SURVIVALAGAINST THE ODDS

a book of

testimoniesfrom survivorsof the Rwandan genocide

" The genocide in Rwanda is being

fictionalised in films and novels

now, but nothing conveys the

terrible suffering of the victims as

powerfully as their own words.

I feel that one of the most

important things we can do is

keep on telling the stories, so

survivors know that their words

have value and meaning, and that

we will never stop caring about

them."Lindsey Hilsum

International Editor, Channel 4 NewsPatron of SURF

Often called 'the land of a thousand

hills' or 'the Switzerland of Africa',

Rwanda erupted in unspeakable

violence for 100 days in 1994 as the

interahamwe, or ‘those who kill

together’, inflicted torture, slaughter

and rape across the country.

This book documents the lives of

those who survived the genocide.

This book is their story – bravely told

so that the world would know with no

uncertainty what had happened in

Rwanda.

Survivors Fund (SURF)www.survivors-fund.org.uk

SUR VIV ALAGAINSTTHEODDS

a book of testimonies from

survivors the Rw

andan genocide

SURVIVAL

A Book of Testimonies from Survivorsof the Rwandan Genocide

Produced by Survivors Fund (SURF) with generousassistance from The Funding Network.

AGAINST THE ODDS

CONTENTS

FOREWORD 1by Mary Kayitesi Blewitt

INTRODUCTION 4by Lindsey Hilsum

BACKGROUND 6by Mary Kayitesi Blewitt and David Russell

ABANDONED BY THE WORLD 8by Katharine Quarmby and Mary Kayitesi Blewitt

REMEMBERING THE SURVIVORS 16messages edited by David Russelland Anne McFerran

PERSONAL STORIES:SURVIVAL AGAINST THE ODDS 19

THE TESTIMONY OF VALENTINA 20

THE TESTIMONY OF DAPHROSA 24

THE TESTIMONY OF ALINE 30

THE TESTIMONY OF FERIDINA 34

THE TESTIMONY OF GAUDENCE 38

THE TESTIMONY OF CLARE 44

MARY’S STORY 48

AFTERWORD: LETTERS OF THANKSFROM SURVIVORS 52

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS 58

CHRONOLOGY OF THE GENOCIDE 64

ABOUT SURVIVORS FUND 68

A SPECIAL NOTE ABOUT THIS BOOK

This book is dedicated to Clare Alphonsinaand to all ‘Clares’ who survived the horrificexperiences of the Rwandan genocide, butwho subsequently died from its legacy. Manywomen like her are racing against time to telltheir stories as a historical record. They hopeto educate the world about the dangers ofcrimes against humanity in the belief that theworld will not be indifferent to the suffering ofhumankind.

This book is divided into sections, all of whichshed light on the Rwandan genocide in aslightly different manner, although they oftenoverlap in topic or specific content. Thisintentional cross-over was done in order toensure that readers appreciate the full impactand magnitude of the genocide, thehorrendous effect it had on the lives of thevictims and the survivors, and the immediatecall to aid the remaining survivors.

The general background provides factualinformation about the genocide. The sectionentitled Abandoned by the World is a livinghistory of the genocide, relating the factualoccurrences of 1994 with the actual stories ofthose who survived. Remembering theSurvivors highlights the impact of a SURFevent in Trafalgar Square where women fromthe UK read aloud the testimonies of womensurvivors of the genocide.

The Testimonies of Valentina, Daphrosa,Aline, Feridina, Gaudence and Clare are thestories of the survivors themselves. Thewords are their own, shared with the world tomake sure the truth of the genocide isrecorded in history. Their testimonies are ofgreat importance to the survivors. We hopewe have done them justice in this book.

1

FOREWORD

F or many survivors in Rwanda today,there is no life after genocide. Manyhave lost their extended families, the

backbone to African society’s existence.Many more, especially those women rapedand those children orphaned, continue to leada uniquely troubled existence. Many feeltheir survival is its own form of torture. Theyare desperately impoverished, commonlyinfected with HIV/AIDS and often responsiblefor large families. So the positive impact ofcounselling and medical support, income-generating initiatives, vocational training,education and house-building programmes isbeing offset by the legacy of genocide: inparticular untimely and unnecessary deathsfrom HIV/AIDS.

Poverty is a major constraint upon the abilityof survivors to rebuild their shattered livesafter genocide. They share a collectivepredicament – they feel as if they aredrowning in crisis after crisis, none of whichcan be easily solved. But unless they canestablish some economic security, survivorswill remain utterly dependent upongovernment or charitable aid for every aspectof their lives. Not only does this destroy theirconfidence and self-esteem on a day-to-daylevel, it also creates profound insecurity.

Another common problem faced by thesurvivors is trauma. Thousands oftraumatised people are supported by only ahandful of trained counsellors. Women of allages were vulnerable to rape; the youngestvictim we know of was just six-years old in

1994 and the oldest was 71. Some womenwere pregnant at the time of the rapes andothers became pregnant as a result of them.

There is also a chronic shortage of adequatehousing for survivors. Either they do nothave homes of their own, or their houseswere destroyed during the genocide. Theyneed to know that their children, most ofwhom have no relatives, or a fewimpoverished ones, will not be homeless afterthey are no longer there for them.

The overwhelming preoccupation for bothwidows and orphan-headed households isthe struggle to provide for their children'severyday needs. Some also have to contendwith children who require special care as aresult of the trauma they endured during thegenocide. Not only did these youngsterswitness extreme instances of violence beingcarried out on close relatives and people allaround them, but some had to watch as theirmothers were raped. It would be difficult tooverestimate the importance of socialnetworks in sustaining individuals in countrieslike Rwanda, where state provision for healthand social services is limited and employmentand housing are scarce.

Those who are most isolated are the womenwho have borne children as a result of beingraped: their families reject both them andtheir children. Rejection by their fewsurviving relatives is a source ofunimaginable emotional distress, and theirisolation is increased by the stigma of rape.

BY MARY KAYITESI BLEWITT

32

secure some closure, as they finally bury theirdead with some dignity.

The onus lies on both Rwanda and theinternational community to ensure the will andthe resources are there to support justice forsurvivors. Only when justice has beenserved will there be healing and respect forhuman rights. To seek to short-circuit thisprocess is to risk seeing history repeat itself.

One of the few heartening facts to emergefrom Rwanda today is how survivors drawsupport from each other, through localsurvivors' groups that bring together orphans,widows and the most needy survivors.Through groups like AVEGA (Association desVeuves du Genocide d'Avril 1994), TheSolace Ministries and AOCM (Association des

FOREWORD BY MARY KAYITESI BLEWITTFOREWORD BY MARY KAYITESI BLEWITT

They feel they have lost their dignity, arealone and utterly powerless.

Rape has also increased, as it still does, thespread of HIV/AIDS. Over time, survivorshave gradually been alerted to the risk of thedeadly disease and some have taken a test.Around 70% of the women tested are HIVpositive. Emotional, financial, social andpractical obstacles deter women from wantingto discover their HIV status. Yet the relativelyhigh incidence of HIV infection in Rwanda atthe time of the genocide, coupled with thefact that a substantial number of the victimswere raped more than once, makes itinevitable that many contracted the virus as aresult of rape.

Because the psychological impact of genocideis more easily hidden than its physical effects,many survivors suffer trauma quietly. It iswidely agreed that the numbers of survivorswho have spoken about what happened tothem is small compared to the overall numberof victims. We are fortunate to have been

able to collect a few of their stories here. But whether young or old, infected byHIV/AIDS or not, the outlook they share isbleak. Survivors do not expect to live long.Their greatest fears are for their children.Opportunities for victims to improve their livesare scarce and their troubles are very real.Their ill health prevents them from thinkingabout the future. Instead their minds remainpersistently focused on the genocide and thebitterness and pain associated with it.

The scars of the genocide remain raw, withsurvivors still having to do daily battle withgrief, pain and suffering. Mutual suspicionand tension is ever present amongst thepeople of Rwanda. The situation isexacerbated by the painfully slow justicesystem, which offers little comfort tosurvivors. The International Criminal Tribunalfor Rwanda (ICTR) has only secured theconviction of a handful of the genocidaires.Survivors have no right to pursue civil actionswithin the ICTR, and vulnerable witnessesreceive neither physical nor psychologicalsupport.

Genocide is a crime against humanity, whichmust be recognised through the justicesystem. Perpetrators have to be made totake full responsibility for their actions. Onlywhen this is the case can reconciliation andnational reconstruction in Rwanda truly begin.

In an attempt to speed up trials, the Rwandangovernment has now introduced thetraditional Gaçaca system of justice. Key tothe Gaçaca process is the public confessionin the presence of the wronged. This step isseen as indispensable to speed upreconciliation, but survivors remain scepticalthat it will deliver justice. They do, however,see it as a chance to find out how and wheretheir families died. At least then they can

‘The onus lies on both Rwanda

and the international

community to ensure the will

and the resources are there to

support justice for survivors.

Only when justice has been

served will there be healing

and respect for human rights.

To seek to short-circuit this

process is to risk seeing

history repeat itself.’

Orphelins Chefs de Ménage), Survivors Fundhelps survivors to relay their experiences. Itremains vital that these voices are heard, thatthe memory of genocide does not fade, andthat the victims and survivors of the genocideare never forgotten. We hope that this bookwill help to secure those aims.

WE MUST LEARN LESSONS FROMRWANDA'S EXPERIENCE.

Mary Kayitesi BlewittFounder and DirectorSurvivors Fund (SURF)

5

INTRODUCTION

Back in 1994, the survivors of genocide weredesperate to tell their stories. I travelledRwanda, listening to the unspeakable horrorsthey related. Their pain was fresh, and theyseemed to feel that telling an outsider wouldin some way validate their suffering. Theywanted me - a foreigner, a journalist - to passtheir stories onto the world beyond Rwanda,which had failed to come to their aid whenthey needed it most.

Eleven years on, survivors feel differentlyabout talking. One of the widows who wasraped asked me recently, "What's the point oftelling our stories again? I've told mine overand over to journalists and other people, andit doesn't make any difference. We still havenothing, and we're still suffering."

I found it hard to reply. Telling your story to ajournalist isn't therapy, and it doesn'tautomatically bring succour. After so manyyears, why should the survivors relive thepain because a journalist needs a story?

And yet it is only through hearing the voicesof the victims of genocide that anyone elsecan get an inkling of what they endured. Theworld needs to hear them, because it isimportant that we don't forget. In Rwanda,every survivor's experience is unique, and thecollective story they tell is as important nowas it was in 1994. If they stop telling theirstories, the world will move on, and the painthey can never put behind them will beforgotten by everyone else.

It's not enough, of course, just to listen. Thatis why this book is important. SURF listensto survivors – to their stories, and to theirneeds. Then it acts. SURF is bringing anti-retroviral drugs to women who became HIVpositive after being raped during thegenocide. It is helping widows look after theorphans of genocide. And it is making surethat none of us forget.

So I would say to the survivor who wasreluctant to retell her story, that she has everyright to keep quiet, to nurse her pain, to shareit only with those she trusts. But her story isimportant, and the world still needs to hear it.The onus is now on us. We should read thestories in these pages, however painful it is tolearn of such desperate cruelty and grief,however guilty it makes us feel. Then weshould pledge to support the survivors ofgenocide in any way we can, and never toabandon them again.

Lindsey Hilsum is International Editor ofChannel 4 News and a Patron of SURF.

