ABSTRACT
Erected at one end of the Kanombe District Office parking lot, the Gacaca (pronounced ga-cha-cha) court, literally translated as justice on the grass in Kinyarwanda, is a collection of crudely constructed benches under the shade of a semi-permanent tarp. A truck arrives in the compound with two men, dressed in neatly pressed pink prisoners’ uniforms, sitting on the sides of the open box. The prisoners climb out of the back of the truck while the driver, who is also their armed police escort, gets out of the front. The crowd of approximately 100 people, who have been slowly gathering over the past hour, begin to find seats within the space delineated by the tarp. Once a week, members of the community descend upon this court to participate in this resurrected and modernized form of traditional Rwandan dispute-resolution mechanism. This day, two men who have previously pled guilty to their crimes under
the provisions outlined in the Gacaca Organic Law No 40 (2001) (later revised as Organic Law No 16; Government of Rwanda 2004a), will have their cases heard before the Inyangamugayo (literally translated as persons of integrity) who are community-elected judges in a process open to the entire community. The two accused prisoners take a seat in the front row, under the tarp, sitting beside and amongst other members of the community. Prior to the arrival of the judges, a brief exchange of greetings occurs between the accused and some members of the community. The formal arrival of the eight judges, each adorned with a sash in the blue and yellow colours of the Rwandan flag and inscribed with the word Inyangamugayo, take their seats behind a wooden table at the front of the court. In addition to the police escort, a red-uniformed individual representing the local defence force stands
guard with an automatic weapon, under the shade of a nearby tree. The president of the court addresses the gathering and proceeds through a variety of formalities that signal the beginning of the court session. The first defendant’s case is called before the court. It is June 2005. The
accused, who has been incarcerated since 1994, stands at the front of the court. He is facing a charge of manning a roadblock, while in possession of a firearm, in the district of Kanombe, in rural Kigali, during the 1994 genocide. Although many people were killed at or in the vicinity of this roadblock, no evidence is presented to suggest that he directly participated in any of the killings. However, as part of his confession, the law compels him to provide the court with any information that he has regarding the events that transpired during that time, regardless of whether he was personally involved or not. A judge presents him with the legislated guidelines regarding confessions and their ramifications to ensure that he understands them; he reads his written confession before all in attendance. Witnesses present at the court verify his confession. The Inyangamugayos then make a determination in accordance with the law as to whether the confession is sincere, truthful, and full. All persons in attendance are included in the process, and they are permitted to ask questions of the accused, through the judges, as well as also participate in the discussions that may inform the judges’ eventual decision. Approximately five and half hours after the start of the trial – without any
breaks and continuing through a torrential downpour that lasted for almost an hour and a half – the judges leave the confines of the tarped area and move to a room in the District Office to discuss and render their decision on the case. Upon their return, 15 to 20 minutes later, they read their decision before the court. For his participation in the genocide, as outlined in his confession, the defendant receives a sentence of imprisonment for 12 years, plus 6 months of community service; the 12 years of imprisonment are imposed for manning the roadblock! The defendant, who had been sitting with his head down and his hands
covering his face during the pronouncement of the sentence, upon hearing the verdict lifts his head up with a decidedly relieved look on his face. With the time he has already served, his term of imprisonment is now finished. The local prison will hold one less detainee, at least for the time being, in the same overcrowded and arguably substandard conditions that exist throughout Rwanda. Before finalizing the decision, a judge reads the entire hand-written tran-
script of the trial. The people in attendance openly discuss the transcripts for further clarification, amending them where required and, then, verify them one last time by signing the document. At the Kanombe District Gacaca, one trial was completed on that day and the other case held over to the following week. As the crowd disperses, his father among them, many address the defendant in what appears to be sentiments of congratulations. According to Domitilla Mukantaganzwa, Executive Director of the Gacaca
Jurisdiction in Kigali, throughout the country there are approximately
760,000 outstanding cases that still require adjudication (Mukantaganzwa 2004). This single case may seem insignificant in the context of such numbers. However, given the circumstances that existed within Rwanda in the aftermath of the genocide – as part of a larger, multifaceted judicial process including the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (hereafter referred to as ICTR), the Rwandan National Courts, and third-party trials adjudicated in foreign countries – each genocide case that is successfully completed demonstrates a culmination of extensive efforts to address the crimes of the genocide. As part of the Rwandan government’s efforts to adjudicate individuals accused of genocide crimes, the proceedings in Kanombe during 2005 were part of a national pilot-project utilizing Gacaca.
