“It’s like I’m watching a film of what happened to me.”

Gode Musore, indoctrinated to be a killer (Redemption Songs No. 3)

Gode Musore, who just turned 18, went to Let Africa Live in Bukavu two years ago for vocational education and counseling. He signed up for the only training course available: hairdressing.

To his surprise, he enjoyed the work.

“When I started doing it, I loved it,” he said.

He graduated in July and now has his own hairdressing business.

Only a few years ago, this hairdresser was a ruthless killing machine.

Wearing a green Michigan State Spartans T-shirt emblazoned with the team logo — the helmet of a warrior — he is not reticent about describing his combat experiences. Like a top athlete, he was good at what he did, and he reveled in the camaraderie of his unit in combat.

He regrets killing civilians, but at the same time, he knows he was indoctrinated by the rebels. Counseling helped him adjust to civilian life and recover from the brainwashing he received as a child soldier, he said.

He continues to suffer from disturbing nightmares that linger after he wakes up.

“It’s like I’m watching a film of what happened to me,” said Gode, also known by the nickname Eric. “I see blood, blood, blood.”

Just getting out of bed helps: “I have to get up and think about it,” he said. “It takes time to forget it, but after some minutes, I can.”

The armed men who invaded his home seven years ago gave the family a choice: Either Gode or his father could volunteer. Gode was 10; his father was 45.

When neither agreed to join the rebels’ cause, the soldiers took Gode and marched him into the jungle far from his village of Minova.

At first, the third-grader resisted becoming a rebel and looked for ways to escape. But eventually, he adapted to life as a child soldier. Armed with a lightweight submachine gun, he fought in battle after battle, slaying scores of soldiers and civilians. He fought first for the rebels and later for the government.

He doesn’t want to contemplate how many people he killed but said the number is far more than 40.

“I killed many people,” he said. “I have blood in my mind and on my hands. I feel bad, but sometimes I think it’s not my fault because I was sent by my commander.”

He belonged to a brigade of about 450 soldiers. Beatings were frequent. Many of his friends were killed. He was shot in the knees in separate battles. His commander performed surgery on him both times.

One of the most ferocious battles came when he was 13. Gode woke at 4 a.m. to the sound of enemy soldiers shooting his comrades as they slept. He grabbed his gun and raced to the fighting.

A rival force of about 300 soldiers had surrounded his brigade. His unit lost 30 men in minutes, but Gode and his comrades pushed back the attackers. The fighting continued all day.

The next morning, his brigade launched its own predawn assault. Gode said he was right where he liked to be: in the lead.

“The second day, we wanted revenge because they attacked us first,” he recounted. “We divided into small groups, and we attacked. My group was the first to reach their camp. I was among those who were just in front.”

This time, his brigade drove the enemy toward a village and into the open. Many villagers fled too late and were caught in the crossfire. Gode knows he shot some of them.

“I don’t know the number, but I know there were many,” he said. “I feel bad because of the civilians who died.”

Gode’s brigade was victorious and buried the dead, 47 from his side, 68 from the other. Then the soldiers celebrated.

“We got drunk,” he said. “We had meat. We took beer from the village. It was a big party. I was feeling good, because for me in that period, it was normal, I was fighting.”

Soon after, he was captured by government troops. The army kept him on as a child soldier for more than a year, sending him into several battles where he fought and killed. At 14, he was demobilized because he was a child.

“When I was taken to the jungle, I lost many opportunities,” he said.
“If I didn’t join this armed group, I would be in high school today,
but I lost this chance.”

This story is part of the series Redemption Songs produced by The Center for Investigative Reporting, an independent, nonprofit newsroom based in the San Francisco Bay Area, in partnership with Medium.

The series was edited by Robert Salladay and copy edited by Nikki Frick and Christine Lee. Reporter Richard C. Paddock can be reached at rpaddock@cironline.org. Photographer Larry C. Price can be reached at lcprice@mac.com.

The nonprofit Eastern Congo Initiative provided logistical support for this project. It also provides funding for Let Africa Live and ETN.