Dennis Gathanju, a periodic contributor on my blog, just filed this report from Bujumbura / Burundi which does neither make good reading nor spells well for the country …
Bujumbura Bleeds
I made my last stop in Bujumbura, Burundi after a whirlwind trip from East Africa to the Far East and back to the Middle East. I spent last night in Bujumbura and I am sad to say that Bujumbura is no longer what it was a couple of months ago.
I arrived in Buja at 2.30pm from Addis Ababa, but left the airport at about 6.30pm after being there on some other business. Issa, my longtime driver in Buja, drove me to the city center which was deserted. The Boulevard D’Uprona, one of the most vibrant streets in Buja was eerily quiet. The numerous pubs, restaurants and night clubs that line the busy street were dark and silent; some had their shutters down – closed for business.
The few people driving or walking in the streets seemed to be in a hurry to get out of the city and leave to the safety of their homes and families. We then drove through Bwiza, another bustling neighbourhood in Buja. Even though there still seemed to be life here, it was not what it used to be. I could still see the urgency of the people get clear the streets and retreat to their homes.
And finally, when I went to check-in at my hotel not far from the Ngangara neighbourhood at about 7.30pm, the silence of the night was cut short by the sound of semi-automatic gun fire. The receptionist told me that it was something small and I should not be worried about it. However, I was a little bit concerned of taking a room on the fourth floor in a residential neighbourhood with most of the houses around being bungalows. A stray bullet might head my way while I was in the shower or something. So, I opted to stay on the ground floor. Normally this place would be buzzing at this hour, but it was deathly silent. I am not sure, but I think I was the only guest staying at the hotel last night. Ngangara and Cibitoke are the neighbourhoods in Bujumbura that have witnessed most of the shootings and killings.
And when I retreated to my room, images of the victims of what has been happening in Burundi since April of this year just kept on flashing in my head. When you see such images, it makes one wonder, is it really worth it? The entire place was hauntingly silent and death felt so close.
I said a prayer and it was lights out for me. But when morning came, life on the streets of Bujumbura was back to its normal self. But still, the city looked and felt different from what I knew it to be.
I hope Buja returns to what it was before April this year.
