, who is now an unemployed alcoholic roaming the streets of Rubona, told me he needed to stop teaching when he got married because the female students "always wanted to have sex with him." The Light in Our Home project from the NGO Global Grassroots writes about the issue of sexual abuse in schools in Ruhango Sector. One excellent study published with UNICEF and the Rwandan National Youth Council discusses the attitudes of children and teachers regarding violence against children, both in and around schools.
On the first week in Rwanda I heard a child screaming out for help inside a bar that was located less than a meter in front of homes. The police came asking questions soon after.
The average night club seems to be as disturbing as the seediest clubs in other countries.
A man once shook my hand in a club, and refused to let go. He started tightening his hand around my wrist until I felt like it was literally about to break. I tried to pull away but he just tightened his grip until I protested loudly. The man next to him, an American businessman, started to laugh. I started to yell louder until others looked our way and he finally let go.
One club has a special drawer in their back room, reserved for passports that are discarded by thieves who steal wallets. The fact that there is a drawer for passports suggests that crime is not particularly organized. In Barundi on ASYV staff member had her passport stolen with the gang calling her up and asking for money. Passports in other East African countries are worth a lot, as they are manipulated and sold in an organized black market which does not seem to exist in Rwanda.
Some claim that low levels of public street crime is due to the tough stance of the government against crime, or the high quality of the police force. It is fear of the police, not exactly trust of others. This definitely is part of it. But I really think that not stealing in public and returning what is not yours is something deeply rooted in Rwandan culture.
There has been much discussion on the rising levels of theft and violence that occurred even before the genocide, which would suggest that the post-1994 government had something to do with the current low crime rate. You might have read Jared Diamond's take (you can read an excerpt from Collapse: How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed here). He points out that "even before 1994, Rwanda was experiencing rising levels of violence and theft, perpetuated especially by hungry landless people without off-farm income." However, it may be that crime before the poverty that rose in the late 1980s was always relatively low. One Encyclopedia by from 1987 by George Thomas Kurian notes that, "Data concerning crime are not available, but law enforcement problems are believed to be minor." You can read a snippet here.
When the crime does not directly harm another person, such as narcotics, it's not as low. The Rwandan police reports have noted this: drugs use is on the rise. If crime is low from people helping people who want to be helped, then this really would not help those who are addicted to drugs. After two volunteers returned from Kenya and told me about the widespread glue-sniffing of street children there, I started to notice the street children in Kigali sniffing glue, the bottles up their sleeves or in brown paper bags. They were around the center of town, where there is a heavy police presence. Women still sell clothes illegally on the street, and have become excellent sprinters, running from the police, taxes, and potential fines and prison sentences. When I see police running after them, they need to run incredibly fast, and often can't keep up. If other crimes that don't directly harm others are still widely found, it may not be fear of police alone.
I hope, one day, the rate of domestic crime and violence is as low as street crime.
No comments:
Post a Comment