Rwandan reflections 3: genocide experiences

When we were in Rwanda the other week, we spent most of our time working at the Catch-Up Centre for children who are, and have been, living on the streets. But on the Saturday the team went to visit a group of genocide ‘orphans’. The genocide was in 1994, so the youngest orphan is at least 19 years of age, and they have all been provided with housing, albeit very basic, by the government in the same community.  

One of the GNPDR programmes provides a counseling service for the orphans, and Pius has spent many hours talking with individuals and helping them work through their experiences. As one who suffered greatly in the genocide himself, and has since gone through the painful process of dealing with the bitterness and anger, and reached the point of forgiveness, Pius understands only too well what the orphans have experienced, and some of the emotional and spiritual turmoil that has to be worked through.

Although the genocide was 19 years ago, and much effort has been made to move the country on in many ways, the effects of that terrible period of Rwanda’s history live on, in the lives of all who were involved in it. Some have managed to make more progress than others in learning how to move on, and put it behind them, as the team found when chatting to the orphans. The following two testimonies depict this very clearly.

The first testimony was given by a 33 yr old lady who was 14 at the time of the genocide. We don’t know her name but will call her Faith. She has been attending the counseling sessions provided by Pius, and as result appeared to find it easier to tell her story compared to some of the others.

Faith grew up in Nyamata, a town approximately 30min drive from Kigali, and when the Interahamwe were known to be approaching the town she, along with her family and several thousand others fled to the local church, to seek the sanctuary that is associated with such buildings.

Tragically the reality was very different, and the Interahamwe viewed the church as a building full of ‘cockroaches’ that needed to be exterminated, and they went about their business with appalling brutality. It was an horrific massacre, and to this day the church is retained as a memorial, with the pews covered in the clothes of the dead, and mass graves outside.

Somehow, Faith managed to escape – she still doesn’t know how it happened amidst the chaos, but it did and she fled for her life. The rest of her family was not so lucky, and she found herself on her own, hiding in the nearby swamps, trying to survive. There were some other children hiding in the swamps, but they all had to keep moving from place to place as it wasn’t safe to stay in the same place for more than 3 days or the enemy might find them.

Faith lived off berries and any other naturally growing food that she could find, and says that because she was in the swampy water so much her skin got really bad, and would just fall off. Eventually the genocide period was over, she was rescued and rehoused, and the recovery started.

She now lives by herself, although she does have a daughter. The father of her child has most access, and pays for the child to attend a boarding school, so at best Faith only sees her daughter when school is out. Faith doesn’t have a permanent job, but does earn money doing temporary work whenever she can.

When asked what her wishes are now, Faith said that she just wants people to be happy again. She says that people haven’t been truly happy since the killings, and although she personally doesn’t feel traumatised by the experience anymore, she still hasn’t found proper happiness.

The second testimony was given by a 25 year old lady, who was 6 at the time of the genocide, and who I will call Mary. Unlike Faith, Mary hasn’t been attending the counseling on offer, as she found that the process of recounting her experiences early on made her sick, and she hasn’t tried to attend again. However, I must point out that it was totally voluntarily  that she shared her story with us, and despite a tearful start, she admitted that she found it helpful to talk with us.

Mary was at home with her family when the Interahamwe came, and whilst she managed to hide from the killers, she watched them kill her parents and her younger brother in cold blood.

Mary remained in the village for a while after this, and was seen by the Hutu several times but because she was so young, and not speaking to anyone, they didn’t kill her in case it turned out she was a Hutu. Before long however, Mary went and hid in the nearby forest, but it was in the rainy season so it rained morning to night every day.

She had nothing to eat and was close to starving when an RPF soldier found her. He took her back to his house and she stayed with him until the end of genocide. Mary was very cryptic when she spoke of this period, and our translator suspects that Mary was actually raped during this time.

Mary is still very traumatised by her experiences, and often wakes in the night with bad dreams. She tried to go to school but found that she couldn’t concentrate, so has no education and as a result is unable to get a job. She lives with her sister and her daughter who is 8yr old, although the child’s father has long since abandoned Mary and his daughter.

When asked about her hopes and prayers for the future, Mary replied that she doesn’t know what to ask for re prayer – there are so many things, she doesn’t have an education, doesn’t know if she can afford to put her daughter through education, and generally feels hopeless. The genocide period is still very much in the forefront of her mind all the time.

One of the things that these two stories show is just how much the genocide still affects people on a day-to-day basis.

But the contrast in the way that Faith and Mary are coping with their experiences reflects the power of the counseling and reconciliation work that Pius and others like him are doing.

I can’t imagine how you ever recover from something like that described by Mary and by Faith, but people do: Faith is evidence of that, as is Pius, and so many others in Rwanda. It would be wonderful to think that the world might learn from the awful experiences of Rwanda, and that genocides might become a thing of the past, but unfortunately human nature is such that this is unlikely, and indeed Syria is scarily close to proving this.

So, I thank God that there are people like Pius, who are able to help peoples and communities and countries recover from the traumas, and move forward in a more positive and hopeful way. May we do all we can to help their work continue.