BY LINDSEY HILSUMThe history of Rwanda, indeed the

history of humanity, lives in these

pages. But these pages are not

enough. More must be done to

document the lives, the deaths, the

survival and all that goes with it for

the survivors of the Rwandan

genocide. Time is running out for

thousands of women who were

viciously raped and raped and raped

again as part of a systematic effort to

infect them with the HIV virus,

allowing the deadly virus to inflict the

final act of execution in the years

following the genocide.

76

Habyarimana's Second Republic, whichclaimed to be sympathetic to Tutsis. In 1973,thousands of Tutsi students were massacred.

Meanwhile, Rwandan refugees forced intoexile in Uganda, Tanzania and abroad wereexperiencing hard lives. They were alsodenied a right to return, despite beingRwandan citizens. The Rwanda PatrioticFront (RPF) emerged and took up armsagainst the Rwandan government, finallyleading the international community torecognise the refugee crisis. A series ofagreements backed by the internationalcommunity was signed between the RPF andthe government of Rwanda to ensure apeaceful settlement of the Rwandan crisis.

But on 6 April 1994, after PresidentHabyarimana signed a peace agreement inDar Es Salaam, his plane was shot down andhe was killed on his way back to Kigali.Following the horrific genocide of 1994 thatensued, and that thrust Rwanda into the eyes

BACKGROUND

R wanda, a small landlocked country incentral Africa, is often called 'theland of a thousand hills' or 'the

Switzerland of Africa'. Situated immediatelysouth of the Equator and bordered by theDemocratic Republic of Congo, Uganda,Tanzania and Burundi, today it is home to apopulation of eight million people.

The population of Rwanda is made up ofthree ethnic groups: Twa, Hutu and Tutsi.Traditionally,Twa were hunters; Hutu werefarmers; and Tutsi were cattle keepers. Theyshared a language and a culture. Theyshared the same king, who was traditionally aTutsi. They intermarried over the years andthey fought together to stop the slave trade.People moved between the groups and therewas social mobility.

The relationship between the Hutu and Tutsiidentities took a new turn when the Europeancolonisers arrived in Rwanda at the end ofthe 19th century. At the 1885 BerlinConference, which carved up Africa betweenthe European empires, Rwanda fell underGerman rule. But after Germany's defeat inthe First World War, Rwanda was transferredto Belgian control in 1919.

For centuries, Rwanda had not experiencedethnic divisions or any other sectariantendencies. It was only with the arrival ofEuropean colonialism that a racial/ethnicideology was introduced and discriminationwas endorsed. The main distinction among

Rwandans was socio-economic until theBelgian rule introduced identity cards and apolicy of divide and rule.

The widespread discontent engendered bythese divisions eventually resulted in a revoltin 1959, which left 20,000 Tutsis dead.Thousands more were forced to flee asrefugees, to Uganda, Tanzania and Burundi.As the inevitability of independence loomed,the Belgian colonisers abandoned their policyof indirect rule and shifted support from theminority Umwami party to the majorityParmehutu party led by Grégoire Kayibanda,who eventually led Rwanda to independencein 1962. Violence continued from 1963 until1967, when 100,000 Tutsis were butcheredwith machetes and dumped in rivers.Violence, arrests, intimidation and abuse allincreased during President Juvenal

‘For centuries, Rwanda had not

experienced ethnic divisions or

any other sectarian tendencies.

It was only with the arrival of

European colonialism that a

racial/ethnic ideology was

introduced and discrimination

was endorsed.’

of the world, the people of Rwanda are onlynow slowly beginning to emerge from themost traumatic period of their history.

Since those dark days, tremendous effortshave been made to tackle the complexproblems facing Rwanda. The legacy ofdeath and destruction, however, is ageneration of survivors who have not onlybeen traumatised by their experiences duringthe genocide, but who have to cope withlasting consequences that are far from over.

This book is dedicated to these survivors.

98

arrows – were depicted, and Hutus wereencouraged to kill children as well. Themessage was that no Tutsi should be spared,neither young nor old; that no Hutu wasexempt from the task of exterminating theTutsi people. Such propaganda inevitablypoisoned the minds of many Hutus.

DAPHROSA:"Even before the war the neighboursbegan to get suspicious of us andbehaved strangely towards us. We werecalled snakes. We became housebound.There were markets and shops we werenot allowed to use."

Even some churches became involved in thegenocidal hatred.

DAPHROSA: "Between 1990 and 1994, politics beganincreasingly to divide people. Segregationbecame common. In our church there wasno animosity in the beginning. But otherchurches were dividing people, evenrefusing to give the Eucharist to Tutsis."

The genocide began on the 6th April 1994when President Habyarimana's plane wasshot down. He was returning to Rwandahaving finally signed a peace agreement withrebel Tutsis in Tanzania. Within hours lists ofnames of opposition party members,moderate Hutus, and prominent Tutsis hadbeen disseminated and the massacresbegan. As a result of the introduction ofidentity cards by Belgian forces during thecolonial era, the ethnicity of people inRwanda could easily be traced. Thegenocide could thus take hold.

VALENTINA:"The killing began on a Friday afternoon.The day after President Habyarimana'sdeath was announced, fires were burning

in the neighbourhood. On the 12th Aprilwe heard that one of my Tutsi neighbourshad been attacked and murdered. Weknew what this meant for us Tutsis."

People were murdered in their homes and inthe street, and buried alive in alreadyprepared mass graves.

DAPHROSA:"We left our house but did not get far. Myhusband was captured and beaten and Iwas forced to return home. He told us toexpect the worst. The interahamwedragged him back to the house,demanding that he give them all heowned, saying he wouldn't need it anymore because he was going to die. Theyhit him and sat him in the chair in thesitting room. They brought us all in thesitting room and started forcing us – myyoung daughters as well – to take ourclothes off."

Tutsis congregated in churches, schools,public buildings, hospitals, stadiums andother places they believed would providesanctuary. But there were no safe places.

VALENTINA: "We fled to the church in Nyarubuye withmy family. This is where, as my parentstold me, Tutsis had found sanctuary inprevious attacks in the 1950's, 60's and70's … We had no food or water but atleast we had shelter and we were safe. Orso we thought. Now we know that around3000 Tutsis sought refuge in the church.There were many refugees arriving withhorrific stories of massacres of Tutsis.Some had been injured. It was afrightening experience."

The killers targeted churches in particular,knowing that many had fled there in the belief

ABANDONED BY THEWORLD

VALENTINA:"Before the genocide I lived with myparents, four brothers and three sisters inKibungo, which is near Nyarubuye parish.We were a happy family and luckychildren who wanted for nothing. We hadmany many friends and neighbours whowere Hutus. We were Tutsi.”

DAPHROSA:"Before the genocide our family lived ahappy life. We had five beautiful children;two boys and three girls. My husbandalways used to make time for us to go outtogether. He would come back from workwith presents for the children. They couldnever wait for him to come home. Weunderstood each other. We had noproblems in our marriage. We alwaysthought that we would grow old and die inold age together."

Prior to the genocide, even though manyTutsis lived what seemed like a peaceful lifewith their Hutu neighbours, there werealready signs of the troubles ahead. Hutuextremists actively promoted ethnic divisionsin schools. Teachers were told to report thetribal grouping of students that they taught,and students were forced to state their tribalaffiliations in class. Parents had to bring toschool their identity cards, which identifiedthem by tribe, while teachers would remindTutsis how dangerous they were.

ALINE: "When the genocide began, I was in the

first year of secondary school. Iremember some people being killed andthe headmaster saying there wereinkotanyi (infiltrators) in the school. I feltfrightened but had no idea what he wastalking about. One of the boys told me tohave courage because we were to beexpelled from school. The intimidationcontinued and then the segregation ofHutu and Tutsis started."

Hutu extremists played on the public's deep-rooted concerns about unemployment andeconomic decline, laying the blame on rebelTutsi forces, the RPF. They fostered fearsthat Tutsi exiles returning from previousgenocides would grab land from Hutus. Justas the Nazis limited the rights of Jews,making them non-citizens in 1935, Hutuextremists published the so-called TenCommandments in 1993, in the government-controlled paper, Kangura, calling for totalrule over the Tutsi minority through Hutupower. This genocidal ideology wasdisseminated to all corners of Rwanda –helped in no small part by Hutu domination ofthe media.

The radio and television station, Mille Collines(RTLM), founded in 1993, played a centralrole in fostering genocide by playing onHutus’ fear of a return of Tutsi dominance. Itfomented tension and persuaded ordinarycitizens to distrust Tutsis, creating the climatefor them to be hunted down and killed later.The best ways of killing – with guns,grenades, machetes, spears, bows and

1110

with whatever they had to hand: machetes,axes, clubs, sticks, swords and spears. Iknew I was going to die and I asked Godto forgive me all my sins. Then I heard avoice saying: "And this baby who isshouting must be silenced." They hit himjust once and he died immediately. Later, Itook the baby from my back, made a smallbed with the clothing I was carrying him inand put him to lie near his dead father. Icovered him and I felt that he was safewith his father. It was then that I realisedthat I was not dead. I was the only personin the compound still moving; everyoneelse was silent because they had died."

The genocide saw a systematic programmeof rape being used as a weapon of war. Itwas part of a deliberate strategy.

DAPHROSA:"Our housekeeper raped me. My husbandwanted to intervene but they hit him with aclub on his neck. They would pour beerfor us, mocking that Tutsi women did notwant them before, but now they weregoing to have us. Each took us in turns,my daughters wanted to scream out inpain but were too scared so they remainedquiet. My husband was forced to watchthe whole ordeal – they wanted him towatch and die slowly – and helplessly hewatched them violate us. Then they hithim with a hammer on his head and back.He died the next day."

Those women who escaped murder weresubjected to genital mutilation, rape, gangrape, and rape with objects such assharpened sticks or gun barrels. Many diedas a result of their abuse.

DAPHROSA:"The raping continued into the secondday. They continued to rape my

daughters, saying they wanted to testTutsi women. They slashed me across thebreast. The housekeeper boasted aboutraping me, his employer, to the others. Heknifed my genitals after raping me."

Many women were deliberately infected withHIV by their attackers. The effect isincreasingly visible today. Among the womenwho were tested for HIV/AIDS in the fiveyears following the genocide, 70 per centwere found to be HIV positive. Many aredying because of lack of medication. Thereis hardly a woman who was infected in 1994who is not dead or dying today.

ALINE: "My father had to watch us being raped.When he died, we were taken away by awoman councillor. We had to do domesticwork for her. She gave me to her brotheras a wife. He took me to the interahamwe.There were four of them. While I was athome I was raped by four men. Here I wasto be raped by another four men. Ibegged them to stop, but they refused.They said that we used to refuse Hutumen, and that now they had the right to doas they wished with us. Then they tookme to their command post and kept methere for a month, raping me wheneverthey wished. I was fourteen years old."

First they killed the men and the boys, thenthey killed the women. Educated Tutsi menand women were targeted. Many familiesand children witnessed the deaths of theirloved ones. UNICEF estimates that morethan a third of Rwanda's children witnessedtheir families being murdered.

VALENTINA: "The survivors wandered around,discovering who was dead and who thekillers hadn't managed to kill. I tried to

ABANDONED BY THE WORLDABANDONED BY THE WORLD

that they would find refuge. One missionarysaid at the time: "There are no demons in hellany more; they are all in Rwanda." Althoughsome fought bravely against the killers, manypriests and nuns took an active part inperpetrating the slaughter – killing with theirown hands. Others gave absolution to thekillers and encouraged them to carry on theirwork. Many others in authority – localcouncillors, mayors, teachers – killed thosethey had previously been responsible for.

