Zambia Remembers
How I learned to transform remembrance into action for peace in my community
I’m from Zambia, a country in southern Africa that epitomizes nature at its best and at its worst. Consider the majestic Victoria Falls, one of the Seven Wonders of the World on our border with Zimbabwe, which impresses tourists and locals alike, but also symbolizes the wide chasm that divides my country along tribal lines. Sometimes I wonder if we as a nation will find a way to transcend the divide or perpetuate it? Will we soar like birds into the sky or splinter into pieces like dead wood that plunge over the edge?
Since gaining our independence from Britain in 1964, Zambia has been a relatively peaceful country. Our first president, Dr. Kenneth Kaunda famously coined the statement “One Zambia, One Nation.” On the surface, this ideal has held true, but if I’m honest with myself, the signs of division have always been evident. I’ve witnessed my countrymen vote along tribal lines all my life and it’s quite normal to consider some tribes better than others. I grew up in a community and among peers that felt at peace while holding prejudices against one another.
I remember watching the movie Hotel Rwanda as a freshman in college in 2014. At that time, the issue of genocide or ethnic conflict seemed a world away. I thought Rwandans must have really hated one another to reach the point of mass murder. I just didn’t fully understand how something like that could happen. It felt hard to relate Rwanda’s experience to my own in Zambia. But that was about to change.
By 2016, I had taken on several student leadership roles at Copperbelt University, one of which gave me an opportunity to work directly with President Kaunda. Before I knew it, I was on a plane to Rwanda to attend the 2016 Ubumuntu International Youth Conference, a life-changing experience. One evening there, I sat down to reflect on all that I had learned — the causes of the genocide in Rwanda, the testimonies of the survivors, and the stories of the heroes who saved lives. I learned about genocides that had happened throughout history and across cultures. I could relate to the stories and struggles now. A voice within said, “Zambia, this could have been you.” Rwanda didn’t seem so different from Zambia after all, except for the fact that we could still prevent massive ethnic violence from breaking out. It wasn’t too late, or so I thought.
During the 2016 general elections the Bemba and Tonga tribes rose up against one another in the name of politics and tribal violence rocked the country. If you were a Tonga, you were to vote for the United Party for National Development (UPND). If you were a Bemba, you were to vote for the Patriotic Front (PF). If you did otherwise, you were considered a traitor.
Fortunately, while in Rwanda, I connected with the leaders of STAND: The Student-led Movement to End Mass Atrocities, who encouraged me to attend a conference dedicated to peacebuilding at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. That’s when I first heard about Together We Remember (TWR), which combines technology, art, and activism to transform remembrance of the past into a powerful tool for building peace in the present.
I learned how TWR mobilizes schools and communities across the world to organize interactive vigils that commemorate victims of violent hatred throughout history and celebrate the heroes who’ve confronted it. The ethos of remembering humanity at its worst to inspire humanity to be its best resonated deeply, inspiring me to imagine how we could organize a TWR vigil in Zambia.
A few months ago, that dream became a reality at Copperbelt University. We gathered government officials, students, and other members of the community to listen to the testimonies of both victims and perpetrators of the violence that had rocked our community just a year ago. Parents of injured students and students who went to jail shared their stories. There we were, Bemba and Tonga, sharing a healing experience in peace and solidarity with one another. We created a new sense of community and found new energy to counter the traditional, divisive narratives about our respective tribes.
The Minister of Higher Education and District Commissioner both expressed interest in spreading the Together We Remember program to other universities across the country. I continue to hear positive feedback from students as well.
There’s much work to be done, but now we are moving in the right direction. There’s no doubt that we’ll be organizing another Together We Remember vigil in April for Genocide Awareness and Prevention Month in solidarity with other communities hosting similar events around the world.
I’ve learned that every country around the world has the potential to embody the best and worst of nature, but citizens and leaders have the power to choose which way things go. By transforming remembrance into action, we can counter violent hatred and give new meaning to the phrase “One Nation, One Zambia.” But why stop at the national level? Why not “One Nation, One Zambia, One World” united in peace?
Join us on the right side of history.
Visit TogetherWeRemember.org to learn more about TWR and sign up to organize a vigil in your community.
