It is the afternoon of the 7th April 2024. I aim seating in our living room, on sofa typing. The sun is out, surprisingly as this past week the weather was a bit grimy with occasional sunshines like this. It is windy outside and I have been out on a walk with my daughter an hour ago.
Today is not a day like others as it marks 30 years since the genocide started. To some this is just something they heard on Radio, see on TV, on news, an odd article here and there.
For me it is different, it is and will stay a day not like others. 30 Years ago today was a start of a nightmare that will be felt across generations and generations of Rwandan and particularly survivors.
For the past few weeks I have been dreading this day. Though I was very busy both at home and work, in my free time & alone with my thoughts, I consciously avoided to go back in memories especially around Easter time.
Easter time always brings back painful memories of the “last days” of seeing many members of my family and change of my life as I knew it.
Sunday 3rd April 1994 was our last Sunday spent together as a family at our family friend’s house. Monday was a public Holiday and this was the last day I saw my Dad!
I was with my Mum with two brothers Fidele and Emile-Eric and my sister Jeannette. Wednesday the 6th April was the last time we saw Jeannette. She left to prepare for the exam that was due the following week.
7th April is an International Day of Reflection on the 1994 Genocide against the Tutsi in Rwanda # Kwibuka30.
When I woke up this morning I felt lots of complex emotions and few minutes later I was in tears and I couldn’t particularly tell what exactly I was feeling. Just a flood of tears, like a little child and after that I went on with my day. I spoke to a few members of my family as it always the case on this day. I then had lunch with my family and then went for a walk with my daughters, spent a few minutes at the park and then felt ready to write and share something with the world.
Thursday the 7th April 1994, earlier in the morning we were woken by my Mum speaking to Gabriella (A friend who’s house we were staying at) and I knew something was wrong when we heard classic music on Radio Rwanda and they made announcement that the President then was killed in plane crash and argued everyone to stay at home. From then, our worst nightmares became a reality.
I and my family were in hiding being hunted by the killers constantly like the rest of the Genocide against Tutsi across the country. We survived the first big attack in our first hiding place on 22nd April and then moved in Sainte Famille church a few yards to our second hiding place we were hiding in the church however there were constant attacks by the militia. We lived in constant fear and on the 13th June we finally were rescued by United Nations Army, few Blue Beret Ghanains Soldiers Led by General Romea Dallaire (Author of Shaking hands with the Devil where he speaks about his experience at the time). As a result of ongoing negotiations at the time, we were fortunate to be taken to safety in a part of the Country that was controlled by Rwanda Patriotic Front (RPF) at the time and two weeks later RPA (Rwanda Patriotic Army) did put a stop to the genocide and we moved back to Kigali. A new government was formed on 19th July 1994 that marked the start of a new era for our country.
I am a Survivor of Genocide against the Tutsi in Rwanda and as result this painful experience has shaped my life in so many ways.
I am 45 years and looking back at myself, a 15 years old, I feel sad and proud simultaneously.
My oldest is now 15 years old, she is preparing for her National exams and I see part of me in her and recently I can’t help but realising how young I was.
Today as an adult, a parent I am beginning to feel, understanding deeply the magnitude of what happened to me, my family and other survivors across the world!
I feel the absence of my Father and my sister much more, the sadness and longing even more profound.
I go on with my life as any other human being but there is always the before and the after and today is the beginning of that split!
At the end of the genocide, nearly a million people were killed, including close and extended members of my family.
I was one of the lucky few who survived, along with my mum, my two brothers Fidele &Emile & my sister Jacqueline who was outside Rwanda at the time.
My Dad Sebahungu Anselme who was 51 and my sister Jeannette Dusenge 20 who was at the University both were killed during the genocide along with other members of close and extended family including my two Grandparents/fathers, my Aunties, Uncles, Cousins, the whole family of my God parents, my childhood friends, family friends and many more. They were killed, our homes were destroyed and everything in it and life as we knew it disappeared.
The aftermath of the genocide was a nightmare, a dark time through which I lost confidence and felt unsafe & lost for a very long time. Our family unity was destroyed and so was our extended families. The life as we knew it had changed forever. It is during this time I discovered Poetry and it saved me. That and friendships, communities across my neighbourhood. I didn’t know it then but I do know now.
Poetry is a tool I have been using since then to deal with difficult emotions for myself or support family, friends, colleagues going through difficult times. I use it mostly and often with my children who now are able to use it themselves. In 2019 they did take part in HMD 2019 in Glasgow where they recited my poem “Children of Survivors”.
As a way of paying tribute to whose who perished and as a result of this painful experience, I have been working on raising awareness against discrimination and challenging prejudice. As part of Rwanda Community in Scotland I have been organising Commemoration events & sharing my personal story in various places and events including Holocaust Memorial Day, High Schools across Edinburgh & University of St Andrew in Stories to Remember at Byre World and in 2019 I took part in Living Library as part of the Scottish Storytelling Festival.
However recently and this time around, my focus is taking time to heal in my own space, supporting my family especially raising my daughters currently supporting my oldest who is preparing for her National exams and holding space for my young one finishing her primary this year. That and getting on with my work, supporting my team and the organisation I work for and doing other things that brings me peace and joy.
With this post, I am sharing a few photos that reflect my journey of before and after, in between and the now.
A photo of my family unit when I was 4 years old, a photo of my wedding nearly 13 years after the genocide with remaining members of my family on my wedding day.
A photo of my late Dad and my late sister and a group photo of my God Mother Monique with her children Arnaud, Cédric & Amélie who was my best friend.
A photo our family and a selfie with my daughters on our walk today. A photo of my daughters when they were 10 and 6 respectively during the Holocaust Memorial in Renefrewshire when they were sharing with the audience a poem I composed “ Children of survivors” and in the photo they are posing with Martin Stern a Survivor of Holocaust himself.
When you match those photos and my writing today, remember that 30 years ago I didnt know I will be here today therefore it is my responsibility, it is my legacy in paying tribute to my loved ones, to share a glimpse of who they were.
Today, there are many other ongoing tragedies around the world, When we heard those we might be indifferent when we just think of people as numbers or living far away however we forget that they are people like me and you and once upon time I was then. But we live in connected world and I am here today due to the kindness of a few brave ones.
Despite the sad memories of today, the feeling of being grateful for life never goes away, because I am thankful to be alive and well.
Thank you
Marie-Claire
