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July 26, 2025politics#update
The presence of the Barundi people in the Ruzizi Plain, a fertile stretch in what is now South Kivu in the eastern Democratic Republic of the Congo, did not happen all at once. It unfolded over generations, shaped by migration, local alliances, colonial interventions, and eventually rising tensions. To understand the conflicts that have occasionally gripped this region, it is important to first understand how the Barundi arrived, how they settled, and what happened afterward.
Long before colonial borders and maps redefined Central Africa, people were already moving across this region. In the late 18th century, groups of Barundi began leaving their homeland in search of better pastures. Their movements were not part of a military conquest or a sudden exodus. They were part of a slow and purposeful search for land to graze their cattle and sustain their families.
One of the earliest known leaders, a man named Ndorogwe, was said to have led some of these settlers from the Burundian kingdom into what would become the Ruzizi Plain. These first communities were small and scattered, established in areas that were largely uninhabited at the time. They planted roots near Kiliba and later expanded to Luvungi and beyond.
Later, in the mid 1800s, a more organized wave of migration came under Rugendeza, a member of the Banyakarama clan. According to historical accounts, he was a subordinate of King Ntare of Burundi but broke away after a dispute over land rich in salt. Rugendeza’s death, believed to have been the result of poisoning, paved the way for his son Kinyoni to take over leadership.
Kinyoni’s leadership marked a turning point. Around 1852, he and his group crossed the Ruzizi River, leaving behind royal taxes and court politics in Burundi. What makes his journey particularly notable is not just the move itself, but how he approached it. Instead of seizing land by force, Kinyoni reached out to local Fuliru chiefs and asked for permission to settle. He was granted this request and, in return, offered a cow to the local ruler. This was a gesture of respect and peace.
Kinyoni’s group started off near Kahanda, then gradually expanded to Karambo, Luberizi, and eventually Kabwika and Luvungi. This expansion was not a military campaign. It was a gradual extension of Barundi settlement made possible through diplomacy and careful negotiation.
As more families followed Kinyoni, small Barundi villages began to take shape. These communities typically consisted of just a few houses, often no more than four to six, modest in scale compared to the larger, more established Bafuliru settlements. The Barundi lived alongside their neighbors and began to weave themselves into the fabric of the plain.
By the early 20th century, the situation had begun to change. Belgian colonial authorities, seeking to better control the region, formalized ethnic divisions and administrative structures. In 1928, they created official chiefdoms for the Bafuliru, Bavira, and Barundi. On paper, this seemed like an orderly system. In reality, it stirred resentment, especially from the Bafuliru, who believed the Barundi had been granted political power over land they did not originally own.
Tensions flared in 1929 when the Bafuliru openly protested the recognition of the Barundi chiefdom. From this point onward, land and leadership became tightly bound to identity. The seeds of later conflict had been planted.
Meanwhile, Barundi migration continued. In 1910, Kinyoni’s elder brother Mogabo returned from Burundi with several hundred people and livestock, reinforcing the Barundi population. Another Barundi noble, Kirima, fled to the Congo in 1919 after losing a struggle back home in Burundi, adding yet another layer to the growing Barundi community in the plain.
As Congo approached independence and moved through a turbulent post colonial period, tensions between communities sharpened. During the political reforms of the 1980s and 1990s, identity politics began to dominate local leadership. The democratization process allowed ethnic groups to organize and campaign more openly, and competition for land and administrative posts intensified.
The Bafuliru, considering themselves indigenous to the plain, pushed back against the Barundi, whom they saw as outsiders with undue influence. Barundi communities, in turn, felt increasingly marginalized. The lines hardened even further during the Congo Wars. Some Barundi leaders aligned with Rwandan backed rebel groups, while Bafuliru youth joined militias that saw themselves as defending native land.
This militarization transformed local tensions into open conflict. No longer just a matter of politics or territory, the dispute had become personal, tribal, and at times, deadly.
In 2012, a series of violent events brought the conflict back into the spotlight. After the assassination of Chief Floribert Nsabimana, a Barundi leader, the region descended into fear and uncertainty. Later that year, violence erupted again in Mutarule, a small village where over 30 Bafuliru civilians were killed. The attack, reportedly linked to cattle theft and retaliation, underscored how deeply the relationship between these communities had fractured.
In response, national authorities and international peacekeepers supported mediation efforts. In September of the same year, leaders from all three major communities, Barundi, Bafuliru, and Bavira, met to negotiate peace. They agreed to respect each group’s right to traditional leadership, condemned incitement to violence, and created committees to monitor local tensions. Though fragile, this agreement helped calm the situation.
While much has been written about the Barundi Bafuliru divide, the everyday reality is far more complex. Many Barundi and Bafuliru people live side by side, work together, marry across communities, and share local markets. They raise families, cultivate fields, and trade goods without incident. Most want peace.
The problem is not simply about ethnicity. More often, it is about leadership and power, about who controls the land, who collects the taxes, and who speaks for the community. It is political competition dressed in ethnic language, sometimes exploited by elites and armed groups for personal gain.
The history of the Barundi in the Ruzizi Plain is not one of conquest or dominance, but one of movement, negotiation, and adaptation. Their arrival in the region began peacefully, through respect for local authority and a desire to live in harmony. Over time, as populations grew and politics changed, relationships with other communities became more strained. And when these tensions were left unresolved or were manipulated by outside forces, conflict followed.
Even today, the legacy of those migrations continues to shape life in the Ruzizi Plain. Understanding this history, not just in headlines or policy reports but in its full human depth, is essential for building a future where people can once again live not as rivals but as neighbors.
King Richard Nijimbere Ndabagoye III