Bazigaga

Somewhere between 500,000 and 800,000 people, mostly Tutsi, died during the Rwandan genocide in 1994. Faced with numbers like these, it can be difficult to understand it in human terms. Jo Ingabire Moys, who escaped the conflict as a child but lost half her family, condenses aspects of what happened into this Oscar-qualifying short film and shows viewers around the world that genocide isn’t something remote and incomprehensible, but something which can happen to any society is hatred is allowed to build within it.

The title character, Bazigaga (Eliane Umuhire), is a traditional healer, a woman on who many members of her local community privately depend but who is publicly shunned as a result of the actions of Christian pastor Karembe (Ery Nzaramba), who has branded her a witch. This has made her life very difficult, but it has also given her a certain power. When Karembe and his young daughter seek shelter in her home, which is quickly besieged by Hutu soldiers, she must exploit the fear which the soldiers have of her supposed powers in order to keep the father and child safe.

Set in Ruhango in June of that bloody year, the film was inspired by the true story of Zura Karuhimbi, a healer who used the same technique to save hundreds of lives. She is shown, briefly, in an archive interview clip at the end. Like her, Bazigaga is not a woman who believes that she has supernatural abilities, but she knows that everything depends on her appearing to believe it – that if her confidence falters for an instant, she too will lose her life. Umuhire is tremendous in conveying both her terror and the force of will it takes for her to face down a militia leader who likes to tell himself – and everybody else – that he doesn’t believe the stories about her. When push comes to shove, which of them will hold out longest?

Whilst the soldiers mill around outside, trying to face what to do, Karembe is forced to reassess his feelings about this woman upon whom he and his child depend not just for protection but for healing, with none of the modern medicines they’re used to available. He must overcome his own instinctive fears, especially when she leads the girl out of his sight, and come to terms with what he has done. Through his internal conflict, Moys is able to present a more nuanced take on larger events, exploring the psychology behind prejudice and acknowledging that society cannot easily be divided into those who harbour it and those who do not. She also presents a richer portrait of Rwandan society than other films addressing the conflict have managed to do across much longer running times.

As in many a successful short, there is also some heavy lifting done by the set dressing, which tells us a good deal about Bazigaga’s profession and her social situation whilst giving her home a real lived-in feeling. There is good work done by the sound department too, as the protagonists huddle together, straining their ears to try to work out what’s happening outside. Meanwhile intermittent radio broadcasts provide information about the larger picture, adding to the tension by making it clear that even if the pastor and his daughter escape their immediate peril, they will have a long and difficult journey to safety. In the West, any number of horror films invite us to imagine what it might be like if members of our own societies suddenly turned against us. This is the real thing.

Chilling and inspiring in equal measure, this film is a warning about just how easily it can all go wrong, and it is a powerful piece of cinema.