VALENTINA:"At 3pm on the afternoon of the 15th Aprilthe killers arrived, led by the mayorSylvestre Gacumbitsi. I recognised manyof our neighbours among interahamwewho surrounded the church. They carriedknives and clubs and were supported bysoldiers. Soon the church was encircledand the militia were shooting at everyone.Inside the church it was chaos aseveryone ran around screaming, trying tofind a place to hide. Originally I had beenwith my mother and brother but webecame separated in the hysteria thatensued."

Spearheading the killing were the gangsknown as interahamwe, a Kinyarwanda wordmeaning "those who attack together." Manywere young and unemployed, recruited andtrained to hate and kill the Tutsis. They usedmachetes, nail-studded clubs, axes, knives,guns, grenades and even farming implementssuch as hoes to massacre and maim.

VALENTINA: "I heard the sound of gunshots. Somepeople ran as soon as they heard thefighting but they were immediately gunneddown and killed by the interahamwe. Firstthey asked people to hand over theirmoney, saying they would spare thosewho paid. But after taking the money they

killed them anyway, they took off theirclothes, leaving them naked, and thenthey started to throw grenades. I saw aman blown up in the air, in pieces, by agrenade. The leader of the interahamwesaid they are snakes and to kill snakesyou have to smash their heads. Thekillers then entered the church hackingand clubbing as they entered. If theyfound someone alive they would smashtheir heads with stones."

The interahamwe spared no-one, not evenchildren. They would beat people to death,hacking off their limbs, burying them alive orthrowing them into the swamps. Manyvictims had their Achilles tendons cut withmachetes if they tried to escape, to immobil-ise them so they could be finished off later.

VALENTINA: "Gacumbitsi [the mayor of Nyarubuye]added: ‘If anyone is hiding in this churchbecause of a mistake, because he or sheis a Hutu they should tell me now.’ After afew seconds a boy of about seven or eightstood up. ‘I am a Hutu,’ he said. Ofcourse everyone knew he wasn't Hutu.Two interahamwe soldiers ran forward andbeat him with machetes so fiercely thathis body went flying up in the air, andcame down in several pieces... I saw thekillers take little children and smash theirheads together until they were dead."

Pregnant women were disembowelled.Breast-feeding women had their breasts cutoff because they were bringing up ‘snakes’.Babies were not spared.

GAUDENCE: "I was carrying the baby on my back whenthe killers came. When we arrived at thecompound – me still with the baby on myback – a group of male killers struck me

1312

GAUDENCE: "Many people had taken refuge at thedispensary. Then the interahamwe came tokill people there. All the people left,including those who were in-patients. Iimmediately felt as if I had died again. Icannot say I was sleeping, it was as if Iwere dead. After some days (I don't knowhow long I lay in the valley of death) one ofthe workers recognised me. He told myhusband's relatives but they did not cometo my rescue. I stayed at the hospital andlost count of the days. My body began torot and there were maggots on my head,my face and other places where I had beeninjured. I was covered in maggots andsmelt badly. It was at this time I learnedthe difference between body and spirit. Thebody was completely dead but my spiritwas still alive inside that rotten body."

Some survivors were left to struggle on, nottouched again, although this was not out ofcompassion.

DAPHROSA: "I was left alone. People would come tothe house, look in at me and just leave. Ihad no-one to bring me water. I had no-one to help me bury my husband and son.They told me they wanted to see how aTutsi corpse decomposes."

GAUDENCE: "People, especially children, would cometo see me through the glass in the door.They had never seen anything like melocked up in a room... Later I crawledslowly on the ground like a reptile andarrived at the road. When I arrived at themain road people came to see me becauseI was something interesting to watch.Even the interahamwe came to look at me,but no-one could kill me because no-onekills a dead person."

At last the horror was over. The country wasliberated; the genocide over; some familiesreunited.

VALENTINA:"On the 26th May a man appeared wholived near the church. When he caughtsight of me he wasn't sure if I was dead oralive. He brought some food and threw itto me and returned with a white journalist.He was a Frenchman who had beenmaking a documentary about the genocideand he had been filming all the deadbodies at what I later learnt was themassacre of Nyarubuye, where 3,000people were killed."

But lifelong friendships were destroyed by thegenocide and the legacy of hatred and fearremains.

DAPHROSA: "We really have no friends after thegenocide. Those we thought were friendshad been the ones who behind our backshad planned our execution. Just imaginethat no-one came to your rescue whenyou were injured. Just imagine that no-one gave you water to drink when youwere thirsty. Friendship ended withgenocide. Our neighbours did not reallywant us back. Many had looted ourproperty, both the bar and the home."

Daphrosa and her daughters Aline and Tinafound that they were HIV positive. The twogirls also found that they were pregnant as aresult of the gang rape they suffered.Because of their Christian faith, they decidedto keep the babies.

ABANDONED BY THE WORLDABANDONED BY THE WORLD

find my parents but I couldn't find anyonefrom my family.

“Three days after the killing began,another group of killers came, led byAntoine – who had been our neighbourand a friend of our family. Later that day,when it seemed that almost everyone wasdead, the interahamwe brought their dogswhich began eating the dead. Somesoldiers dragged out 15 people who werestill alive. I saw my sister among them.She was badly hurt. We only looked ateach other and couldn't speak. Thesoldiers hit her with machetes and clubsuntil she lay still and that was the last timeI saw her alive. One by one the soldiersfinished off the survivors. Later thatevening, when the interahamwe had gonehome after a day's work, I crawled back inchurch to hide among the dead bodies. Icrawled to my mother's body and lay therefor I don't know how long. During thecourse of the killing I had seen militia killmy father, my mother, my sister and mybrother Frodise."

It is estimated that 300,000 children werekilled in the Rwandan genocide, nearly onethird of those who lost their lives. No wordscan describe the suffering of those who died,the cruelty of the killers, or the pain of thosewho survived, traumatised for life.

VALENTINA: "I watched as dead bodies turned colourto greenish yellow and then dark blue,then bodies turned into skeletons. I layamong the rotting corpses for 43 dayswithout food and only holy water or rainwater. I lay among the rotting corpses,too weak to stand up, convinced that theworld had come to an end. A few otherchildren emerged from hiding placesaround the church. Now I’m not sure how

I survived. I do remember that for the firstfew days I was in terrible pain from thewounds on my head, but then I becamelike a log; it was if I couldn't feel, and Icould barely move except to crawl out todrink rain water. Now I am 22, but feelmuch older."

The children who survived the genocide werepulled alive from heaps of corpses, or foundwandering alone through deserted streets.Some had survived by hiding in cupboards, orin the bushes, unable to do anything whentheir families were massacred.

Rwanda's Ministry of Social Affairs estimatesthat 106,587 children survived the genocide.UNICEF estimates that 95,000 children wereorphaned by the genocide. Many of themsustained terrible injuries.

The killers were often former friends andneighbours.

VALENTINA: "I knew one of the soldiers. I begged him:‘Can you find it in your heart to forgive mefor being Tutsi?’ He spat at me and said:‘I'm not going to smear myself with yourblood. I'm going to ask someone else tokill you.’ He gestured to Antoine, ourother neighbour. ‘I'm going to kill you,’ hesaid, and I put up my hand to protect myhead from his machete. Then he begansmashing my hands with a clubbed stick,so that my fingers were broken and myskull was bleeding and the pain wasterrible. After that he beat me some moreon the shoulders and then again on myhead which was agonising, and soon thepain was so terrible that I knew no more."

Victims felt that their bodies had perished, butsomehow they survived.

1514

ABANDONED BY THE WORLD ABANDONED BY THE WORLD

DAPHROSA: "I worried about getting sick first. Whowould look after my children? What if weall got sick at the same time? I prayedthat by the time I died, my youngest childwould be old enough to look after herself.I felt we were surrounded by death. I wasfrightened. I lost my senses. I didn't evenwant to take a bath or eat, because I wascarrying this secret, which I couldn't sharewith anyone. Then I had the courage tovisit AVEGA. They helped me deal withmy infection; I was given support andadvice on how to survive. We met otherswho were HIV positive and who managedto live normal lives. I know that death willcome one day. Meanwhile I will have totry and live life to the full."

Most survivors raped and infected with HIVhave no access to the antiretroviral drugsneeded to keep well. Meanwhile manyrapists awaiting trial at Arusha prison, as partof the International Criminal Tribunal forRwanda (ITCR), get free medication.Prisoners held in Rwanda are entitled tomedical assistance, three meals a day andfamily visits. The survivors can barely meettheir basic needs. The suffering is not at anend. Funding is scarce.

DAPHROSA: "We are being helped by Survivors Fund(SURF) to access drugs. I have startedtaking them but my children have not. Iworry about where the money forantiretroviral therapy will come from.Maybe their immune systems will hold upbut I also hope that supporters or donorswill give them access to medication if theyneed it. I wonder if I will spend the rest ofmy life begging for help. I have nowhereto farm. I have no job."

At the end of the war over 130,000 peoplewere detained on suspicion of havingorganised or taken part in the genocide.Trials started in 1996, but faced with the hugenumber of cases to hear the governmentdecided to use the Gaçaca system of justice.It is a time-honoured way of resolvingconflicts and it is hoped that its use will speedup the genocide trials and hasten a return tonormality.

Some of the more powerful perpetrators fledthe country in an attempt to avoid the deathpenalty for Category One crimes. TheInternational Criminal Tribunal for Rwandabased in Tanzania was set up by the UnitedNations in 1994. Despite having over 800staff and having spent over half a billiondollars, it has so far secured only a handful ofconvictions. But even when justice is seen tobe done, it does not always bring aboutclosure for survivors.

VALENTINA: "I went to Arusha to testify at the ICTRwhere I saw the mayor of Nyarubuye,Sylvestre Gacumbitsi. I knew him but ofcourse he didn't know me. He looked fatand healthy and he wore a smart suit anda tie and he looked contented. I wasterrified, then I felt very angry. That gaveme the courage to speak and tell my story.He did not seem remotely concerned atwhat I had to say. Then his lawyers askedme questions, which made me bothscared and furious. What right had theyto question my credibility in this way, afterwhat I had suffered? My testimony at theinternational court brought me no relief.All it did was make me relive the horrorsof Nyarubuye Church."

The pain of the survivors drags them down.

ALINE:“I could find no peace living in Rwanda soI went to Uganda. I have since returned,but get tormented about interahamweraping me in the open. Everyone knowsabout it. I have no peace. Eleven yearson from the genocide I don't know how Iwill continue to survive. Those Hutus whoviolated me have their own families. Theyhave married and have children. As forme I will die with no child and no future.Life? I have no life. All I am waiting for isdeath. Nothing else. That's all that is leftfor me. I have no future. No life."

VALENTINA:“I imagine my mother coming in themiddle of the night. We embrace and thenI show her my mutilated hand. I tell her:‘look what has happened to me.’ We havea chat and she tells me she has been longgone. I see her and we talk. Then I wakeup and see my mother's image vanishinginto darkness. Then I remember that mymother is dead and gone for ever."

The United Nations had ample evidence thatthe genocide was about to be unleashed onan unsuspecting Tutsi population. Yet it didnothing. It pulled out what force it had.Foreigners were evacuated to safety. Theleader of the UN mission in Rwanda, RomeoDallaire, wrote later: "We watched as thedevil took control of paradise and fed on theblood of the people we were supposed toprotect."

