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| Eliane Umuhire in Bazigaga |
Jo Ingabire Moys is a well presented, confident-looking woman with a steady gaze. She has been living in the UK since she was 14 and her slight foreign accent is no more distinct than that of many second or third generation immigrants. If you met her in the street, you would not guess that she’s a survivor of a bloody genocide which claimed the lives of as many as 800,000 people, including half of her own family. Yet genocide happens to ordinary people in ordinary places, Jo is keen to say. It can happen anywhere, and diligent efforts are needed to guard against the hate which precedes it.
Her new short film, Bazigaga, which is now part of the 2023 Oscar race, takes viewers back to Rwanda in 1994, when the genocide there occurred. It tells the story of a traditional healer – the title character – who is persuaded to shelter a Tutsi pastor and his daughter in her home when the Hutu militia comes looking for them. The irony of the situation is that Bazigaga has suffered social ostracisation as a result of the pastor denouncing her and calling her a witch. She has no supernatural powers’, but only the soldiers’ belief that she does is keeping the soldiers at bay, and keeping her, the pastor and the child alive.
It’s a story with real life inspiration. Zura Karuhimbi was the real life heroine who saved over a hundred people in this way. I asked Jo if she had always wanted to make a film on this subject, or if it was discovering Zura’s story which made all the difference.
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| Bazigaga |
“It was definitely this particular story,” she says. “If anything, I've gone out of my way to avoid this kind of story. But when I found this story, I mean, it’s so compelling. It's such a different approach as well, to the topic of the genocide in Rwanda, and when I found this, I knew that I had had to tell it.
“I wanted to portray this woman as fully human, as fully rounded a character as possible, which is tricky to do, because most of the action really takes place in one place. You only really see her in the confines of her home. So it was a good challenge for me to try and put layers to her character in that scene, and I think giving context to that is really important. Also, it was important because life before genocide informed a lot of the decisions that people made during the genocide. So that was really important, to just bring that life before, and that you see that in this moment in the genocide. She's powerful and vulnerable in equal measure, in a way that was different to her life prior to it.”
We talk about the way that the conflict between the Christian pastor and the traditional healer reflects that between Hutu and Tutsi people.
“it was really important to to just bring that context, because I think at the core of it, obviously, the backstory is doing so. And I wanted to explore, like you said, the tensions between the Hutu and Tutsi people through the metaphor of the Christian and the witch doctor, because in many ways, when you really strip down to it, they are very, very similar. And that's something that I wanted to tease out.
“The position of the traditional healer is still kind of a precarious in society in that people do shun them, they are looked down upon, but they're revered and feared and command a sort of authority in society in ways that many pastors and priests still don't. That's something that I find very, very interesting, and it’s true to Zura Karuhimbi’s life. Before the genocide, she would have been shunned, but then in the genocide she was feared, so she went from being ostracised to actually having a position of power, and nothing she did changed, it’s just how people perceive her. I found that really fascinating.
“I discovered her story at the Kigali Memorial. I'd gone there to research my own personal history. In terms of research, I came to Rwanda and spoke to quite a few people who knew her. I was going to meet her, but then I missed her. Our appointment schedules just didn't line up, and sadly she died a few weeks after. So I was heartbroken that I didn't really get to meet her. But I watched plenty of interviews with her in, and the Kigali Memorial was kind enough to give me the interviews they had of her so I could actually see her in person and listen to her tell me her own story.”
Zura was seen very differently in the aftermath of the conflict, Jo explains.
“She's a hero in Rwanda, she received a Presidential Medal of Honour. And I think she was flown to Italy as part of sort of an honouring celebration of Righteous Among the Nations. And funnily enough, she was so convincing as a witch doctor in the genocide that she spent most of the rest of her life telling people that listen, she was not actually a witch doctor, she was just using that as a pretext, as a cover to help people. She was very, very much loved in a Rwandan society after.”
Something that intrigues me about the film, I tell Jo, is that it’s very effective in communicating the fear experienced during the genocide without directly showing us any violence. Was that an artistic decision or did it stem from budgetary limitations?
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| Bazigaga |
“I wanted to place this story in one location, because I feel like it's the story of two people who, prior to this event, despised each other, who were opposites of each other, who have to survive by working together,” she says. “That to me was the story. So to me that dynamic was more important than anything else, I'd say. So I didn't feel like it was necessary to bring in the violence outside, but I found that you can bring in that violence through the use of the radio.
“I found that, from my personal experience and the stories you hear of people during the genocide, that the threat of genocide, and what made it so awful, is the mental torture aspect of it. And this is what also was exploited by the killers, that they come to your house and tell you ‘We're going to come and kill you,’ and give you an appointment, essentially, and that the mental turmoil that generates is, in many ways, worse than seeing the actual violence. I wanted to convey that.
“The use of radio, I think, in the film, brings in that understanding of the violence that is happening, and it sets the context. And I think, to me, that's in many ways more frightening than actually seeing violence on the screen, that you're hearing that. You know that this is the context and these people are trapped and they have no escape. To me that's more effective in bringing the fear and the terror than gory violence onscreen.”
I suggest that it also gives us the impression that the threat is everywhere, not just immediately outside Bazigaga’s home.
“Absolutely, absolutely. I feel like that heightens the tension and the sense of claustrophobia, and just that hopelessness that it incurs. And what it does to the characters is, it's actually much more interesting, I think, to explore the psychological effect of knowing that there's something awful just outside the window. So that's why I did that. It was always going to be like that, despite the budget.”
It also creates a parallel between the intimidatory tactics of the militia and Bazigaga’s use of her supposed powers to intimidate them.
