Maison Rouge: Memories of a Childhood in War

Note: Throughout the review, Liliane Leila Juma will be referred to as “Leolina”, her childhood nickname, given to her by her beloved father.

Ten years before Liliane Leila Juma, her mother, three sisters and two brothers arrived in a UNHCR (UN High Commissioner for Refugees) camp, “blessed with the love and support of family, friends and neighbours”, (p. 16) they lived in Maison Rouge, a large house, painted red on the outside walls and indoor floor. Leolina’s beloved Papa ran musical and theatrical groups, and her mother worked, not only in his artistic enterprises, but also in several other small business ventures. They were prosperous, and, in addition to Maison Rouge, the family compound included outbuildings that Mr. Juma had built for extended family and servants. Although affluent, they were charitable; Papa Juma believed strongly that “what we have . . . we need to share with others. We came to this world empty-handed and will leave empty handed. Only our good deeds will last. That’s the only thing we will be remembered for.” (p. 21)

Childhood was idyllic, and, although the Juma family were Muslim, Leolina and her siblings attended a Catholic elementary/secondary school which accepted children of all faiths and ethnicities. Uvira was a tolerant place; however, their home city in western Congo on the northernmost shores of Lake Tanganyika borders on two nations, Burundi and Rwanda, both of which become conflict zones in 1993 and 1994, respectively. Starting in October of 1993, refugees from war-torn Burundi began streaming into Uvira, and, by April of 1994, Rwandan refugees had swelled the tide of those leaving Burundi. After two more years, Congo, itself, was engulfed in a civil war and soon Maison Rouge became a refugee camp as the local people began to flee. The Juma family decided to leave their home, intending to go to South Africa, via Zambia. However, Zambian immigration authorities denied them entry.

Time passes, and, while the family experiences joy at the birth of Lela’s baby brother, Moise, Leolina experiences profound sadness as she witnesses the transition of Amani, a former schoolmate, into a child soldier. Other social changes occur: girls can no longer wear jeans, and one day, for defying the edict, Lela is arrested by the military. The Major in charge of the arresting soldiers happens to know Leolina’s father; Papa Juma paid for the education of the Major’s sister who is now a doctor. That personal connection is enough to secure Leolina’s release and emboldened by the Major’s kindness, she asks him to release the other girls and women: “That rule about girls wearing pants has never been enforced before.” (p. 55) Nevertheless, life remains perilous. One day, Amani shows up outside their former school. It’s clear that his experiences have left him with PTSD, but, in a rare moment of clarity and humanity, Amani tells Leolina that he loves her before he disappears again into the ranks of the zombie-like children whose souls have been destroyed by war and killing.

One of the most traumatic events of the book is described in the chapter “The Last Good Time.” As Leolina and her beloved father are returning home from an afternoon at a patisserie and yogurt shop, the road is slowed down by UN Food Program trucks. “Some trucks were filled with munitions, some with uniformed boys and girls – armed tyrant-solders. Others were loaded with dead bodies. The sun was no longer shining warm and clear. The air felt cold and smelled of blood.” (p. 61) Shortly after, Papa Juma is arrested; Lela’s mother refuses to leave him, and she, too, is imprisoned. Desperate, Leolina goes to the prison, and, once again, the Major who had granted her clemency for wearing jeans orders the commandos to release Maman. Meanwhile, the military goes from house to house, rounding up all the men and boys and then executing them, en masse at the local stadium. As for her father, Omar Juma, he has been killed.

Maison Rouge is destroyed by rocket fire, and life on the run begins. “The nights and days passed, and my family and I kept walking with no clean water and little food. Our people spent weeks fleeing from the war, but the war kept following us.” (p. 86) It’s a long walk south along Lake Tanganyika, and everywhere, the shattered family witnesses rampant destruction and despair. Escape attempts to cross Lake Tanganyika by boat are foiled when they are intercepted by rebel troops. The passengers are robbed, and the rebel soldiers select women and girls who will be raped. When one of the rebel soldiers selects Leolina, her mother insists that she will accompany her daughter, and they, along with other women, follow the “zombie rebels” along a path that leads to the edge of a waterfall. But, when two of the soldiers try to ford the river that feeds the falls, they are swept away, and the leader of the party has them turn back and they return to the lakeshore. One of soldiers guarding the rest of the party recognizes Leolina and speaks fondly of her father and his contributions to the community. When Maman asks the young man why he is with these soldiers, he replies, “I was first recruited by the Mobutu army, then the Kabila militias, finally I ended up with these demons. I had no choice.” (p. 103)

Life as a refugee is also a life with few or no choices. Miraculously, Leolina, her family, and the others trying to cross Lake Tanganyika are rescued and travel to Tanzania, arriving at the UNHCR camp. In one of life’s amazing coincidences, Leolina encounters Yayabo, a woman who had arrived at Maison Rouge years before and had been given refuge by Papa Juma. Yayabo betrayed Papa Juma to the rebels, and, when Leolina is faced with her, she states that “I could not bring myself to look at her or acknowledge her presence.” The next day, when Yayabo calls out to her, Leolina sees that she is experiencing terrible emotional pain, greater even than her own grief. True to her father’s spirit, Leolina extends forgiveness because Papa Juma taught her that failure to forgive “gives power to those who have wronged you.” (p. 122)

Refugees wait patiently as their documents and requests to find a new home are processed. Canada accepts the Juma family, and, being Francophone, they settle in Quebec. Like many a political immigrant before them, they resigned themselves to the reality that returning to their home was impossible. Leolina ends the story, thankful that Canada accepted the family, but admitting that “compared to the good times we had in the Congo before the wars – surrounded by friends and family – life here in Canada is often lonely.” (p. 123)

Maison Rouge is a memoir of a childhood spent in wartime; life changes from peace and security to an existence fraught with desperation, deprivation, violence, and ongoing terror. Former friends become enemies, and kindness can be rewarded with treachery. English is Leolina’s third language, and her narrative is clear and direct. In fact, the simplicity of her narration is all the more powerful than it would be if she had offered descriptions of violence. The horrible realities of wartime experience in Burundi, Rwanda and the Congo are presented directly: the mental corruption of child soldiers, the use of rape as a weapon of war, the sheer terror of one’s life being blown up and destroyed. Leolina never forgets the lessons of charity and forgiveness taught by her father, and she is obviously sustained by her Muslim faith. Perhaps because of that faith, she and her mother are both women of strength and spirit, and they keep their family together, against all the odds. At the end, Leolina she is frank in admitting that life has changed forever. But, although she did not achieve her childhood dream of becoming a doctor, the “Acknowledgments” which end the book tell me that she has found healing of her own in the life that she now lives.

Maison Rouge is worth acquiring for both middle school and high school library collections. Although the suggested age range is 13-16, it is accessible reading about a difficult topic, and I think that older students would find it worthwhile, both as a memoir and as an insight into the impact of conflict on someone of their own age.