It is estimated that up to a million peopleperished in Rwanda. They were brothers andsisters, mothers and daughters, fathers andsons. They loved and were loved. They hadfamilies and friends.

The world said: "Never again" after theHolocaust. Yet the international community –indeed the entire world – stood by as theRwandan genocide unfolded and did nothing.

1716

careful to protect the survivors for whomSURF speaks, SURF had asked women ofthe UK to read aloud in Trafalgar Square thetestimonies of Rwandan women. These

women in the UK allow their faces to beshown here as a testimony to the genocide,so that the stories of the Rwandan womenare told whilst keeping those women safe.

REMEMBERING THESURVIVORS

T o give a voice to the estimated25,000 women and girls raped anddeliberately infected with HIV in

1994, and to focus attention on SURF'scampaign to secure free antiretroviraltreatment for them, over 100 women joinedtogether in solidarity in Trafalgar Square on16th July 2004 for the Reading of theTestimonies. From Baroness Shirley Williamsto Beverley Knight, Lady Jakobovits to HelenBaxendale, Ellen Thomas, Hannah Watermanand Josie Darby, the survivors were given atruly public voice.

All the women stated why it was important forthem to give the survivors' testimonies avoice. Their reasons are interspersed withthe testimonies in the following pages.

Many of the women who survived the horrorsof the genocide in Rwanda are still veryfrightened by their experiences. Thisprofound fear is compounded by the releaseof many of the killers through the Gaçacasystem. Many women regularly see the menwho raped them and killed their families. Formany of the survivors having their picturesprinted in a book, next to their testimony, issomething that causes them great alarm – itwould allow the killers to know where thesewomen live and what they look like. Ever

In April 1994 I was about to take my A levelsand international events were vague, woollythings. It wasn't that I was especiallycallous, or thought that world occurrenceswere of no concern, but I was moreinterested in my revision and getting thegrades which would sweep me off touniversity and independence. The worldpassed me by: it was somewhere 'out there'on the peripheries.

Last year, however, when a friend who wasinvolved with SURF asked whether I wouldlike to read a testimony in observation of thetenth anniversary of the Rwandanmassacre, I immediately said yes. I knewhardly anything about the genocide but myreaction was a gut response: a massacreentailed victims, and victims deservedsympathy. A few weeks later an information

pack arrived for me and through that, andthrough subsequent searches on theinternet, I read more and more aboutRwanda. I learnt that it wasn't only me whostood on the sidelines: both the internationalmedia and international community failed torespond to the systematic massacre of theTutsis in 1994.

This is why the SURF Reading of theTestimonies, ten years on, was especiallyimportant: as well as being a gesture ofremembrance it also gave those womenwho suffered – and survived – a voice and aplatform.

Eloise MillarWriter

Pho

tos

gene

rous

ly p

rovi

ded

by S

am W

hite

.

19

PERSONAL STORIES:SURVIVAL AGAINST THEODDS

M emories of events of the Rwandangenocide are still fresh in theminds of its survivors. Survivors

place no belief in the saying that to forgive,one must forget. It is impossible for survivorsto suppress the memories of what happenedin 1994. Their memories can only be laid torest once they have been given the time fortheir wounds, still raw, to heal.

The survivors may have cheated death, butthey tasted it. They have paid a considerableprice for survival. They know what it is to

suffer; they know what it means to lose lovedones, relatives and property. Most of themtoday live below the poverty line. They needto be consoled and cared for. Many orphansand widows have lost everything.

Despite the painful stories, we areencouraged to find that, incredibly, somesurvivors hold out hope for a better future.They are not lost forever. Here are some oftheir stories.

2120

the main nave, used by the priests forstorage and living quarters. Many peoplechose to hide here. As I crouched in acorner, Gacumbitsi appeared. He had amicrophone with him. He shouted: "We arethe interahamwe. We are about to eliminateevery Tutsi so that in the future no-one willeven know what a Tutsi looked like. Ifanyone is hiding in this church by mistake,because really he or she is a Hutu, theyshould tell me now." After a few seconds aboy of about seven or eight stood up. "I am aHutu," he said. Of course everyone knewthat he wasn't Hutu. Two of the interahamweran forward with machetes, slashing him sofiercely that his body went flying up in the air,coming down in several pieces. I watched allthis, terrified, as everyone screamed, beggingto be saved.

But the church was encircled. Theinterahamwe opened fire. Some people triedto escape, but they were immediately gunneddown. Inside the church it was chaos aseveryone ran around, screaming, trying tofind a place to hide. Originally I'd been withmy mother and brother but we becameseparated in the hysteria that ensued.

The killers then entered the church. Peoplewere stripped of their clothes. They wereasked to hand over their money, thinking thattheir lives would be spared. But the killingsoon began. Grenades were thrown. I saw aman blown up in the air in pieces. Then theinterahamwe started hacking and clubbingeveryone. Their leader said all Tutsis weresnakes and that to kill snakes you have tosmash their heads, so if they found someonealive they would smash their heads withstones. I even saw them take little childrenand smash their heads together until theywere dead.

The killings continued over four days. At

night the butchers rested, guarding thechurch so that no-one would escape. Therewas so much noise, people begging formercy. But the interahamwe would not listen,would not let anyone get away.

I'd been hiding in a small cubbyhole, quitenear the entrance of the church. Because itwas so small, nobody bothered to check tosee if anyone was in there. I would watch theinterahamwe throw children at the wall aboveme, or kill people with machetes. At the endof each day, men would come and stickknives in those who lay wounded to makesure they were dead.

At night all you could hear was peoplewailing. Survivors wandered around todiscover who was dead and who the killershadn't quite managed to kill. I crawled out ofthe hole and tried to find my parents but Icouldn't find anyone. The next day, the killersreturned and the slaughter happened all overagain. It's impossible to tell you how terribleit was.

Three days after the massacre began, on16th April, a new group of killers arrived.They were led by Antoine, once a neighbourand friend of our family. I was hidingunderneath a pile of bodies, and as Antoineand his companions passed me by, I held mybreath. Later that day, when it seemed thatalmost everyone was dead, the interahamwebrought their dogs which began eating thedead. That was horrible. When the dogscame near me, I swiped at them and they leftme. Soldiers walked around checking ifanyone was alive. Those they found theydragged outside. In all, there were 15including me. They sat us down in thechurchyard with many other people. I sawmy sister among them. She was badly hurt.We could only look at each other. Wecouldn't speak. One by one the soldiers

THE TESTIMONY OFVALENTINA

M y name is Valentina. I am asurvivor of the Rwandangenocide. This is my testimony.

I was 11 years old at the time of thegenocide, living with my parents, fourbrothers and three sisters in Kibungo, nearNyarubuye. We were a happy family andlucky children who didn't want for anything. Iwas the third oldest, at primary school in yearthree. We were Tutsi, but had many friendsand neighbours who were Hutus.

The killing began on Friday afternoon. TheTutsi of Nyarubuye had sensed an impendingdisaster. We were unaware that elsewhere inthe country massacres of Tutsis had begun,immediately after Juvenal Habyarimana, thePresident of Rwanda, had been assassinated.

My parents were greatly worried on hearingabout the assassination on the radio. Soonafter fires began to burn in our neighbourhood.

We heard that the killing of Tutsis had begunin Rwanda's capital Kigali. On 12th April, ourTutsi neighbours were attacked and murdered.

We knew what this meant for us Tutsis.Several adults went to appeal to the Mayor,Sylvestre Gacumbitsi. He was Hutu, butwhen he advised that Tutsis should seekrefuge in the Catholic Church, everyone tookhim at his word. After all, as my parents toldme, this is where Tutsis found sanctuaryduring previous attacks in the 1950’s, 60’s and70’s.

The actual killings began when the armyentered in Nyarubuye, killing Tutsis in thelocal marketplace. My family and I fled to thechurch. It was the13th April.

We arrived to find that the priests had fled,that there was no food or water. But at leastwe had found shelter and were now safe. Orso we thought.

Around 3,000 Tutsis sought sanctuary in thischurch. Many refugees recounted horrificstories of massacres of Tutsis. Some hadbeen injured. It was a frightening experience.

At 3pm on 15th April, the killers arrived. Theywere led by the Mayor, Sylvestre Gacumbitsi.I recognised many of our Hutu neighboursamongst the interahamwe who surroundedthe church. They carried knives and clubsand were supported by soldiers.

The church had a number of little rooms off

I am 15 years old and I live in London.Since I was young I have known of theTerrible suffering of the Rwandan genocide.today I want to show my support for thefemale survivors of this horrific event and Ihope to increase awareness of the sufferingwhich still exists today by reading thetestimony.

Laura LumleyStudent

2322

THE TESTIMONY OF VALENTINATHE TESTIMONY OF VALENTINA

the church. Now I'm not sure how I survived.I do remember that in the first few days I wasin terrible pain from the wounds on my head.I became like a log; I couldn't feel and barelycould move, except to crawl out to drinkrainwater.

On 26th May a man appeared. His name, Inow know, was Caliste. He lived near thechurch. When he caught sight of me, I thinkhe wasn't sure if I was dead or alive. Hebrought some food and threw it to me. Hethen returned with a white journalist. He wasFrench, and had been making a documentaryabout the genocide, filming the dead at what Ilater learnt was the massacre of Nyarubuye,where 3,000 people were killed.

I now live with a cousin, who was in Kenyaduring the genocide. I am studying at school.

I went to Arusha to testify at the InternationalCriminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR), where Igave evidence against Gacumbitsi, formerMayor of Nyarubuye. I knew him, but ofcourse he didn't know me. He looked fat andhealthy, and contented. He wore a smart suitwith a tie. I was terrified at first, but then I felt

began to finish off the survivors. When theyreached my sister, they began to hit her withmachetes and clubs. She was still. That wasthe last time I saw her alive.

I knew one of the soldiers, whose name wasFerdinand. I begged him: "Can you find it inyour heart to forgive me for being Tutsi?Please spare me." He spat at me, and said:"Is this a hospital that I should forgive you?But I'm not going to smear myself with yourblood. I'm going to ask someone else to killyou." He gestured to Antoine, our otherneighbour.

"I'm going to kill you," he said. I put up myhand to protect my head. He began smashingmy hands with a clubbed stick, so that myfingers were broken and my skull wasbleeding. The pain was terrible. After that hebeat me some more, on my shoulders andthen again on my head. The pain became so

agonising that I knew no more. I passed out.When I gained conscious, I was still bleeding,lying covered in a mixture of blood and mudfrom the rain that had been pouring down allday.

Later in the evening when the interahamwehad returned home, I crawled back to thechurch to hide amongst the dead. I found mymother's body and lay there for I don't knowhow long. During the course of the killing Ihad seen the interahamwe kill my mother, myfather, my sister and my brother Frodise.

The church was stinking; bodies were rottingaround me. I remember a girl screaming andshouting. I tried to sit up and speak to her,and when she saw me moving she rantowards me. But she lost her balance andsmashed into me, which really hurt. She waslike a person possessed. Although she wasbadly hurt, she had a lot of energy. She keptrunning from one end of the room to theother, falling over the bodies, until shestepped on a mine. Her body exploded. Shegroaned until she died. I crawled over andput a cloth over her body.

I stayed among the dead in the church atNyarubuye for 43 days without food. I hadonly holy water or rainwater to drink. Iwatched as dead bodies turned colour,greenish yellow and then dark blue, thenturned into skeletons. I lay among the rottingcorpses, too weak to stand, convinced thatthe world had come to an end. I becameweaker and weaker. Wild dogs found thechurch and started eating the corpses. Onecame close to where I was lying and startedto eat a body. I took a stone and threw it atthe dog, driving it away. They were scared ofme, so left me alone.

