“If you knew me, and you really knew yourself, you wouldn’t have killed me.”

Recently we have been visiting various genocide memorials around Rwanda. Last week we came across one specifically at a church where about 10,000 people were killed. As we walked inside the visibly “grenaded” doorframe, we could see the hundreds of thousands of clothes that were piled around this church – very similar to the previous genocide memorial we visited.  Broken and machete-gashed skulls and bones were placed in a room below the chapel. One casket lay at the bottom of this display to represent the horrible ways that women were killed during the genocide. This particular woman lying in the casket was raped more than 20 times by the men who killed her family. After she had been raped, these men sharpened a stick and pierced it through her body – from the bottom up through her head. I cannot think of a worse way to die. This type of killing however was common during the genocide. 

Walking through the chapel, we couldn’t help but see a woman on her hands and knees washing the floor in the corner. When she saw our pastor she got up and they exchanged a hug. She seemed quiet and sad; however, I didn’t want to stare or make any assumptions, so I moved on. As we were leaving the memorial, our house parents told us that pastor Anastase was going to ask this woman to share her story with us. This was very shocking as very few people here in Rwanda talk about the genocide, much less their personal story.

We all piled back into our tiny bus with Seraphina and drove to a very secluded and remote field. She didn’t want anyone to see that she was telling us her story because if the wrong person heard what she was doing, her life could be damaged in more than one way. We stood in a circle as she told her story – which was translated by our pastor. I cannot accurately portray the power of her testimony as we heard it, but I hope that you can take away from this a bit of what it is like for the people of this country. It is a story of intense pain, grief and forgiveness. Although Seraphina was speaking in Kinyarwanda, as she started to cry and shake, we all started to cry and to shake. There is something about a story like hers that is more powerful than a language barrier. By the end of her story every single person there was crying. Seraphina told us at one point that although we could see her standing there alive, she was dead inside. The trauma of the genocide, her family dying, her country torn; this killed her inside.

These are the words of Seraphina taken from a recording of one of the students:

“On the night of April 6th, our president was killed. Suddenly our neighbors who had been our friends turned. The young men gathered together and began to kill our (Tutsi’s) cows and eat them. We knew that people had been coming from Kigali and telling the people that something was coming and that the Tutsis would be killed. But according to how we had lived together, we did not take this as the truth. We were ignoring it, but then we began to see it happen. When it began, I fled with my husband, children, and other people to a parish.

There were so many of us that fled and the priesthood of the parish protected us for some days. When we were hiding in the church, people from the Interahamwe [interjection: the bands of killers that formed from the general population] and militia came with lists of educated people, and they were finding them and taking them. They were saying they wanted to take strong people who could fight against us, but the women and children were saved to die last. The priest became afraid as he saw that situation had become very critical, and he knew he no longer could help us. He decided to take us to the district office to hand us over to the leaders, because he felt he couldn’t continue to protect us.

At the district office there were so many that they said that there was not enough room to shelter us. They took us to another place and people gathered from all over so there were hundreds of us out in the open air. As we were in the open air, people did not feel comfortable so they began to fend for themselves. They began to run to churches in the surrounding area. Some went to the Roman Catholic Church and others to the Pentecostal Church. Those who stayed behind in the open air were killed.

As we who went to the Roman Catholic Church reached it, there was no room. It was too packed, so they pushed us back. So my husband, my children, and I left and fled to the stadium. There were so many of us in the stadium. The killers came during the night and killed many people. A lady who I didn’t know but who knew me, surrounded my family and then hid us in the stadium somewhere. In the morning, we couldn’t stay at the stadium, so my family and I left and we headed to another Roman Catholic Church.

When we reached there, it was packed and it was hard to find any place to hide. In the church, the Interahamwe would come and take people and kill them. We decided that this place was not safe and we decided to flee again. As we were trying to leave to find another place, my husband was taken and he was killed there. When they killed my husband and the people together with him, I could not move but they did not kill me and my children. So we said we can’t move from this place, and we went into the basement of the church which was packed with women and children.

The husbands and the young people were just killed. We stood there waiting to die, because they knew where we were and they had killed all the husbands and young people. We waited days and days, but they did not come. There was no food and no water. We were not being killed but we were dying because we were starving. Overtime the children cried, we cried, and the children shrunk from hunger.

As we waited and waited, we heard that the soldiers of the RPF (Rebel Patriotic Front) were around. We heard them saying that you are not dying, we are here, and we are saving you, but we could not believe it. They came, pulled us out, packed us into vehicles, and took us away from the fighting. But they said that this place wasn’t safe because the killers were coming again, so they took us to another place. From there they took us to military base that had already been secured by the RPF.

As we were going I was separated from my children, because we were put into separate cars. For two months I didn’t find my children, and I was dying again. After two months, by the miracle of God, I saw somebody with my children. They were just skin and bones, and it was hard to recognize them as my children. The RPF, doctors, and nurses helped us by giving us food, water, and medication. We stayed there for some months, and life came back little by little. This is how we survived. I thank God because my children who almost died from hunger, became healthy again and they are alive. But my husband was killed, all my relatives were killed. I don’t have a sister or brother because they were killed. I survived with my children. This is my life.

What I want to tell you because you are still young, still learning, and will tell people what you have heard and seen, is that the death of the Tutsis was very,very bad. Of those who were killed with bullets, I would say they died a good death. But many were killed very badly, with machetes and knives. And few women died without being raped. This is what is hurting the survivors. There are many survivors who have not been able to open themselves up, but they themselves have been raped. Many dead bodies were thrown into the river, because the Hutus said they needed to go back to Ethiopia where they came from. Many of these bodies have not been retrieved.

This story is hard and it is long, but I have not been able to tell it all. I am telling you that we suffered, but we pray that it won’t happen again. Yes, we pray it won’t happen again because it was sad. You see me and you say that I am alive, but I am dead while standing. What you see is the physical, but the inside is gone. I am a Christian and I pray, and that is why I can smile through suffering. I have offered forgiveness and I have forgiven even the killers. We pray in church together and meet in groups that work together, because we forgive. I love God. That is how I can cope with the situation, smile, and talk to people. Thank you. God bless you.”