Rwandan Children Carry the Weight of Their World

KAYONZA, Rwanda — Long before the blistering sun has reared its head, Ejide Mbarushimana, 15, has begun a day of backbreaking labor. He can be found stripping the rotting bark off the banana trees at the back of the mud-and-thatch hut where he lives, or digging up the aggressive weeds that threaten to strangle his fruit crop.

After he has finished this chore, the scrawny teen prepares a meal of mashed bananas and beans for his three brothers, ages 13, 11 and 7. On some days, the younger children go to school; on others, Ejide sends them to scour nearby fields for sorghum so the boys can have something different to eat for supper.

For three years now, Ejide--whose parents are presumed victims of the 1994 genocide that killed an estimated 800,000 ethnic Tutsis and moderate Hutus here--has been enveloped in this life of unending toil, serving as father, mother and brother to his siblings. That he is shouldering such tremendous responsibility at a tender age is far from unusual here.

The United Nations Children’s Fund estimates that about 85,000 households in Rwanda are headed by youths--some as young as 13. And although their plight was recognized as early as 1995, the magnitude of the problem is only now becoming apparent as the last Rwandan refugees straggle home and this nation seeks to rebuild after its ghastly killing rampage and civil war.

Until now, the government--overburdened by a host of other concerns--had concentrated on reuniting lost youths with parents or other relatives or on finding homes for the thousands of children living in orphanages.

Now, however, efforts are finally focusing on the needs of households headed by children. Foreign aid groups such as UNICEF hope to begin working soon with Rwandan authorities, community leaders, church groups and the children themselves to more thoroughly assess the youngsters’ predicament and to offer them the help they need to keep their families together while enjoying some semblance of a childhood, said Huguette Rutera, project officer for UNICEF’s Child Protection Program Unit in Kigali, the capital.

“We can’t just keep feeding them,” Rutera said. “The ultimate goal is to help them to help themselves.”

Some advocates for children, especially those from other countries, insist that no adolescents should be left to fend for themselves, no matter the circumstances. They point, for example, to the United States, where it is rare for youths to be legally emancipated before age 18; although teen pregnancy is a major problem in America, these experts say, states almost never allow youngsters to head a household without adult care and supervision.

In this culture, however, in which foster care and orphanages only recently stopped being an alien concept, Rwandan officials argue that there is no place like home. “An institution is so cold,” Rutera said. “The child doesn’t have the love and support of community life.”

Clemantine Mukamutginzi, 18, and her four siblings--ages 5, 8, 10 and 14--know how important it is to live as a family. For more than a year, they stayed in an orphanage. But they recently chose to return to the home they had lived in before the war, when their father was alive and with them. Their house was in ruins, but with help, they managed to repair it.

At first, when Clemantine was only 16, the siblings’ maternal grandfather and an uncle agreed to supervise the youngsters. This arrangement, however, soon fell apart as the men were forced to take on other commitments. Clemantine sacrificed her own schooling and life so she could be a homemaker and caregiver for her family.

“There are problems when the kids fall sick or there is a shortage of food,” she lamented, explaining how she struggles to grow beans and sorghum for her siblings to eat. “But it’s better that we’re together.”

For Rwandan youths without parents or guardians, these have been exceedingly hard times. Most live in filthy, dilapidated shacks that were severely damaged in the war or simply have fallen apart in neglect since.

What belongings the kids once might have had--land, furnishings or any other valuables--often have been seized by adults, both relatives and strangers, or divided among other siblings who have a different father or mother. There also have been reports of abuse by adults exploiting youngsters for their labor.

Meantime, among those Rwandan youngsters who head households, few have returned to school. This bodes ill for the future--the nation may be facing the prospect of a generation of illiterate, war-scarred people, analysts say.

Ejide said he would love to go to school on a regular basis but that his household duties often prevent it. And as much as he loves his brothers, he admitted that it would be a huge relief to him if, somehow, they could be taken off his hands. Then, he said, he would be free to complete his studies in his favorite areas, math and French; maybe one day he could even start a small business.

For youths like him, aid organizations are shifting their plans. Where they once would have provided assistance such as emergency food and clothing or helped to repair a family dwelling, they now hope to make the youngsters more self-sufficient, teaching them practical skills such as tailoring, carpentry and metalwork.

In Kibungo province, southeast of Kigali, Alfons Ntigulirwa, 18, and his five siblings, ages 11 to 17, have joined one aid group’s such efforts. They and other youths 13 and older have been organized into associations so they can run small businesses--keeping bees, raising small animals or running bicycle “taxi” services.

Alfons and his family have become beekeepers and, when lucky, sell the honey for a few cents a jar. Their family home was destroyed during the war, so they moved into a mud hut with a neighbor--another teen whose parents and siblings were killed in the genocide.

Only two of the younger children and Alfons attend school. The teen explained that hunger and a shortage of clothes keep the others out of classes.

Instead, the youngsters spend much of their day trying to grow bananas, beans, cassava and sweet potatoes on the plot of land their parents once owned. One of the girls, Alfonsine, 17, also is trying her hand as a seamstress, using a sewing machine donated by an aid group.

But for the most part, she and the other kids are preoccupied with scavenging for food.

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Still, Alfons said that he and his siblings are thankful: They all survived the genocide.

As moderate Hutus, they were targeted for death because they had Tutsi friends, explained Alfons, who is still haunted by nightmares of the massacres he witnessed.

Now, as head of his household, he fights hard to suppress the nocturnal demons so that his younger brothers and sisters won’t see him break down.

Alfons said he is trying to forget the past and instead focus on the future. He said he hopes a positive attitude will help him to fulfill a modest dream: “To get enough food and clothes for my family.”

Simmons was recently on assignment in Kayonza.