In the weeks that followed, a few otherchildren emerged from hiding places around

To think that I watched the evening newsand switched over makes me squirm. I sawthe pictures and I heard the reports. I talkedabout it with friends. I did nothing.

I run the Holocaust Educational Trust. Westrive to ensure people never forget thehorror of the past but also learn for thefuture. Fifty years after the Holocaust wewitnessed another tragedy. What did welearn? How could it happen?

I am proud to be here today to show mysupport for the Survivor's Fund whose workis so crucial. I have been privileged to workwith SURF and its founder – an inspirationto us all.

Karen PollockChief Executive

Holocaust Educational Trust

very angry. That gave me the courage tospeak out and tell my story. He didn't seemremotely concerned at what I had to say.Then his lawyer asked me questions, whichmade me both scared and furious. Whatright had they to question me in this way,after what I had suffered? My testimonybrought me no relief. Worse, I had to relivethe horrors of Nyarubuye Church.

Gatumbitsi was sentenced in 2004 for crimesrelated to genocide. At least this is arecognition that genocide happened, and thatthose in charge must take responsibility fortheir actions.

But my story and grief is far from over. I havea recurring dream. I imagine my mothercoming in the middle of the night. Weembrace, and then I show her my mutilatedhand. "Mother, look what's become of me," Itell her: "Look what has happened to me."We talk and she tells me she has long beengone. Then I wake up and see my mother'simage vanishing into darkness. Then Iremember that my mother is dead.

2524

I had a baby at home. You only needed tofeed her. She never changed growing up,always placid.

Tina was a calm child too, thoughtful but notvery clever. When she was in a secondaryschool, I was always frustrated. I would tryteaching her how to solve a maths equation,but she would not understand a thing. Shefound French the most difficult subject. Attimes her mistakes, made me laugh. If I toldher that she was a girl in French, sherepeated it to me saying I was a girl. Shealways made me laugh. She was the mostlovely and pleasing child. She never gaveme trouble and doesn't now.

Eric, the youngest of the boys, was acomedian. He would make us laugh all thetime. He was very fond of me. He would notdrink tea without asking me to taste it first,but then he would turn the cup roundbecause he wanted to drink from where I haddrunk. He liked to be the centre of attention,and was very streetwise and an inventor too.He always knew how to get his own way andhow to be in the good books. He liked cars.He used to make pretend cars and play in hisroom for hours giving his sisters a ride.

All my children taught themselves how todrive. If we parked the car in the drive, thechildren would jump in and try drive off.Sometimes we would be called if theyactually did. We used to have such goodtimes together.

Innocente was my youngest child, and herfather adored her. She used to hold onto mydress so that she would always be my side.She slept in my bed until she went tosecondary school. She loved having mumand dad around. She lived for dad, imitatinghis every move and word. She was the mostspoilt of all, being the youngest.

Towards the genocide Before the war, our neighbours began to getsuspicious of us and behaved strangelytowards us. Since the war in 1990, therewere rumours that we were inkotanyi. One ofmy husband's friends had in fact beenimprisoned, accused of being an inkotanyi.This scared my husband.

Our neighbours would keep their distancefrom us. We were isolated. We were calledsnakes. We stopped being seen as people.We became housebound. Only a handful ofneighbours would drink at my bar. A fewothers dared too, especially soldiers, as I hadthe largest bar in the area, always wellstocked. Sometimes when drinks ran out inother places, they would come over to mybar. I was always careful with these people.I acted friendly.

But one day, when a Hutu we know died, thetables turned. I was vigilant. I kept my barclosed and hoped for the best. There wastrouble stirring but no-one harmed my family.Neighbours said I was their good mama,even nicknaming me Mucyecuru (grandma).

We had to survive somehow, so I decided tokeep the bar open. I used to roast the bestchicken in the neighbourhood, so crowds ofyoung people used to come to my bar. Iwould befriend many of these unruly gangs,giving them free drinks and telling them not tofight each other. I would tell them that all Icared about was my business; that I was aChristian and prayed for them. They alwaysinsisted on knowing which side I supported.

Just like the bars, many of which took thenames of political parties that were beginningto form, there were markets and shops wherewe were not allowed to shop. They refusedto sell us food. Sometimes they would tell usto take our money elsewhere.

THE TESTIMONY OFDAPHROSA

M y name is Daphrosa. I am asurvivor of the Rwandangenocide. This is my testimony.

Life before the genocideI met my late husband whilst he was workingas a customs officer. At the time, I had a jobwith an Indian company clearing goods atcustoms. Once I got to know him, he wouldsometimes help me jump the queue to get mygoods cleared quicker. This made my bosshappy with my work.

I started to treat him as a brother. I wasyoung then – he was eight years older thanme. I didn't ever think of him as my futurehusband but I think he always fancied me,and wanted me to be his wife. I wascarefree, funny, and wild then. I jumped andran everywhere. He would tell me to behaveas a grown woman. I would tell him to savehis lectures for his future wife.

After a time, we met each other's parents.My father grew fond of him, and my motheralways spoke highly of him as a potentialhusband who would make me happy. I reallydidn't want to marry someone older than me.In the end I gave in to pressure and agreedto marry him. It was a decision I never onceregretted.

We lived a happy life. We never argued orquarrelled. We understood each other. Wehad no problems in our marriage. We alwaysthought we would grow old and die together.

My husband always made time for us to goout together. We had five beautiful children:two boys and three girls. We would go toLake Muhazi and have fun. He adored thechildren. He would always come back homefrom work with something in a carrier bag,presents for the children. He knew whateach child liked. They could never wait forhim to come home.

In short we had everything we needed, wenever lacked anything nor did the children gowithout things they wanted. We were notrich, but we certainly weren't poor. We hadjust enough. The house we lived in had fourrooms. Girls slept in one room and boys inthe other. We had a family car and myhusband had a company car. We didn't workweekends. By the time the children hadgrown up, I had left my job and set up myown business – running a bar in a room offthe main house.

The childrenAllan, my first born was my only child wholoved me most. I was very happy with him.He did not like to speak much. Maybe hewas meant to die – that's all I can say. Hewas very clever. His father used to say thathe was destined to go places. He was themodel child for the rest of the family. I don'twant to say too much. Remembering him istoo sad and painful.

Aline was a peaceful child. I could put her tosleep and just get on with my work with notrouble at all. Many people didn't even know

2726

The housekeeper boasted about raping me –his employer – to the others. He knifed myprivates after raping me. On the third day,they returned with a community officer. Shesaid she was going to protect my girls. Butwhen she left with the interahamwe, I couldhear them mocking me, saying that they weretaking them to be their wives.

I was left alone. People would come to thehouse, look in at me and just leave. I had no-one to bring me water. I had no-one to helpbury my husband and son. They told methey wanted to see how a Tutsi corpsedecomposes.

Surviving todayA soldier that I used to bribe to keep friendly,so that he wouldn't take away my car, foundme and my dead husband and son. Peoplehad looted my house, coming in and outcarrying goods, stepping over me though Iwas still alive. Some even stepped on me.

He ordered the neighbours to bury myhusband and son behind our house. He washelping to move injured people from place toplace, and said he may be able to take mepretending I was a wife of a soldier. He toldme to first find my children, then he wouldreturn to take us away. A neighbour,

Sebazungu, had hidden my youngest two.Thankfully, they were safe. After a week thesoldier returned and took us to a Red CrossCamp.

The Red Cross treated me and the woundsbegan to heal. But once the war ended, theyasked those who had somewhere to return toleave. I couldn't go back to Kiyovu for fearthat interahamwe still hiding there would killme, and my children. I didn't think anyoneelse had survived except us three. When thesoldier came to check on us I asked him totake me to my parents' home, hoping theywere still alive.

All my brothers except for one had beenkilled. I learnt that my mother had survivedand was in an RPF camp with my survivingbrother. We stayed there until my brotherreturned. He was surprised to find us, andtold us the good news – that he had foundmy girls alive in Kigali. They had no idea wethree had survived either. We were soonreunited. Tina and Aline were alive and safe.We were soon reunited,

We really have no friends after the genocide.Those we thought were friends, had been theones who behind our back had planned ourexecution. Just imagine that no-one came toyour rescue when you were injured. Justimagine that no-one gave you water to drinkwhen you were thirsty. Friendship ended withgenocide.

Our neighbours didn't really need us back.They had lived well and profited from usbeing away. Many looted our property, boththe bar and home. Just after the genocide,interahamwe that had not fled tried to kill uswith a grenade so that we would not be aliveto pursue justice. A grenade was thrown intomy room and it exploded, narrowly missingme. We had to move away from our home,

THE TESTIMONY OF DAPHROSATHE TESTIMONY OF DAPHROSA

I am a Holocaust survivor. After the NaziHolocaust, Jews the world over cried to Godand to mankind – ‘Never Again’. I havewatched with horror the pain of the womenof Rwanda and as a Jew, a mother, agrandmother and a great grandmother Ihave to stand up and cry again to God andto mankind and say 'Never Again'.

Lady JakobovitsSocial Activist

Between 1990 and 1994, politics increasinglybegan to divide people. Segregation becamecommon. In our church there was noanimosity in the beginning but other churcheswere dividing people, even refusing to giveEucharist to Tutsis.

There were three radio stations in thecountry; Radio RTLM (Radio TélévisionLibres des Mille Collines) was Hutu, RadioMuhabura was supposed Tutsi, and RadioRwanda for all the people. Radio Rwandawould promote the messages of government,which over time became more and more anti-Tutsi. People who worked on Radio RTLM,such as Kantono, would incite his listeners tokill the Tutsi enemy. Radio Rwanda andRTLM played a big role in the killings. It eventaught killers how to use a machete to murderpeople quickly, and the Hutu TenCommandments.

The genocide beginsWhen the genocide began, my housekeeperpromised he would help protect us. But hewas interahamwe [one of those that killed].

We still tried to live normally, despite thegenocide. We would open the bar but fewpeople would come to drink. Those who didwould leave without paying. On the third day,things went from bad to worse. Theinterahamwe stormed the bar. They tookeverything. Our housekeeper was amongthem.

Finally, we decided to try to escape themadness. We left the house but didn't getfar. My husband was captured and beatenand I was forced to return home. He told usto expect the worst. The interahamwe dragged him back to thehouse, demanding that he give them all heowned, saying he wouldn't need it anymoreas he was going to die. They forced him to

sign away his cars, property and belongings.They hit him and sat him in the chair in thesitting room. They brought us all in the sittingroom and started forcing us to take ourclothes off. The housekeeper raped me. Myhusband wanted to intervene but they stavedhim off, hitting him with a masus [a club withnails] on his neck. He fell back in the chair.

They would pour beer for us to drink,mocking us that Tutsi women did not wantthem before, but that now they were going tohave us. Each took us in turns. My son triedto stop them, I suppose thinking he wasgoing to die anyway. But they fought him off,hitting him with everything they had – masus,knives, sticks – until he died. Theinterahamwe said they wouldn't waste a bulleton him, and they threw him behind the chairthat my husband was sitting in.

Then they continued raping us. Mydaughters wanted to scream out in pain butwere too scared to, so we remained quiet. Myhusband was forced to watch the wholeordeal. They didn't want to kill him quickly.They wanted him to watch, then die slowly.Helplessly, he watched them violating us.They then hit him with a hammer on his headand back. He died the next day.

