Bizimungu Dieudonne: Before the Silence

I vividly remember the concert they held at Nyamirambo Stadium [in Kigali, Rwanda]. It was wonderful, and many people attended,” recalls Noella Marie Akayezu. “They sang ‘Ibango ry’Ibanga’, then came together in the middle, responding to each other; it was very touching to watch.”

Noella is recounting one of the rare memories she has of her parents, Bizimungu Dieudonne and Agnes Uwimbabazi Bizimungu. She was just nine years old when they were brutally killed during the Rwandan Genocide in 1994.

Bizimungu and Agnes, both born in 1959, met at secondary school and married in 1983. A schoolteacher, Bizimungu was interested in Rwanda’s culture and mythology. The tales of the spirit leader, Ryangombe, fascinated him, as did his country’s music, and he learnt to play the inanga, an East African zither, before learning to play the melodies on guitar. He implored his wife to join him in singing the impressionistic songs he was writing. Agnes, a devout Catholic, was unsure – she wanted to sing about her faith. They compromised, and in the late 1980s, they self-released Inzovu Y’Imirindi with a tight-knit group of musicians. On the title-track, Bizimungu’s raspy voice foresees the arrival of Munini (‘the grand one’) over hypnotic, electric grooves. While on ‘Imbabazi Twese’ and ‘Inyange Ibarusha Kwera’, Agnes’ voice is accompanied by acoustic guitar as she sings in Kinyarwanda of looking after family and the ‘mother of God’, respectively. A guest vocalist, Bigirimana Augustin, is brought in for ‘Tabara Ryangombe’, a tribute to the spirit leader who had captivated Bizimungu. Musicians including Kagambage Alexandre (guitar), Iranga (drums) and Niyongamije Emmanuel (backing vocals) rounded out the group. The musicians were beginning to make a name for themselves – in 1988, Agnes won a singing contest in Kigali, beating established Rwandan names.

Left (L-R): Niyongamije Emmanuel (brother of Agnes Uwimbabazi), Bizimungu Dieudonne, Agnes Uwimbabazi (courtesy of Mississippi Records)

But the record was made in a country sliding toward tragedy. Though the genocide wouldn’t happen for some years, tensions and divisions were already tearing at the seams of national unity when they went into the studio. Since independence in 1962, cycles of violence, discrimination, economic strain and the rise of Hutu nationalism had deepened tensions, leaving Rwanda highly unstable. A civil war erupted in 1990 when the Tutsi-led Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF) invaded Rwanda. With Kigali under attack and the government retaliating with the first mass targeting of Tutsis, Bizimungu, Agnes and their family fled to Zaire (now the DRC), but they struggled to settle.

By 1994, when the genocide began, they were back in Rwanda, and like many Tutsis, Bizimungu and Agnes were murdered, along with bandmates Bigirimana Augustin and Niyongamije Emmanuel. Across 100 days of unimaginable horror in 1994, an estimated 800,000 to one million Tutsis were killed by the Hutu-led extremist government.

To listen to Inzovu Y’Imirindi today is to be stirred by sentiment – many of its themes feel like premonitions, with Bizimungu’s lyrics reflecting the world around him. Though not overtly political, the words call for unity while echoes of impending conflict are found within Tutsi legends and folk tales. ‘Let me tell you, you who don’t know, the elephant of great strides brings war’, he sings over fuzzy guitar licks on the upbeat title-track. On the stripped-back ‘Imbabazi Twese’, Agnes’ soft vocal gently pleads over hand claps, ‘Let’s forgive one another. Let us forgive all. That peace prevails where we live.’

Inzovu Y’Imirindi seemed lost forever, preserved only in the memories of those who had heard it. That is, until last year, when it was lovingly reissued through an incredible journey of survival. Music scholar Matthew Lavoie had spent 20 years collecting tapes from his travels across Africa, detailing them all on his Music Time in Africa and Wallahi Le Zein blogs. The first cassette he posted about, in 2007, was Inzovu Y’Imirindi. At the time he wrote: “About a year ago, I was going through a crate of assorted cassettes and was excited to find a dozen Rwandan recordings, among them was one by Bizimungu Dieudonne. I immediately loved everything about his music. As I listened, I started asking Rwandan colleagues, journalists and musicians about him. It seems that today Bizimungu Dieudonne is largely forgotten.” As he set about finding out more about his favourite cassettes, he played the albumto Cyrus Moussavi at Mississippi Records.

“Matthew shared the music while we were travelling in Burkina Faso together. He said it was unlike anything else he’d heard, and I agreed,” explains Cyrus. “The only information we had when we first heard the tape was that the band had been killed during the genocide. It seemed important to know who these people were, what they had to say.”

To help bring the record back to life and track down the story behind it, Cyrus turned to Uganda-born journalist, music researcher and curator Jackson Mvunganyi for help. “There was no information. Just like a lot of cultural project products in Africa, specifically in Rwanda, it’s a black hole, so you have to kind of piece things together one by one,” says Jackson.

After a thorough investigation, Jackson learned that Bizimungu and Agnes had a daughter, Noella, who had survived the genocide, but tracking her down proved difficult. His breakthrough came when he found a YouTube video of Noella being interviewed on a radio show. Jackson contacted the station and eventually travelled to Kigali to see her in person.

Though Noella’s family lost nearly everything during the genocide, she was able to locate photographs and, importantly, possessed a CD with the master recordings of Inzovu Y’Imirindi, given to her by one of the group’s original producers. Upon meeting Jackson, she signed a contract granting rights to Mississippi Records.

“Bringing it back is what will keep it from disappearing, so that those who come after us will know our origins,” explains Noella. “I had also tried to protect it through RDB [Rwanda Development Board], but it wasn’t enough. Those who want this music can’t easily find it to buy and enjoy, or to experience it again.” Thankfully, that has now changed.

Since being reissued, the album has found new audiences and garnered plaudits from music obsessives around the world. The reissue contains a booklet of translated lyrics produced with the help of celebrated Rwandan writer Scholastique Mukasonga, as well as Noella’s photos. Mississippi Records have now shared plans to host an album release event in Kigali later this year, specifically designed to make these songs and the story behind them available to a younger generation of Rwandans.

“Longer term, I can never predict what kind of impact these projects will have or what kind of response they’ll inspire. All I know is that interesting and unusual things happen when powerful music like this recirculates in the world,” says Cyrus hopefully.

For Noella, seeing her family’s music reach new audiences is understandably important. “I believe this will play a role in encouraging people to reflect again on cultural values and the dignity of being Rwandan. Additionally, the love they sang about, I wish it for all Rwandans in general, and especially for the youth, who are the future.”

She keeps the memories she has with them close to her heart. She recounts one time when she was able to join them for a performance at Centre Culturel Franco Rwandais in Kigali: “The audience requested that I go and sing with them. I joined them on stage and we sang together. It was so amazing to see myself singing with my parents. I miss that.”

+ ‘Inyange Ibarusha Kwera’ is on this issue’s compilation, track 15