Chapter 10 – Let There Be Light

Every story has an end, and this one ended for us on July 5, 1994. Vincent, who had hidden us in his goat shack, came to tell Jean de Dieu that the RPF (Rwandan Patriotic Front, the Tutsi rebel army) had taken Butare. They could liberate us from the pit of fleas and darkness. Then the military dispatched a detachment of about 20 soldiers to Jean de Dieu’s house to take us from the hole and escort us to a camp for survivors at Shyanda. At 3 p.m., the soldiers came to Jean de Dieu’s door. Our relief was indescribable (125)!

The soldiers stood by the door and told Jean de Dieu to bring us out to them from the cellar. They watched in disbelief as our five children emerged, one after another. We emerged from our hideout into the blinding sunlight. We had been living in the dark for more than two months. Our skin had grown pale. We had actually lost the ability to speak aloud and could only talk in whispers (126).

As we walked to the survivor’s camp, I could see the bloody and confused landscape of Rwanda in 1994. The military faced a real problem. Tutsi survivors came to the camp with their Hutu rescuers and their relatives. The soldiers brought in these groups, not knowing if any among them had been génocidaires. How could they tell the difference between Hutu who had participated into the genocide and those who had not? The mixed Hutu population in their midst meant that nobody could tell whose hands were bloody and whose were clean (126-127).

How could justice be rendered in the aftermath of genocide (127)?

We marched to the commune of Shyanda. They looked at us like we were animals in a zoo. Our skin had changed color. Once I got out of the grave, I would face all the Hutu guys again. That was beyond my thinking ability. I felt bleak, skinny, humiliated, wounded, and afraid of foes that still roved about—remorseless and willing to resume their killing work should an opportunity occur (181). Our life at the camp was a complete nightmare. I had never seen a dead body. On my way to the woods to pick up firewood, I saw enough for the rest of my life (182).—Marie age 14

When you are a survivor, you nurture the hope that others might have survived too, even if it seems totally impossible. As word gradually reached us in Shyanda about the fate of our relatives and friends, our joy at having survived mingled with the oppressive darkness of tragedy (127).

Back at our home, all our possessions were looted or burned. We had to start all over again. There was nothing besides bad memories … . All of our Tutsi neighbors and friends were gone. Our aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, and in-laws had disappeared in the blink of an eye (182).—Marie age 14

With our children we grieved on hearing that we had lost people so dear and so close to us. Why did we live when so many of our loved ones were among the 800,000 others who did not? More than a hundred people in our extended families had been slaughtered (128).

From a human viewpoint, the genocide showed me that humans could readily behave as animals. The scope of the atrocities the killers performed is beyond human understanding (168). I think humans can be influenced in a right or wrong direction. They can be inclined to do what is good. They can be generous, kind, loving, and caring. They can also be cruel, treacherous, and murderous. I hardly understand how a population got involved in killing innocent people on a whim or because they were told to do so. That is how most killers justify their crimes. They reject any responsibility, claiming that all they did was an act of obedience to the supreme authority of the military, the burgomasters, or other local authorities. One can wonder if the killers had a conscience or if their conscience agreed with the order they received from authorities (169).—Chantal

Our hearts were torn: We felt devastated by our losses—but happy and blessed to be alive. As we work to rebuild our lives, we find great solace in knowing that Almighty God holds in his loving hands the future life of those who died so tragically. It is this hope that helps us escape the vortex of revenge that often consumes the surviving victims of mass violence (128).

Stories of the genocide of the Tutsi pose a question to mankind as a whole. What can we do to prevent it from happening again? What can be done to help survivors and their offspring gain hope in the future? What can be done to help the generation of killers and their offspring gain a sense of humanity? In my opinion, there is a double obligation to render justice and educate people in moral standards and human rights (169).—Chantal.

We can personally testify to the benefits of resisting bitterness and moving on with our lives. Striving to imitate the God of mercy and forgiveness has done much to heal our aching hearts (128).

The purpose of writing this account is not to call the past to memory, which is sometimes a heartbreaking exercise. It is not to harbor grudges and resentment or promote hatred and revenge. It is simply in order not to forget. I would feel guilty if I forgot such an atrocity, which could easily be repeated. I will never forget, but I will make it a lifetime commitment to never allow such a thing to happen again in my life (183).—Marie age 14

So many extraordinary acts came together to save our family, and we are deeply grateful for each and every one (128).

As determined killers raised their hand against their neighbors, a precious few would not allow the flood of ethnic hatred to drive the love of neighbor from their hearts. Confronted with our desperate need, their compassion conquered their fear. We are deeply grateful to them for their courageous acts, whether spontaneous or planned, momentary or sustained, that helped to bring my family to safety (128-129)!

[Unselfish] love intertwined with respect and empathy, compassion and tenderness … . Who could ask for or expect to receive that kind of love? And yet it was shown to us over and over in deliberate and repeated saving acts … . In our view, it is only this kind of love that has the power to immunize the heart and mind against the toxin of hatred, thus preventing genocide and other crimes against humanity. This kind of love could lead to a world of peace (129).

Chapter 9 – Alive in the Grave