The rape continued into the second day. Icould not take it anymore. But when I tried toresist, they hit me on my arm and shoulder.Blood started flowing and the children beganto scream. They attempted to run off butwere stopped. They continued to rape mydaughters too, saying they wanted to testTutsi women. They then slashed me with aknife across my breast. Every so often theywould take a break to drink whisky, whichmade them go even more crazy, as they tookit in turns moving from one of us then toanother. By the time they left, we couldn'teven stand.

2928

and cry. Counsellors say that crying istherapeutic, so I let them have a cry now andthen.

We are being helped by SURF to accessantiretroviral therapy. These survivorsorganisations have became like family. Ihave started taking antiretrovirals but mychildren have not. I worry where the moneyfor antiretroviral therapy will come from.Maybe their immune systems will hold up, butI hope that they will also be able to getsupporters or donors to give them access toantiretroviral therapy like myself.

I have a lot to take care of still. My son is stillnot well. I worry about my young daughtertoo. What will happen to her if we all die?The greatest challenge we face is telling mygrandchild that he is HIV positive. He is stillyoung, but I don't know if I ever will have thecourage to explain to him that he is infected too.

When I see that 11 years on I am still able tosurvive, I wonder about life ahead. But I amnot certain what the future holds. I wonder ifI will spend the rest of my life begging forhelp. I have nowhere to farm. I have no job.I have no real future. I keep asking myselfwhat I will do. Then I turn to God. WhateverGod's will, it will be. I may still then be herein ten year’s time.

To think that I can see the future and planahead is impossible. I will take whatever Godplan, that's how I am able to keep my moralehigh, smile and sometimes even have alaugh.

We celebrated together when both babieswere born. But one of my daughters wasunlucky – her baby died soon after birth.

Dying tomorrowIt would have been a miracle to escapeinfections, but everything was possible.However, we soon found out that all three ofus were HIV positive. I worried about gettingsick first. Who would look after my children?What if we all got sick at the same time? Iprayed that by the time I died, the youngestchild would be old enough to look afterherself. I felt we were surrounded by death.

I was frightened. I lost my senses. I didn'teven want to take a bath or eat, mainlybecause I was carrying this secret, which Icouldn't share with anyone. Then I eventuallyhad courage to visit AVEGA again. Theyhelped me to deal with my fear, to cope withthe infection. I was given support and adviceon how to survive, advice which I found mosthelpful. We met others who were HIV positiveand who still managed to live normal lives.

I know that death will come one day.Meanwhile I have to try to live my life to thefull. That gave me courage to tell mychildren, especially my daughter, who waslosing weight and had the symptoms of beingHIV positive. When she left hospital after herpregnancy, people suspected she was HIVpositive and all the rumours forced her toescape to Uganda.

When I told my other daughter, she refused tobelieve me and did not want to take a test.But her son tested HIV positive and she hadno choice but to be tested because it wasevident that the baby had caught the virusfrom his mum. Eventually they accepted theirstatus too. Sometimes we sit and remember

THE TESTIMONY OF DAPHROSATHE TESTIMONY OF DAPHROSA

I am originally from New Zealand, I am ahomeopath and naturopath and I live inNorth London.

Earlier this year I lost a very good friend toAIDS. With the help of antiretroviral drugs,he had lived with AIDS for over 15 years.He had a creative life, he was an artist, andI really value having known him, he hadsuch strong spirit.

I cannot imagine how the women andchildren of Rwanda have suffered since thegenocide of 1994, without access toantiretroviral drugs. It is imperative that thisinjustice is redressed, and that they aregiven the same chance to live a better lifethat my friend had.

Tulip HambletonHomeopath

because we were still in danger. We survivedbut they are not happy we are still here.They were sure we had to die. They refusedto hide us but we survived. They must livewith their guilt.

My youngest boy found it hard to cope. He isgreatly disturbed from the trauma of seeingwhat happened during the genocide. He wasso shocked he was unable to cope. Hedeveloped behavioural problems. He couldn'tstep into the sitting room after what he sawthere.

We slowly began to try to rebuild our lives.We asked for support from AVEGA and gothelp with dealing with post-traumatic stress.They trained us and advised us on how tosurvive. I received help with copingmechanisms. Sometimes, I was givenspecialised training to help solve the manyproblems I faced. They helped me to findways of dealing with the aftermath ofgenocide, helping my children to cope andthat gave me great strength.

I began putting things in order, rebuilding mylife, providing for my children. I started asmall business. We had money in the bankbefore the genocide, and I managed toreclaim 4,000,000 RwF (£4,000). I was ableto take care of my children's needs,especially looking after my girls throughchildbirth. This was the greatest challenge ofall. They were hospitalised. I didn't have anyhelp or friends and they were in a bad state.

I struggled with my business and managed tobuild us a new home away from where weused to live, to escape the neighbours. Weare managing somehow, not the way we usedto live but not so badly off either. The bottomline is that we do not go without food.

When I found out that my girls were carrying

interahamwe babies, I wasn't happy. But Ihave faith that helped me stay strong. Thegirls were convinced that they had to abortthe unwanted pregnancies. There were freedoctors helping with abortion, but I thoughtagainst it and worked hard to teach them, toconvince them that this was not the way out.They agreed.

I was scared of death. I feared losing themso soon after finding them again. I would notforgive my stupidity if the abortions had killedthem too. I also felt that abortion is killing,and by aborting the babies we would be nodifferent from those killers who tried to kill us.It was a sad decision for all of us.

I prepared them for the big day, took them tocheck-ups and bought baby clothes just likeany expectant grandmother would do.

3130

THE TESTIMONY OFALINE

Iam the third born in my family. I havetwo sisters and now one brother. Myother brother was killed in the genocide.

Before the war, we had a happy life. Wewould go out together on family trips eachweekend. We girls liked to go out with dad,and the boys with mum. We went out a lotand had some great times. We would eat outon the weekend, feasting on special roastchicken. We were a model family in thecommunity and we were really happy.

When the genocide began, I was in the firstyear of secondary school. I remember somebeing killed and the headmaster saying therewere infiltrators (inkotanyi) in the school. Ifelt frightened, but had no idea what he wastalking about. I didn't really understand thefull implications.

One of the boys told me to have courage,because we were to be expelled from theschool. I worried about what my father wouldsay, especially if he thought that I had beeninvolved in politics. But things seemed tosettle down a bit after that, but theintimidation continued and then thesegregation of Hutu and Tutsi started.

I remember when the 1990 war began, beforethe genocide. I was still in primary schooland the girls there used to say inyenzi werecrawling around everywhere, that they hadtails. I didn't understand any of this. Whenthe teachers asked the Hutu to stand in class,I would stand up. But the teacher would then

tell me to sit down, because I wasn't Hutu.There were only three Tutsis in my class, so Istarted standing up with them, very confusedabout the significance of this.

The genocideThinking about the genocide, I sometimesthink, at least my brother died immediately.My father had to watch us being raped andabused. My mother was raped, then mysister and then me. My father was forced towatch. He couldn't move, not even lookaway.

When he died, we were taken away by afemale councillor. She was calledNyirabagenzi Odette. We stayed with her for3 days, cooking and doing domestic work forher and the interahamwe guarding her.

The councillor said I should take a man as ahusband, as she wasn't employed to protectTutsi. She was in fact killing them herself.She then gave me to her brother as a wife.He was called Munana. He said he wasgoing to protect me, and I believed him. Iwas at that point separated from my sisterTina. That was the last time I heard from heruntil after the genocide.

He took me to the interahamwe. Their werefour of them. I remember one was calledSeseseko, and another Gisenyi. While athome I was raped by four men. Here I wasto be raped by another four men.

I begged them to stop, but they refused.They said that we used to refuse Hutu men,and that now they have the right to do asthey wished with us.

They then took me to their command post, ata place they called Soferwa, where they didtheir killing. When we arrived they put mewith street kids and delinquents, saying thatthey had brought them Tutsi women to test.They kept us there for one month, raping usand doing with us what they wanted.

I was only 14 years old at the time. TheCouncillor's brother, Munana, was my oldclassmate. I begged him to keep me tohimself, not allow me to be raped byeveryone and anyone. But he didn't wantanything more to do with me, so took me tofind refuge in St. Famille Church. There weremany refugees

Many interahamwe made regular visits to thischurch. They came in large numbers, takingme and other women out of the church torape us. I lost count how many times thishappened. I can't even begin to explain.This went on for two months. Theinterahamwe would bring soldiers who were

manning the roadblock, to show themstubborn Tutsi women who refused to have aHutu man. They gave me to seven soldiers,who all raped me until they had enough ofme.

Life after the genocide When the war ended, I was in St. FamilleChurch. One morning we woke up as usual,expecting the worst as usual, but there wasno one around the church, except forrefugees fleeing from the RPF soldiers. I ranhome to see if anyone was there, and foundmy sister Tina. The house though had beenrazed, so we had to make and live in a smallmakeshift house.

Whilst out fetching water, I met an RPFsoldier. He looked after me, and Tina, for 2months. He bought us food, checked on usuntil mum returned.

I soon found I was pregnant. So was mysister Tina. As my mother is a devoutChristian, she would not allow us to have anabortion. She said the children were innocentcreatures, even though there were peoplewilling to help get rid of unwanted babiesfrom interahamwe pregnancies.

In April I had the opportunity to visit Rwandaat the time of the commemoration of thegenocide.

I will never forget meeting one group ofwomen who had suffered seeing their familymurdered and were then raped. When weasked what we could do to help them theyreplied: 'Just tell people in your country howit is for us.' Then they said they would likemedicines so that they will live to see justicedone.

Ruth Wooldridge, OBEPallitive Care Nurse

My name is Polly Toynbee. I'm a journalistat The Guardian. I'm here because whathappened in Rwanda was a disgrace to thewestern world that stood by watching andletting it happen. It is just as shocking tohear that the survivors are still not gettingthe medical and financial support they need,especially the women who were seriallyraped and deliberately infected with the HIVvirus.

Polly ToynbeeJournalist

32

I carried the baby, but it died. I spent so muchtime in hospital unwell. We didn't know why.Then I found out. The doctor told me that Iwas HIV positive.

Luckily, my mum stayed strong for me.Otherwise I wouldn't have known what to do.She looked after me, gave me milk andnutrients. She would tell my young siblings togo easy on me, as they still had a life aheadthat I didn't have. Every little money sheearned, she spent to try helping me. By theend of the genocide, I had lost a great deal ofweight, but I slowly began to start putting onweight again.

In our neighbourhood, we were the onlyTutsis who survived. But neighbours, andpeople who had witnessed my ordeal, spreadrumours. They would mock us, saying thatthe Tutsis had won. They would say that Iwas infected and useless.

THE TESTIMONY OF ALINE

I could find no peace living in Rwanda so Iwent to Uganda. I have since returned, butstill get tormented about interahamwe rapingme in the open. Everyone knows about it. Ihave no peace. I don't know. Just thinkingabout it all is traumatic. There is nothing wecan really do.

Eleven years on from the genocide, I don'tknow how I will continue to survive. ThoseHutus who violated me have their ownfamilies; they have married and havechildren. As for me, I will die with no child orfuture.

Life? I have no life. That is why I wanted tostay away in Uganda and never return toRwanda.

I am not happy here. When I see myclassmates, people I grew up with, it hurts.All I am waiting for, all I have to look forwardto, is death. Nothing else. That's all there isleft for me. I have no future. I have no life.

