[Continued from HERE.]

The fact is any discussion concerning population issues in Rwanda can not be had without a discussion of land (not the case with China.)

Despite the genocide just over a dozen years ago, Rwanda is so small, so crowded, that there is a dire shortage of land upon which each family can raise their children. Back in the day, after independence, family plots were given of dimensions suitable for raising a “respectable” size family (6, 9, 12+ ... “the larger the family, the wealthier the family” was the perception of the time.) Sons would normally be given plots upon which to raise their family when the time came by the Bashingatahe, or council of elders… except that it so started that when the time came, there were no more plots to available to be given. As a result, family plots began dividing and subdividing and subdividing again.

When I first went to Rwanda, what primarily struck me was that every single mountainside, every valley wall, no matter how steep, was being cultivated one way or another. I thought the people very industrious and hard working, which may be true, but my analysis was also a bit off. The fact of the matter was/is/and will probably always be, that there were more families than plots of land with agriculture not only being necessary for nourishment, but also to make clear to others that, “Sorry, this plot is taken.”

During my time living in both Rwanda and neighboring Burundi (a country with very similar and related issues to Rwanda, including overpopulation) and working with refugees from both countries, I saw a family of eight people (five of them children under thirteen years old) massacred because of a property line dispute of twelve inches. Twelve inches, to families in either of these countries, can be the difference between their children having enough to eat or not, can be the difference in being able to split their small plots for each of their children so that they have a future that is in some small way secure (because as we all know, land ownership is not a small thing.)

Let’s play the “just imagine” game. If a couple has only the Rwandan national average of six children, supposing that half are girls and half are boys, each of the boys will need a plot of land in order to get married (the girls will go to the plot of land of their betrothed’s family). If each son in our imaginary family gets a third of a plot that was originally intended for just one family, they may be able to eek out an existence, but what then for their children? Even if they submit to the new government suggestions and have only three children, but two of them are boys, the plot would need to be subdivided once again. Chances are, those plots would only be large enough for family members to stand on one foot and take turns to sleep lying down … forget a house, subsistence farming and a bit of room to breath! Please don’t forget, we are not talking about urban blight, here … this is a very real scenario for the countryside!

From the land perspective alone, I think even three children is quite a conservative figure. It is one that was probably chosen because of the post-genocide sense that birth is giving life to the country as well as giving a nod to cultural norms.

Part of my work while in Rwanda and Burundi was to perform an assessment with refugees from both countries which included looking at the roots of conflict. The number one reason for both local and national conflict, according to the five hundred people with whom I performed the assessment, was not tribe/ethnicity (though that appeared to be the start of things in the '90s, it was really about power and basic rights.) Perceived as the biggest point of contention by far was that of land boundaries and the lack of available land.

Land, however, is not the only issue at hand when considering the necessity (or not) for family planning.

[Continued…]