“Absolutely. That was her great power, right? Her power was psychological manipulation. And it was, in her case, much more powerful than if she were armed and had an arsenal in her living room. She didn't have anything to defend herself with except for her words, and her threat and the performance she was putting on as a witch doctor, and it worked. They say that fact is stranger than fiction. And in this case, it was the threat of what people perceived, it was more powerful than any sort of physical threat. I think to know that actually happened in real life, it just goes to show you the perceived threat is perhaps much more powerful sometimes than even the fear of physical violence.”
From a filming point of view, it’s additionally fascinating because of the way that we get to see her staring and using her gaze to control the situation, because we don't usually see that with female characters on screen. It’s quite a powerful thing.
“Yeah, I think so. I was very drawn to our female lead, Eliane Umuhire. She's got a magnificent face, and that was much like Zura. That's her weapon, that she can express so much through her eyes. It was important that I have an actor who was able to convey that. She was able to show her power through just through her body. And that was all she had. That was her work. And so I was very pleased that Eliane has such a powerful presence that she can convey so much with her eyes.
The actual casting itself was very quick process. We sent out a casting call throughout Europe and Rwanda for Kinyarwanda-speaking actors, but I'd seen Eliane, and Ery Nzaramba, who plays Karambe [the pastor] in plays at different points. So I invited them to audition and they did, and they were fabulous. They were the perfect people to play the characters, and they bring their own personal experiences as well to the roles, which, from a director’s perspective, makes it very easy, because this is a specifically very Rwandan story. What they bring to it is this is so meaningful to us all.”
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| Bazigaga |
We talk about festivals and the attention which the film has received.
“The responses have been really brilliant,” she says. “A film like this, what I hope for is, at the very least, to inform, and it would also spark discussion. And that's what I've got. A lot of people have lots to say after that. Some say ‘I never knew something like that happened,’ or ask me about the role of spirituality in African societies. It sparks their interest in different ways. I'm always surprised about what people take from it, like ‘Oh, I didn’t know witch doctors were perceived like that,’ or there's something about the genocide, or there's something about Rwanda, which is really interesting. But it has sparked conversation, which is great. I'm also moved by how people always remark and say, ‘Oh, actually, I don't think I've seen a film with an African heroine on screen in a long time’. And to see that that's a novelty is heartbreaking, but also it’s good to go ‘Finally!’”
Aside from making films, Jo founded the Ishami Foundation, which works on reducing prejudice against refugees and migrants.
“It's an organisation that basically aims to tackle identity based violence and discrimination,” she explains. It's based in the UK, in England mainly, and we work with genocide survivors and communities to sort of bridge the gap and humanise and put a face to immigrants and refugees, and just show the impact and the positive contributions of refugees in British society. And we also use the stories from Rwanda because we believe that what happened in Rwanda is something that can be a lesson to the rest of the world, so we send speakers to schools to talk about the experience of being in the genocide and moving to the UK as part of Holocaust education as well.”
Does she think that learning from people in that way can help us to prevent genocides in the future, in other contexts?
“I certainly hope so. There’s been the whole ‘never again’ since World War Two and the Holocaust, and sadly, we see what's happening in China. And there's been horrific atrocities since the Second World War. But I do really believe that there are lessons to be learned. And part of the reason why this foundation exists is to highlight how easily a society can descend into madness. That's why we start with identity based discrimination and show people propaganda, what it looks like, that it's not something outlandish that happened in a different time.
“If you open up social media, or if you turn to the news, you can see it, and we are trying to say, ‘This is what it looks like,’ and actively encourage people to actively question what they consume in terms of, say, media, because in Rwanda media was hugely important in rallying people and brainwashing people into killing the Tutsis. So that's what it's about, but also to humanise the immigrant, to humanise the refugee, because they say, ‘Look at us, we are contributing to British society, and we don't have, you know, a tail or three eyes. We are not terrible humans. And also that's partly, again, to counter the anti-immigrant sentiment that you see in the press and in different parties.
“I think our challenge now is very different, with the Tory policy over migration. That’s something that we’re kind of figuring out. We believe that we have lived experience of living in a society where systematic discrimination led to a genocide, but we believe that we can take it to a different society and say ‘These are things to look out for. This is how to prevent that happening,’ and hopefully get people to take that seriously.”
Anybody can make a difference, she says, reflecting on what Zura achieved.
“She was in many ways unremarkable, you know? She was a middle aged African woman in the middle of nowhere who managed to do incredible things to save people when the world basically turned a blind eye. I am really grateful that I had the opportunity to tell her story. Obviously, it's through a fictional narrative, but I want to show that these people who suffered are real people.
“Sometimes when we hear the word ‘genocide’, and like I said, when you hear about what’s happening in China to Uighur people, sometimes we tend to other people who are suffering. But I think having something like this, I hope to humanise and show you a picture of a human going through suffering and how other humans can help. It empowers any person, however normal or average they feel, to say that they can do something to help. No, you don't need to be superheroes to actually contribute positively to society.
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| Bazigaga |
“Hopefully it awakens a few people to other people’s suffering so that we don't just ignore what's happening because it just feels like a very foreign or faraway thing that's happening to people who don't look like us. That's what I hope. That's the purpose of having a day like Genocide Prevention Day, isn't it? To have people think about these things. But actually do something about it. Write to your MP.
“Sometimes there's very little political will, as in the case of Rwanda, to actually stop these atrocities happening, but I do hope people realise that this can happen to anyone and can happen anywhere. And so if you can, actively see what you can do to help other people in a different place who are suffering. But also, within your own community – you know, it sounds quite outlandish and quite extreme, but there's so many cases of how we accept discrimination towards people who we think are different. It's a very easy thing to do, especially in the age of social media, when we all have our echo chambers. We don't realise how we can discriminate against other people, but through time and through space, it really can grow. So it's quite important, every now and then, to check what you're listening to and how it affects how you view the world.”