Sadly I have experienced at first hand oneof my closest friends living with HIV. Thefundamental difference though between myfriend and Nathalie (who's testimony I amgiving a voice) is quality of life. It is with thisin mind that I whole heartedly supportSURF's aim to give these brave womenaccess to affordable treatment and thechance to live as normal a life as possible.

Hannah WatermanActor

When you experience tragic events such aswhat happened in Rwanda ten years agothrough a television set, I think it's very easyto assume that once the cameras stopfilming, and the journalist stop reporting, thatthe suffering you're witness to ceases aswell.

The work of the Survivors Fund is soimportant not only because it provides vitalmedical and financial support for those whohave been affected by the genocide, butalso because it reminds us that those whosurvived are still with us and that theirneeds and their stories must never beforgotten. I hope that we help to makes adifference.

Hattie MorahanActor

3534

wounding many refugees. They kept firing,while interahamwe hacked to death anyonethat fell or attempted to escape. We ran indifferent directions. It was pandemonium.Most of those who died were women andchildren. They could not run as fast as mento avoid the grenades.

I managed to escape and returned to myhouse to see if my family had returned. I hada plan to escape to Tanzania. They were notthere. They were at the church, but due tothe thousands of refugees that had gatheredthere, I had not managed to locate them.

I went back to the church, where thousandsmore people had gathered in the churchyard.Many more were hiding in the church. Therewas hardly room to move, never mind searchfor them. As darkness began to fall I still hadnot found them, but decided anyhow to spendthe night there.

Early in the morning of the 15th of April, thekillers came. They were stripping people totake their clothes, stealing anything valuable,demanding money.

I managed to enter the church, which waspacked, climbing and jumping over people.There were people everywhere. I found ayoung man I knew who told me that he hadseen my family. That was a relief, but I stillhad to find them. I eventually reached them.We tried to leave, but we couldn't negotiateour way out of the packed church especiallywith two distressed children.

That afternoon, the Mayor of Rusumo,Sylvestre Gacumbitsi, arrived. Peopleventured out of the church to speak with him,to tell him the problems they were facing.

Many people were by now hungry, especiallythe elderly and the children. Many had

diarrhoea and the children were gettingdehydrated and sick. The situation was bad.

The Mayor had come in a convoy with manysoldiers accompanying him, along with localbusinessmen from Kibungo, including aformer government official called Cyasa anda well-known trader called Nzabonimana.They had brought with them countlessinterahamwe. As the refugees gathered tohear what the Mayor was going to say,thousands more interahamwe descended onthe church waving machetes, sticks, andclubs, joining the Mayor's entourage. Theybegan to encircle the church, with us trappedin the middle.

The Mayor signalled the start of the killing,using a machete to hack down a man. Hethen gave orders for the soldiers andinterahamwe to begin the massacre. Theybegan to fire indiscriminately into the crowds.Chaos and carnage broke lose. Shootingand cries could be heard from everywhere,and then the explosions rang out asgrenades were thrown into the crowd.

Many people fell. Some retreated into thechurch, while others fled in all directions.Shots were fired and grenades thrownthrough the windows of the church.

My family and I were still in church unhurt.But we struggled to get outside, away fromthe church and the flying bullets andgrenades. Many people were killed in thestampede to escape. Those who got out, metonly more bullets. Many fell, while otherswere forced back into the church.

Grenades thrown in church exploded onpeople, scattering their body parts around.Many people lay injured, unable to move, andbodies piled up on top of each other.

M y name is Feridina. I am asurvivor of the Rwandangenocide. This is my testimony.

On the 7th of April, I heard on the earlymorning news that the President had beenkilled in a plane crash. I suspected the worst,but had no idea of the scale of the atrocitiesthat were to follow. In Nyarubuye, the killingsdidn't start until the 13th April. We werehearing stories from refugees fleeingneighbouring towns that Tutsis were beingattacked and killed in Kigali, that organisedgangs of well-armed men were looking forTutsis to kill; that road blocks were beingerected everywhere to stop Tutsis fromescaping the slaughter.

Many refugees were coming to Nyarubuyeseeking sanctuary in the church. We heardthese stories of mass killings, but still did notthink it would spread to our hometown. Thedeath of ten Belgian soldiers and the PrimeMinister was cause for great concern, butthere had been unrest before, that was sooncontained.

By the 11th of April, across the communes ofKibungo, people fled and homes burned.Many headed towards the Rusumo borderwith Tanzania, but many decided the parishchurch of Nyarubuye offered a safer refuge,hoping to buy time until the situationnormalised.

I arrived at Nyarubuye Church on the 13th ofApril. I tried to find out what was going on.

Many refugees, mostly Tutsis but also someHutus, had gathered. Many of the newerrefugees arrived with machete woundsspeaking of carnage. I returned home tobring my wife and children to the church andfound that they had heard shooting and hadalready fled there. I returned, full of anxiety,but could not find them anywhere. The placewas packed full of people crying, hungry,desperate and confused. I searched until itwas too dark to find anyone. I heard storiesthat the massacres were intensifying, thatmass slaughter and carnage was a reality.

On the 14th of April, the interahamwe beganto arrive in large numbers from across thecommunes. We could see them preparing toattack the church, homes burning behindthem. We decided to arm ourselves withstones and clubs. We marched towards theinterahamwe, with a view to provide a line ofdefence to try to protect the women andchildren. Tutsis and Hutus were united intrying to stop the interahamwe from reachingthe church.

At a market called Nyarutunga, our defencecaptured two interahamwe who were leadingthe attack. Some men, whom we had leftbehind, called for reinforcements andassistance from the police and gendarmerie.When they arrived, supposedly to protect us,they separated Tutsis from Hutus.

They ordered the Hutus who had joined withus in our defence to kill the Tutsis. Then theystarted shooting in all directions, killing and

THE TESTIMONY OFFERIDINA

3736

THE TESTIMONY OF FERIDINATHE TESTIMONY OF FERIDINA

Being involved in the 'Remember Rwanda'campaign has been an honour and aprivilege. At one point I was helping to editthese testimonies, I must have read at least50, each story full of unspeakable horrors.These women, men and children had beenthrough so much, one wonders how theymove on from their harrowing past; but theydo, because these survivors personify thestrength, courage and resilience that ishuman spirit. They are examples to us all,and lessons.

As I worked my way through the dozens oftestimonies I consciously kept my anger,that this was allowed to happen, alive. Inever wanted to become desensitized tomass cruelty, to mass horror, to genocide.So even now as I write this quote, my heartgoes out to every innocent human beingwho bears the scar of this atrocity. Maytheir wounds heal. May they repair theirlives and be happy. May we all advance toa future of oneness and awareness so thatthis may never ever happen again. But untilwe are there, may we never forget.

Josie D’ArbyActor

My family managed to escape into thebackyard of the church. With other refugees,we closed the door to the yard and pushed itto stop the interahamwe and soldiers gettingto us. But the shooting continued, and soongrenades were being thrown over the wall ofthe courtyard. I was lucky to be near thedoor: the grenades missed me.

With my family I managed to escape to thepriests’ houses. I knew this place very well. Iprayed here always, and I knew the prieststoo. The priests tried to console us andasked us to pray. My family was sitting downin a corner of the house. The shootingcontinued non-stop around us. The bulletswere too much to bear. I tried to climb thefence fearing that we would eventually beovercome by interahamwe who were nowharassing the priests to hand us over tothem.

Unfortunately the interahamwe spotted us. Isaw them coming and ran to hide amongstthe dead bodies. There were many bodiesso I pushed my weight under them. But mywife and children were caught.

Before they killed my wife, they raped her. Isaw it all. They gang-raped her. I managedto see five men, after which I could not see.My senses failed me. I fell unconscious. Myyoungest child, whom she was breastfeeding,was torn from her and smashed against awall and died straight away. My other childrubbed his fingers begging for mercy andpardon, as if he had done something wrong.A group of interahamwe hacked him to pieceswith machetes. He too died.

After they had raped my wife, they begandebating who should take her home for awife. They decided that all should have apiece of her. One man cut her arm off, andone the other. They tore her to shreds sothat no-one could have her.

Every day, many women and girls wereraped. Some were spared as future wives,but many were killed after the sexual ordeal.No-one would say anything. It was time todie. Families could only watch helplessly astheir loved ones cried out for mercy or help.

I watched all this happen. It's a miracle Isurvived. Each night the shooting usuallystopped when the interahamwe returnedhome. I would emerge from under the deadbodies to see if there were any survivors.Apart from my immediate family, all myrelatives had sought sanctuary in the church;

I was aware of the facts but shamefully notthe detail. As a journalist, the term'Rwandan genocide' was more than familiarbut how much did I actually know about thepeople who lived it and survived it? Notenough, which is why I decided to take partin the Reading of the Testimonies. Ofcourse it was an honour to be asked and itwasn't something I was likely to say no to,but the day has changed my outlook.Reading the words, meeting the survivorsand organisers has opened my eyes –everyone's eyes must be opened.

Amanda WalkerJournalist

over 200 of them. They were all killed, oneby one. I thought, well, they have killed allmy family, why am I still alive?

Days passed by. Interahamwe would findpeople to kill, but here I was still alive. Thebodies were beginning to decompose and thesmell was unbearable. Interahamwe couldnot bear it any longer and they stoppedcoming back to the church. I stayed with ahandful of survivors, living among thethousands of dead bodies. So many peoplehad been killed.

I was able to identify the bodies of all myrelatives. I became hysterical. The grief wastoo much to bear. I wanted to die, to stop thepain. I left the church courtyard and venturedout hoping that I would be lucky enough tofind someone to kill me.

I wandered from one roadblock to anotherasking people to kill me, but they refused.Hutu refugees had begun to flee to Tanzaniain large numbers, apparently escaping theRPF soldiers who had arrived in Kibungoaround the 22nd of April. I was rescued byRPF soldiers.

3938

I was carrying my baby on my back. On theway, I passed one of our neighbours, PapaLouis. I asked Papa to look after my baby,but he was seriously injured and could notmanage it. So we continued, my baby still onmy back. We finally arrived at the compoundnext to home, when the men immediatelystruck me with whatever they had to hand:machetes, axes, clubs, sticks, swords andspears. I knew that I was going to die andprayed, asking God to forgive me all my sins.

BereavedThen I heard a voice saying: "This baby whois shouting must be silenced." They hit himjust once and he died immediately. Afterkilling him and leaving me for dead, theyclosed the gate of the compound and went tofind other people to kill.

I could hear people crying out in agony,calling for help until one by one they breathedtheir last breaths. I was badly injured and

covered in my own blood, blood from mybaby and blood from other people. I didn'tknow whether I was alive or dead. I took mybaby off my back, made a small bed with theclothing I was carrying him in, and put him tolie near his father. I covered him and felt hewas safe with his father.

It was then that I realised I was not dead. Iwas the only person in the compound stillmoving; everyone else was silent becausethey had died.

I managed to escape from the compound, butdid not know whether I should go home.People saw me staggering around, and it wasa miracle that no-one shouted at me. I wascovered with blood and my head had beensmashed open. I was numb and could notfeel any pain. Then I saw a lady staring atme. I asked her if she could take me to herhouse. She was my neighbour and wife ofone of the men who had tried to kill me in thecompound. She shouted to her husband tocome and finish me off. The husband cameand said: "She is going to die very soon; I willnot waste my energy on her." He left me.

