Goma refugees in Rwanda
Ordinary men and women, carrying their children and belongings, along with United Nations staff and their families, as well as members of the armed forces from the DRC and their allied groups, are all entering Rwanda.
The country’s open-door policy for refugees has rarely been tested to this extent.
People seeking safety tell stories of looting, of homes being broken into, and recount the sight of young boys bearing arms.
“Do you see that little boy over there?” asked a Ugandan man who had been in Goma for business, pointing at a twelve-year-old boy. “Many like him now have guns, and you have to do what they say, give them what they want… Understand?”
The out-of-breath man lifted his trouser leg to reveal dollars stuffed in his sock. “We were hiding our money in every way we could think of.”
Others have carried the children who could not walk on their backs, shoulders, or held them close to their chests.
They tied a few belongings in large cloths, balancing them on their heads while carrying smaller bags by their sides as they headed towards the safety of Rwanda.
Initially, there was a steady stream of around three hundred people, followed by a stronger flow.
On the Rwandan side of the border, police ushered them forward.
Little children scurried after their parents or teenage siblings, some teenagers appearing as though they had made an effort to look presentable despite the circumstances, smart mobile phones in hand.
Those carrying heavy loads began to slow down, lagging behind. The police stopped everyone to give them a moment to set down their burdens and catch their breath.
This was clearly the first opportunity the exhausted group had to properly secure their belongings.
They were eager to share what had happened to them with anyone willing to listen.
Telling their stories seemed to be a plea for help.
“They came into the house,” said one middle-aged woman to no one in particular. “There is shooting everywhere… this is all I could bring.”
With a faint smile on her face, she appeared bemused, anxious, surprised by her circumstances, yet relieved, but still mentally tethered to the events she had just escaped.
The Rwandan police appeared to fully understand the situation.
They waited patiently until they noticed people who had sat down beginning to stand and prepare to move again, then ushered everyone forward.
They were led to minibuses and lorries, which would take them to a reception centre in Rugerero.
Rwanda’s Ministry in Charge of Emergency Management (MINEMA) coordinated several agencies and institutions to transform an area of open ground into a space where people could be received in relative comfort.
Engineers were brought in to provide temporary shelter and sanitation, while healthcare workers, including those from the Rwanda Red Cross, and the ever-present Rwanda Youth Volunteers were there to register individuals and direct them to whatever assistance they required.
The preparation of the camp was a race against the elements; the heavens could not be relied upon to wait until everyone was under shelter before they opened.
The M23/AFC (Congo River Alliance) rebels had given members of the national army (FARDC) an ultimatum to lay down their arms within forty-eight hours.
When the deadline arrived, instead of surrendering in an orderly manner, many soldiers discarded their uniforms for civilian clothing and joined a coalition of armed groups allied with the Congolese army, including the so-called Democratic Forces for the Liberation of Rwanda (FDLR). This led to chaos and forced a wave of refugees to flee to Rwanda.
At the border, they were disarmed and taken to a youth centre a few kilometres from Rugerero, which had been secured to accommodate them.
Among the approximately one hundred individuals, there were two officers—a lieutenant and a police captain. Both appeared as if their uniforms had just been freshly pressed, as if they had emerged from a rest and recuperation facility.
In contrast, their fellow soldiers, mostly middle-aged men and one woman, looked tired, weary, defeated, and resigned.
Most of them, judging by their attire, demeanour, and lost, bewildered expressions—as though wondering how they came to be in that situation—were part of the so-called “Wazalendo,” a mix of armed groups, including hastily recruited conscripts drafted to fight against the M23/AFC.
“We are tired,” one soldier said wearily—three words that captured the disappointment and futility of their mission, prompting them to lay down their arms and walk into Rwanda.
His distant expression seemed to convey a sense of resignation: enough was enough.
Elsewhere, on Wednesday, Rwanda was set to receive around forty staff members from the World Bank, only to find that they were accompanied by other stranded individuals—some Congolese, some Ugandan, and even a few Rwandans—and their families.
All of them will be processed and provided for until, in most cases, they can return to their normal lives.
As for the military personnel, they will be detained or repatriated in accordance with international law.
