Prison centrale de Bukavu

The Flame international team visited ‘Prison Centrale de Bukavu’ on 1st October 2024, made possible by the Bishop of Bukavu and his team. The diocese has a Prison Chaplain who visits regularly, along with womens and youth groups who meet with the prisoners and offer teaching and prayer.  
 
We visited the prison on a Tuesday afternoon, driving across the city on occasional tarmac and dirt roads, deeply rutted and worsened by the recent arrival of rain. The prison building itself had the austere appearance of something Victorian, with high arches in the entrance to the men’s ‘quartier’ under a flat roof, giving the appearance of a fortress, rather than a modern-day site. And certainly, there was nothing modern to be found here. Over 2000 people are crammed into tiny, unsanitary spaces. From photographs, it is apparent that the cells are dark and cramped, with little ventilation.  
 
Protocol dictated that we would first meet the Prison Governor. The team, various Anglican Clergy, and the Bishop squeezed into his small office at the entrance to the prison. The Bishop presented the Governor with gifts of French and Swahili bibles for him, the team, and the prisoners, given by Flame International.  
 
The wall outside the Governor’s office is flanked with a chalkboard totalling the number of people imprisoned at the time: 2029 men, 67 women, 4 girls, 73 boys. There are separate spaces for each, but we saw adults and children intermingled during the teaching.  
 
We then entered the men’s quarter of the prison. A medium-sized open-air courtyard packed with bodies and activity. The space held two structures with corrugated roofs, brick pillars and open sides that looked out onto the central courtyard, with numerous pairs of trousers hanging from the long metal roof trusses that ran the full length of the building. It was into a sea of faces between these two symmetrical buildings that we walked, watched with curiosity.
 
As we entered the space - a mix of white British people carrying a wooden cross, a Rwandan man, and collection of Congolese priests, led by the Anglican bishop - the groups of men parted to the side, strangely ceremonial with the Bishop and the cross, and enforced by non-uniform guards.  

Val, the leader of the group spoke first. A septuagenarian, though you would never know it from her energy and passion, preached Jesus to several hundred Congolese prisoners. From our vantage point, sat behind her in rows of primary-coloured, plastic chairs, we saw her figure framed by the faces of hundreds of Congolese men, standing at least 3 rows deep. Most listened with rapt attention.  Val’s introduction to the personhood of Jesus, and the power of his cross, was followed by Rwandan team member, Bruno, talking powerfully about forgiveness.  A short drama, (bypassing the obstacle of language) showcased each key message.  During the dramas, the semi-circle of attentive faces were enlivened into something akin to Shakespeare’s Globe: young men hung from the metal bars in the buildings behind to see over the crowd, and their rapt delight at dramatic moments of justice and forgiveness brough cheers and applause.  Rhoda followed with teaching about intergenerational sin, and each talk was followed by an opportunity to engage or re-engage with God.  

When it came to a time of active forgiveness, many men came forward to place red paper discs on the wooden cross. The desire to forgive was so overwhelming that notebook pages were torn up to be used for extra markers, and the head of the prison quietly intervened to prevent a scrum.  
 
Bruno’s presence in the prison was particularly significant. For many of these men, conflict with Rwandans has marked their lives or helped to create much of the chaos in Bukavu. For Bruno, a Rwandan man, to stand in front of them and talk about forgiveness, was a powerful and incredibly courageous step. His words were met with humility.    

In a context like Bukavu, you cannot feed the soul, without feeding the body. The need for food is great, in part because rebel action in surrounding villages is limiting farming opportunity and access to food. There is a heavy reliance on cross-border imports from Rwanda, resulting in significant price inflation. In addition, most prisons in East Africa provide little or no food to prisoners, relying on family and friends instead. The team brought large quantities of casava flour, beans, and salt to be cooked for and shared amongst the prisoners.  
 
As the team left, and the crowd once again parted, a group of men climbed on the low walls of the covered outside buildings, and chanted at the team. The translation, we understood, was a powerful statement of blessing. We, with our capacity to walk free through the gates were being honoured for our visit by people who were forced to remain inside.  

Since writing this article we received a message from a pastor to Bishop Bahati, giving the testimony of the prisoner who was present for this visit:

"Hello Bishop,
I’m in the north and I met this man. This man was in the prison by the time you visited the central prison, and he was not yet baptized, but now he has got baptized and he received the Holy Spirit and after the visit of Flame International he was able to receive justice, and now he’s a free man. He stays (lives) here in the north, so I thank you so much Bishop for the great work that you are doing and connecting us, and I was so amazed to meet someone here in the north testifying about the work that was done in the central (prison). So, this man, he is testifying everywhere about the great work of what Jesus did in his life, when he was in the prison.
It's been amazing to see this man and this man is very grateful to God for the justice that he received and for the salvation that he received, this brought us joy in the community, and this man is very happy and grateful to God for what he did for him, and the justice."