*Disclaimer: I’ve never studied Rwandan history in depth and
all my facts come from museum visits and the Internet.*
When I first told family and friends that I would be
traveling to Rwanda, their first reaction was that of surprise, which quickly
turned to worry. Whenever the word “Rwanda” is mentioned, most people think of
the word “genocide” next.
Before the 1950s, citizens of Rwanda lived under Belgium
rule. They were divided into three different tribes: Hutu, Tutsi, and Twa. The
Twa tribe made up a small population of Rwandans and, according to my
Kinyarwanda professor, they are comparable to our Native Americans. They keep
to themselves in the less populated areas of Rwanda. The difference between the
Hutus and the Tutsis was the number of cattle they owned. The Tutsis owned at
least 10 cows and the Hutus, who made up the majority of the population, owned
less than 10 cows. It wasn’t until the European colonization that the
difference between Hutu and Tutsi became racial. The Belgians mandated that
Hutus and Tutsis carry identification cards, which deepened this divide.
Furthermore, even though the Tutsis were not the majority of the population,
most of the Rwandan leadership positions were given to them. However, once the
Rwandans tried gaining their independence from Belgium, Belgium leaders
switched power to the Hutus in an act of defiance. The hostility between the
two tribes kept growing until it culminated in April 1994 when the President of
Rwanda was killed when his plane was shot down. This was the spark that ignited
the genocide. Hutu extremists took over the government, blamed the Tutsis for
the assassination, and began the mass slaughtering of the Tutsis [1].
The genocide lasted approximately 100 days and death toll
estimates range from 500,000 to 1,000,000. It’s hard to imagine barbarism of
this magnitude and it’s something that one cannot understand until it is right
in front of him/her…
Our first weekend activity here was a Millennium Village
Tour. The mission of the Millennium Villages Projects is to address “the root
causes of extreme poverty, taking a holistic, community-led approach to
sustainable development [2].” During the tour, we stopped at various locations that
have benefited from this outside involvement. We visited a primary school, a
small clinic, a farm, and a women’s basket-weaving cooperative (yay
souvenirs!).
Baskets... In Africa.
A classroom... In Africa.
A hungry cow... in Africa.
The first stop on the tour was the most memorable, though.
We stopped at a church. Back in 1994, hundreds of Tutsis came to the church to
seek refuge. Today it serves as a memorial.
Outside, there is a large cavity in the cement at the
entrance of the church, a remembrance of the slaughtering. Inside, rows and
rows of clothing filled the church. The hundreds of people who died in the
church are gone, but their clothes remain silent and still 19 years later,
haunting the church like ghosts. The tour guide pointed out a once white alter
cloth which was now stained red with blood. Sunlight peeked out through the
bullet holes that pierced the metal roof. The clothes were dirty and also
stained with blood. Our tour guide then took us to the lower level where a
coffin stood in the middle of a white-tiled room. Inside the coffin was the
remains of a woman who was raped multiple times before she died. I’ll spare you
the gruesome details of her death, but to give you an idea, this is when I
started crying my eyes out. I just couldn’t believe the brutality that was used
to kill these people. It’s hard to think that human beings could be capable of
such apathetic cruelty. There were three skulls on display on top of the
coffin. One was from a man who was killed by a machete, the other was from a
man who was killed with a spiked club, and the last died from a bullet to the
head. On a separate visit to the Kigali Genocide Memorial, there is an area
that is dedicated to the child victims of the genocide. The room is filled with
large pictures of children, ranging from 2 months old to 10 years old. Under
each picture is a plaque that gives some more information about each child.
Facts such as name, age, favorite food, favorite toy, are included. The last
fact on each plaque is how the child died. It was astonishing to see in such
blatant terminology, “Cause of death: Machete,” or “Cause of death: Thrown against
a wall.”
The tour guide then led us outside again, this time to the
tombs behind the church. He opened the door to a staircase leading six feet
underground. I knew what was at the bottom of those steps, yet a disturbing
curiosity pulled me in. Shelves of human skulls and bones enclosed a body-width
wide aisle, making you feel like you were being buried in the tomb itself. You
couldn’t escape it. To your left and to your right, about a foot away from your
face, was a dead person’s skull. Your only hope was to close your eyes and
pretend you weren’t breathing in the deceased remains. No museum or memorial in
the U.S. would ever allow its tourists to do something like that. It was an
overwhelming experience that just added to the reality of the unbelievable massacre.
Before we left, two people were allowed to sign the
guestbook. I was one of them and wrote the following:
Name: Krysten M.
Location: Arizona, USA
Comments: May the innocent who died here rest in peace and
know of a place far greater than heaven itself.
Our last stop on the tour was to a small village, where
genocide perpetrators and victims live together peacefully. We heard first-hand
accounts of the genocide from two different men. The first speaker was an
elderly man who was in jail for nine years. He was released and returned to his
home only to find all his family and friends gone. The other speaker was a man
who was only 11 when the genocide occurred. Both his parents were killed by
Hutus and so he and his siblings fled to Burundi, which is just south of
Rwanda. He also came back to Rwanda after the genocide but once again found it
an unfamiliar place. Once the genocide ended, perpetrators asked for
forgiveness by apologizing to the family and friends of their victims and
divulged information about where their remains lay so that family members could
give the dead a proper burial. Both these men were able to forgive their
perpetrators and even live next door to them now.
I have so much respect for these people. It must take an
insane amount of empathy for someone to forgive another for killing his/her
family and friends. It was hard for me to believe that they could live together
so peacefully, but I had just heard two first-hand accounts and I was also
surrounded by the living proof in this small village. I guess time does heal
all wounds.
Dancing... In Africa.
Rwanda has made significant strides since the genocide, but
they never forget the past. Every year one week in April is devoted to
remembering the genocide. Rwandans visit their nearest memorial and television
channels constantly play documentaries of the genocide. Since so many people
were killed, it was difficult to dispose of the bodies at the end of the
genocide. Because of this, another task during this week is to search for human
remains so that the victim may still receive a proper burial.
Sometimes is hard to believe that the genocide even
happened. Once weekend we went to the Milles Collines, which is the real Hotel
Rwanda and aside from a plaque outside the hotel, all other remnants of the
past are gone. It’s not until I see random bullet holes in buildings or
“remember the genocide” banners on buildings that I remember that hundreds of
thousands of people died in this exact spot less than 20 years ago.
Hotel Rwanda... In Africa.
[1] J. Rosenberg. “Rwanda Genocide – A Short History of the
Rwandan Genocide.” [Online]. Available: http://history1900s.about.com/od/rwandangenocide/a/Rwanda-Genocide.htm
[2] Millennium Villages. [Online]. Available: http://www.millenniumvillages.org/
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