Final post in the outstanding Bukavu Series of blogs on life for national researchers in the DRC, from Élisée Cirhuza Balolage and Esther Kadetwa Kayanga. Introduction to the Bukavu series here. Search on ‘Bukavu’ for the other posts in the series or see list at end of this piece. Original post here.
We have seen how the presence of a light-skinned researcher from the North can change the way we are welcomed in the field. It can facilitate access to the field, data, and circles of respondents that often remain closed. A white person seems to embody a certain authority or power that can breach certain limits or physical and mental barriers.
For example, during a research project on agricultural production in a village in what was then the DRC’s Orientale Province, we noticed differences between the first phase of research, which was conducted by a team of local research workers, and the second phase, during which a mixed team of local and international researchers was in the field. During the first phase, the authorities to whom we wanted to pay our respects told us, “Those are students. Wait, leave them there. Do you think they have brought us anything?” In the presence of international researchers, the discourse changed immediately, “Let them in quickly. We’ll listen to what they have to say. Don’t you see that they’re with white people?”
In other instances, the presence of white researchers can be an encouraging sign of security. As one of our interviewees in the Walungu region of South Kivu Province told us, “O’murhulaguishe, o’muzungu arhaja aharhali o’murula, ntacily’o ivita l’ya ciba.” (“Peace is coming. Whites don’t come to unsafe areas. Their presence means there won’t be war anymore.”)
In other cases, however, the presence of a white researcher brings numerous additional complications, related mostly to the perceptions attached to their presence by the population. Often, this presence increases the visibility of the research project and its associated stakes and expectations. For local authorities, this presence can offer an opportunity to demonstrate their power and position. For the population, these researchers embody several fears: they might be thought to be intelligence agents for foreign governments or mining companies or simply there to plunder natural resources, either of which risks creating mistrust and insecurity.
White researchers are also very often associated with development workers or believed to have significant financial resources, which can complicate navigating the field. In such contexts, researchers aren’t considered just researchers but also donor representatives, thus raising expectations among respondents. One consequence can be the reticence or refusal to share information without a financial reward in return. We witnessed this during research in Kalehe, where interviewees told us, “Muyishe rhuyunvirize aba bantu bama hik’enomunda na bazungu lero. Nkaba ntacho barhulerhere lero rhurha derha nabo. Rhwana baleka bajire é’byabo bone. Omuzungu arhaka hik’enomunda, banave barhubwira oku ntacho arhulerhere.” (“Come on, we’re going to listen to these people who just arrived with the whites. If they didn’t bring us anything this time, we aren’t going to talk to them. We’re going to let them work alone. A white can’t come here without bringing us anything.”) And when these interviewees sensed that there wouldn’t be a project or any money related to the research, they said, “No one here is interested, we’re leaving. Our brothers here [meaning us, the local researchers] who brought them, have already had their share without thinking about us.”
Sometimes, such disappointment can lead to threats to the local researchers, who are blamed because “the whites didn’t leave us anything.” On other occasions, research participants themselves are threatened during or after the data collection period. As one research assistant reported, “We had come to meet with someone who lived in the village. A few days later, passing through the village, I learned that respondents had been visited by robbers who wanted the money the researchers supposedly had left them.” And finally, the presence of white researchers can also give rise to conflicts with the local elites when the latter are not asked to be involved in the research project. In some cases, they may turn against the local researchers who they blame for their exclusion.
Elisée Cirhuza is a researcher and programme manager at the Groupe d’Etude sur le Conflit et la Sécurité Humaine(GEC-SH). Esther Kadetwa is an assistant at the l‘Institut Supérieur de Développement (ISDR-BUKAVU)
Previous Bukavu Series posts:
Invisible Voices in the Production of Knowledge: Introducing the Bukavu series
When You Become Pombe Yangu (“My Beer”): Dealing with the Financial Expectations of Research Participants
Epistemological Rupture, Detachment, and Decentring: Requirements When Doing Research “At Home”
“Donor-Researchers” and “Recipient-Researchers”: Bridging the Gap between Researchers from the Global North and Global South
When Focus Groups Fail: The Argument in Favour of Involving Local Researchers in Project Design
How Researchers Navigate in Armed Conflict Zones: Some Do’s and Don’ts
Armed Guides and Otherness: Vignettes from the Field
We Barely Know These Researchers from the South! Reflections on Problematic Assumptions about Local Research Collaborators
North-South Power Differentials and Competition in the Research Business
Remunerating Researchers from the Global South: A Source of Academic Prostitution?
When the Room is Laughing: From Female Researcher to Prostitute Researcher