In June-July 2008, the Legacy Project visited South Africa, including stops in Pretoria, Soweto, Johannesburg, Cape Town, and Kimberley. We are now reviewing and transcribing the many, many hours of footage we shot there. As we move through the process, we will highlight occasional excerpts here.
From an interview with Bertin Mogishu Baharane, representative of the DRC refugees in the Youngsfield Refugee Camp:
Question: What can you tell us about the life here in this refugee camp and what it’s like for the people here – both for people from the DRC and for people from other countries as well.
Bertin: What I can say about the conditions in the camp. OK, firstly I can thank the government because we are here and I can walk at night without fear that somebody is going to kill me with a knife or going to shoot me. Here it is different from the township where we are living. At least that security is there. But, life in general, as a human being have to live, really is very, very bad. From the dormitory, I mean the tent, to the toilets, the bathroom, foods – it is a disaster. I’m very sorry to say that. I’m regretful. Yet, there’s other services which I can’t say that. I can say this is a disaster.
OK. Let’s talk about food. We eat rice. Since when we are here, we eat the same food. We never even change. Even once. Almost two months we eat the same food. We eat on the ground. There’s no table, there’s no chair. Some beds, sometimes, we jump each other’s food. OK, we’ve got ten showers. Those ten showers, we are sharing them, we are more than 1000 people here. We are sharing them with women, children, men, everybody, you see? And as far as dignity is concerned, really, we know more from women than we should know, because women receive some privacy. And now we know many things from them – you know, we’re African. We’ve got our way. We’re educated. You can’t know what your mother do and what you know… things like that is our privacy. But that we know, because of the way they are mixing us. I can’t believe that until now that the government of South Africa can provide ten showers for 1000 people only because they are refugees. I believe that, even myself, I’m ten years in the country and I pay tax. I pay tax. Where goes my tax money? Why I have to share a shower with my mother, my granny, my grandpa? They are in there. That is very, very shameful. And you know, we are here, Muslim and Christian. Muslim women, especially those from the corner of Africa – Ethiopia, Somalia, and others – they respect men. They can’t share bathroom with men, you know? And they have to do that, because you have to wash.
OK, that is the bathroom. Let’s talk about inactivity in the camp. There is inactivity in the camp. OK, I try to keep myself busy. I write stories… I read. But not everybody can do that. Inactivity leads to many dangers. Inactivity can lead to drug abuse, prostitution, rape, all those things. You can see people there who are just sitting. Young men, sitting. They are waiting for what – for their fate, I don’t know. If somebody really cared after us, would think about this inactivity… Some children, like Danny, who is next to you, go to school, but they can’t go to school anymore because he is here. Some women are here – life after the camp – they will do something this free time. Maybe sewing, maybe cutting, maybe you know? Maybe something like that. But we want to double that. Who cares?
I mean, there is, even the way we are looked after – the security in the camp, also. The security in the camp includes some kind of intimidation. We are in the military base, but sometimes we see police come here. Police are very frustrated, because police – I can tell you police, they’re very bad people here in South Africa. If they catch you and they know that you are a foreigner, they will now treat you very, very differently. And when we see police here, we are very frustrated. I remember in Maitland in 2005, we’re driving to Cape Town, but one light was broken. And they stopped us there. They stopped us next to the Maitland police station. They ask, where are you driving in this? So we say, we are going to Cape Town for an emergency. “Hey, get out of the car, you foreigners!” We get out of the car. I asked the one policemen, not because we are foreigners – is it because we are foreigners that you are taking us out of the car or because there is no light? And you other people are shutting up – you are talking. They tell other people to go. I stayed there. They put me in a very small room, they took off their belts, their gun they put down. There was five of them. One captain was a white guy, there was three coloureds, and the one black guy. And they start to beat me. And they beat me and they beat me, until one eye was closed. And this side was like paralyzed. And they ask me, where are you staying, where are you staying? I said no – I lied to them that I was not staying in Maitland, where I didn’t want them to know where I was staying. But I knew that I’ve got people next to Maitland, which is Woodstock. I told them no, let go, I’m staying to Woodstock. They dropped me, just on the road like this – hey, go out! I went out and my eyes were swollen, just like that. I opened a case against that captain. After two weeks, they said the case was – they didn’t accept my case. And what can I do? I can’t fill out things that – I didn’t know anybody who can help me. I say ok, let me leave; it ended just like that. So, the security in the camps is very, very intimidating. Soldiers who are patrolling with guns. Women are traumatized. We are – some people – to see a gun… It is very traumatizing for a refugee who saw those things in his country and ran away here. And to see someone… especially to see a black man with this stuff, you know, is very, very traumatizing. I mean, it is good, the security, but somewhere or someone is traumatized. We need at least people, if they can thing about it, to be very, very good things.