The demons are out again – literally and figuratively. It is that time of year in Rwanda when they are restless and refuse to be kept quiet or still. It seems the period of commemoration of the genocide against the Tutsi in Rwanda annoys them and they come out to assault the very idea and purpose of remembering.

We notice increased criminal violence, particularly against survivors of the genocide. Such violence and the amount of rage and destructive intent appears to be random and even inexplicable, but there is method and reason to it. It is perhaps the result of a moral void or psychological imbalance, or the demons within. But there might be other reasons, too.

Is it because they hate to be reminded of their unspeakable crimes, a sense of guilt but which hatred does not permit to be channelled into remorse and contrition, a twisted way of silencing that guilt, exorcising the demons?

Or is it because of anger, that they did not finish the job and so this periodic violence is at once the expression of the desire to finish it and admission of failure and powerlessness?

For most of us, it is a reminder that there is still a lot of work to do to cure Rwandans of years of teaching hate and division, that genocide ideology is an ever present danger.

Then there have been increased attacks on the government of Rwanda and President Paul Kagame in the foreign media – not the tabloid sort, but the usually respected ones.

A few days ago, The New York Times published an article by Anjan Sundaram supposedly a criticism of Kagame, but in reality a hate and smear job. No surprises about what he wrote and why.

He is one of those obsessed with Rwanda, spending all their time looking, often in vain, for incoherence in Rwanda’s story and flashing it around the world as proof that the country does not work as reported.

Sundaram should actually be grateful to Rwanda. It afforded him the chance to be noticed when he wrote his Bad News: Last Journalists in a Dictatorship, after a short visit to the country. But he is not, and instead seems uncomfortable with the story of his benefactor, and that urges him to distort it and present his own version. Why? Only he knows.

Since he wrote that book, he has largely been forgotten in this part of the world. And so, today, when attention on Rwanda is high, he finds it an opportune moment to tell us he is still around and still rabid.

The only surprise is that The New York Times chose to publish the article, especially when it had nothing new to offer, no fresh insights into Kagame’s leadership and Rwanda’s journey. It was merely a rehash of old, tired, and discounted narratives. But again, that should not really shock anybody. Anything goes in our part of the world regardless of whether it is true or a fabrication. Moreover, The New York Times has, in the past, been a vehicle for these narratives.

Michela Wrong is another writer whose obsession with Rwanda knows no bounds. She does not tire in what appears to be a personal war with the government of Rwanda and President Kagame. This time she took it to the respected and usually thoughtful Foreign Affairs magazine. Which is surprising because Foreign Affairs usually carries sober, analytical articles on world affairs or policy issues.

She comes out as a frustrated woman, perhaps even hurt in some way. You can hear it in her tone. It is perhaps what drives her insistency – the frustration of seeing her attacks deflected harmlessly and Rwanda not punished for its alleged misdeeds, especially in D R Congo.

Like Sandaram, she does not offer anything new or remotely credible, apart from repeating inaccuracies, inventions and outright lies. A case in point is her claim that the FDLR is a spent force and scapegoat for Rwanda’s meddling in DRC.

In the sense that they have nothing new or profound to offer, both are guilty of cheating their readers.

Then there is an old, retired professor with an even greater obsession. A picture of him quickly comes to mind: an old man poring over every piece of news, article or book on Rwanda, looking out or sniffing for a whiff of wrong, misstep or glaring mistake. He is employed in this way for days on end, willing himself to see what does not exist, but only seeing what he does not want to see and getting frustrated. Which frustration feeds his obsession to find fault and so he pores on.

Occasionally, he thinks he sees a crack, or what he thinks is one. His face lights up. He straightens up from his poring and shouts with glee: ‘gotcha’. As he did these last few days when he thought he had found evidence of enduring division among Rwandans. Not on the ground, of course, but out there in Twittersphere and from descendants of those he worked with to entrench division.

Like the other two, Professor Filip Reyntjens lives in the past. It is the only reality they understand. You cannot stop them thinking they can recreate it, or arrest the march of history or that they still matter.

I suppose that comes from long periods of being ignored and the resulting desire to re-establish relevance. In the end, it is also a question of vanity. That, with obsession and hate and other demons is a very unhealthy mix.