No place to hide

Second in a three-part series

For one memorial, bloodstained clothes are draped over a rope in rough piles.

As students in International Development at Dalhousie, my classmates and I on the East Africa Field Studies Program had studied the Rwandan genocide and in some ways knew what to expect. When we arrived in Kigali, we understood the history and knew the statistics, but we were still not prepared for what we would see, hear and feel during our stay in Rwanda. 

SEE PHOTOS: Out of Africa

Over the course of three days, we visited memorial sites, observed development projects, enjoyed a drink at Les Mille Des Collines (the hotel featured in the film Hotel Rwanda) and met with both perpetrators of the genocide and victims who had survived. In Rwanda, we were presented with a tough emotional and intellectual challenge: to bridge the gap between what we had learned about genocide in the classroom and the physical evidence we could see for ourselves.

There are certain things I will never forget about these three days. I will never forget hearing the testimony of a man who had murdered 20 Tutsis and then listening to the woman who sat beside him recount how her family members had been among his victims. Nor will I forget the story of a second woman, who had hoped that her Hutu husband could protect her, but was ultimately forced to hide in another man’s house who, in return for concealing her, demanded sexual favours.

The 1994 Rwandan genocide lasted around 100 days during which conflict between the Hutus and the Tutsis claimed approximately 800,000 lives, the majority being Tutsi. As we travelled in Kigali and to some of its surrounding areas, I found myself repeatedly thinking, if I had been here, where would I have hidden? I subconsciously began picking out hiding spots, but each hiding spot was never quite good enough and by the end of the second day I was struggling to find new ones. It was not until our final visit to two churches that I realized the futility of this. 

At the first church, 10,000 Tutsis had died when soldiers threw grenades into the building and then forced an entry through barred doors. In the second church, 5,000 Tutsis had sought refuge but, in a place where sanctuary might have been expected, only 10 survived. One of these survivors was our guide who later drew me aside and showed me a small school behind the church where he had been during the attack. Dried blood still splattered the inner walls of the school but was darkest in one corner where several people had presumably huddled. Standing inside this second church, amidst human bones and blood-stained clothes, I finally understood that in 1994 there was simply no place to hide. This was a powerful and disturbing thought but what was even more frightening was the realization that it had been undoubtedly shared by the Tutsis who were present at that time. 

Our time in Rwanda was short and quickly drew to a close. Yet, it was obvious that the legacy of a genocide that had ended 14 years earlier would not be so easily left behind.  Problems such as HIV/AIDS were greatly exacerbated by the genocide and the number of orphans dramatically increased. The people of Rwanda not only had to rebuild a country but also had to create a new identity that melded both the Hutu and Tutsi peoples. Despite such difficult challenges, the country has sought reconciliation and, in an astonishing display of forgiveness, perpetrators and victims have embraced this idea and moved forward together. Unfortunately, Rwanda may always be remembered for its genocide but the small country should also be recognized for the brave new nation that has been forged in the years that have followed.

From London, Ont., Dalhousie student Joanna Heathcote is an Academic All-Canadian and a member of the varsity track-and-field team.