HiddenI continued walking aimlessly and saw a boy.I asked him to hide me at his house. He toldme he couldn't let me in because there werekillers waiting at the gate. He said he wouldmonitor the situation and come back for me inthe evening. He eventually returned, andsmuggled me into the compound where Ifound many people hidden there. When theysaw me, they were afraid. I too was shockedto see them and fainted. When his fathercame, he thought I was dead, and put me ina small house where they kept turkeys. Theother people who were hiding there wereafraid and went to find somewhere else tohide.

The minute I received the e-mail about theSurvivors Fund Reading of Testimonies inTrafalgar Square I decided to sign up.(Later on it dawned on me that I had agreedto read in front of an audience). I didn'trealise the scale of the day but I just thoughtit was a way to make a small contribution.At the time of the genocide I was milesaway, mentally and physically. I waschasing a two-year-old and expecting asecond baby, and I was living in Budapest.

Everyone failed Rwanda and Rwandans atthe time of the genocide but I can make adifference by keeping the survivors' plight –past and present – in the hearts and mindsof people today.

Michele BeityArt Consultant

THE TESTIMONY OFGAUDENCE

M y name is Gaudence. I am asurvivor of the Rwandangenocide. This is my testimony.

In 1994 I was married with a baby. We wereliving in Muhima near the Kabuga businessbuilding.

It was on 7th of April 1994 at 5.30 in themorning that we first heard PresidentHabyarimana was dead. My husband wasterrified, saying that he knew the Tutsis wouldnot survive. He went to hide at aneighbour’s, but I stayed at home. Myhusband was right. That morning the worstthings happened. People were herded into abeautiful new big compound near our houseto be killed. We could see the killingsthrough the windows of our house. Menarmed with machetes, sticks and pangas hitpeople until they fell down dead. I began topack things in a suitcase in order to flee thatevening. I bathed my baby and dressed him.

WidowedA directive was issued, telling all men to joina neighbourhood security watch. Myhusband went but before leaving he told me:"I am going, but I am not sure I will becoming back." Indeed, it was not long untilthe men, including my husband, wereattacked and killed.

I was frightened to stay at home alone, so Ivisited a neighbour. She told me someonehad just been killed: it was my husband.Before I could hear the details, a group of

more than 30 men came into the houseasking: "Where is Alphonse's wife?"

"Here I am," I said.

"Take us first to your house and give usmoney," said one of them.

"There is no money at home," I answered.They told me to go with them.

I am 34. I am a widow, a single mother oftwo, positive, brave and vulnerable. Sincemy beloved husband died suddenly lastyear I have begun the open-ended task ofrebuilding my shattered life; redefining myrelationships with the world and all thosearound me.

Still existing somewhere between theextremes of shock and calm, fatefulacceptance, I feel a profound and humbleconnection with the Rwandan survivors.Though positive about my new future, I alsorealise that in one year, two years, tenyears, that pain, loss and grief doesn't goaway. One survives another year only toemotionally endure the next, and the next,and the next. My heart truly goes out tothose who lost their loved ones in theRwandan genocide, and applauds the workof SURF for actively working to create abrighter future for those left behind.

Imogen Harvey LeeStained Glass Maker

4140

boots and gloves and pulled me outside.They did not lift me up but instead draggedme on the ground like a dead animal. Theythen cleaned the room. While outside, itrained. It was good for me because I finallyhad water to drink, although it was painfulbecause I could not move my arms and hadto drink like an animal.

When they had finished cleaning the room,they pulled me back in again. But after sometime the maggots came back. The workerscleaned the room again and this time shavedmy hair with a new razor blade. Theydiscovered that my head was covered inwounds, which they disinfected. They tried tofeed me porridge, saying: "Tutsis are special.They die and come back again to life. But letus see what will happen to this person." Aftertreatment I would try to sit up, but my rightside was completely paralysed. It was as if Ihad no right arm, no right leg and no rightside. People, especially children, wouldcome and watch me through the glass in thedoor. They had never seen anything thatlooked like me locked up in a room.

I was very thirsty and whenever I heardsomebody passing I shouted for water. Butthis cry was in vain, as no-one helped. ThenI heard the sound of many boots, so Ishouted loudly: "You people!" A worker cameand told me to be quiet because it wassoldiers looking for Tutsis to kill. If they heardme, they would shoot me. But I kept shoutingand some soldiers finally arrived. They sawme, a dead body who could not even move.They asked me how I was doing. "I havebeen locked up in this room and no-one letsme out," I said. They ordered the workers toopen the room.

PityWhen the soldiers saw me they took pity."When did this lady come here?" asked the

soldiers. "On April 8," replied the worker."What does she eat?" they asked. I shoutedthat they had refused to give me water. Itried to crawl to them, begging them to kill mebut the soldiers pushed me back into theroom and angrily ordered the workers to findme some food. They said that if I died theywould be in trouble.

The worker brought water in a small five-litrejerry can and I drank it as if I had stolen it,fearing that they would stop me drinking.They gave me food once a day but becausemy arms were not functioning I could only eatwith my mouth like an animal. After nearlytwo weeks I was able to sit up, despite myinjuries. The workers said this meant that Iwould not die. They stopped giving me foodand water. I decided to try to escape.

As I could not walk, I had to crawl. I movedslowly along the ground, like a reptile, andfinally arrived at a road. I crossed it, comingto a place where aubergines were planted.When I saw children passing, I asked them togive me some aubergines to eat. I continuedcrawling. When I arrived at the main road,people came to see me because I wassomething interesting to watch. Even theinterahamwe came to look at me, but no-onewould kill me because no-one kills a deadperson.

A soldier approached me, saying: "This thingis making our town dirty. Let me kill andremove this dirt." He took his gun and loadedit. As he was about to fire, his colleaguecame running up to him, grabbing his armsaying: "Can't you find people to kill? Is thissomeone to kill? Do you want to put this oneon the list of those you killed?" They left me.After that, it rained heavily and I was leftalone. When the rain stopped peoplereturned and took me back to the hospital. Itwas difficult to carry me. When the workers

THE TESTIMONY OF GAUDENCETHE TESTIMONY OF GAUDENCE

I could hear the family debating whether Iwas dead but I couldn't move, let alonespeak. They forced tea down my throat, andI swallowed a little. They kept giving me teaand on the following day I fully regainedconsciousness. Then they told me that theywere planning to leave and so had to findanother place for me. I was too weak to goanywhere. Their grandmother had a housenearby, behind the compound. The nextevening they broke down the fence betweenthe houses and carried me there.

When the grandmother saw me, she wasafraid because she said I looked like ananimal. I told her I had been asked to cometo her and hide because I was too weak to goanywhere else. She was poor and there wasno light in her house but she took pieces ofwood and made a fire. Then she cleaned me,gave me some of her clothes, and dressedthe wound on my head with a piece of clothwhere my brain was exposed. But when shegave me food, I could not lift my arm to eat.She saw milk coming out of my breast, andasked me if I was pregnant or had a baby. Isaid: "I left my baby with his father, but theywere both killed." She was very sad.

RefugeIn the morning she washed my clothes, whichwere covered with blood, and then tried totake me to a hospital for medicine. But therewere roadblocks everywhere and many Tutsiswere being killed. People were crying inpain, while others were singing and dancingevery time a Tutsi fell and died. The old ladywaited until evening and asked a soldier whowas their neighbour to take me to thehospital. He came with his car and took mein with the old lady and two of her grandsons.The old woman stuffed clothes under myjumper to pretend I was pregnant and inlabour. As we reached each roadblock, thesoldier explained he was taking his pregnant

wife who was about to give birth. We arrivedat the hospital where I was admitted and mywounds treated. My rescuers left me there,promising to come back to visit me.

Many people had taken refuge at the hospital.But some time later, interahamwe arrived tocarry on the killing. Many people managed toescape, including most of the in-patients. ButI couldn't move. I felt as though I had diedagain. I cannot say that I was sleeping; itwas as if I were dead. After some days – Idon't know how long I lay in the valley ofdeath – one of the hospital workersrecognised me whilst checking up on thepeople left. He informed my husband'srelatives, but they didn't come to my rescue.Nor did the hospital worker.

I lost count of the days I was left there. I hadinjuries all over and soon there were maggotseating my wounds on my head, on my face,on my body. I was covered in maggots andsmelt so bad. It was during that time Ilearned the difference between body andspirit. The body was completely dead but myspirit was still alive inside the rotten body.

Then I began to reflect. "I thought I was stillalive, but I realise I am dead. Is this how alldead people are? Do they see their bodies?”A miracle had happened to me because I hadnot eaten for days; I learnt that one can livewithout eating. I prayed to God to lift myspirit out of my maggot-ridden body. I don'tknow how, but most of the maggotsdisappeared, except in my head and on myright hip where the wounds were excessivelydeep and open. Other hospital workers cameto watch me die, refusing to treat me. Theycould see my eyes were open, looking at them.

ParalysedMaggots made a trail from my body to thedoor. The hospital workers put on rubber

4342

The lady had not told her husband that I wasthere, but she thought that now she should.Her husband took pity on me but was afraidthat the interahamwe would find me and killthem all. He told his wife that she had to findanother hiding place for me. She told me butsaid that she would continue to take care ofme. She took me to a neighbouring house,recently abandoned. She continued to feed meand help in every way she did before. I beganthe long road to recovery, and in time couldeven make it to the outside toilet on my own.

The RPF soon made it to our regions, but wedid not know. Then one day, there was amassive noise of gunshots. The next day, Iwaited for people to bring me food butnobody came. After a long time a child cameand told me that her mother had sent her.She ran off before I could follow her outsideto see where she went. I decided to go to thefamily's house but it was shut up. Even thecurtains were drawn. Nobody was there, noteven a bird. I saw many bullet holes. Iprayed and asked God where I should go. Atthat moment I saw an RPF soldier. Heshouted to me to join a group of people downthe hill where I could receive treatment.

Miraculously, among the soldiers treating methere was one I had previously met atKibogora when I was doing a survey forONAPO. I recognised him and he recognisedme. He gave me powder to make drinks, andthey gave me food.

TreatmentA short time later, I became very sick. I wastaken to Kigali Central Hospital, vomiting andsuffering terribly. They took me to intensivecare and I nearly died again. I fell into acoma and was in intensive care for twoweeks. They were expecting me to die, but Iclung on to life.

THE TESTIMONY OF GAUDENCETHE TESTIMONY OF GAUDENCE

They moved me to another ward where Iremained in a coma for months. No-one cancount the number of serums that wereinjected in me. Sometimes, the nursescovered me, believing that I was dead, thenrealising that I wasn't. I remained like thatfor months and months; not alive, but notdead. Many doctors assessed that my headinjuries were too serious to operate on.

After a long time I regained consciousness.But I could not recognise people or objects. Icould hear but could not speak norunderstand what I was hearing. Slowly Ibegan to communicate with people usinggestures. Someone asked a doctor who Iwas and he said that I was Gaudence. Iused gestures to ask the meaning ofGaudence and the doctor told me that it wasmy name. I was amazed to learn that I hadone. He began to teach me to say my name.

I had forgotten how to read and write. I couldnot recognise anyone, not even my mother ormy friends. Today I still cannot read andwrite, but I plan to learn again. I can readand write Gaudence, and hope to build onthis start.

Today, I am still suffering because mytreatment hasn't healed me completely. Thedoctors recommend surgery abroad, but theGovernment Fund for Rwanda cannot affordto pay for me. I pray to be healed. Maybeone day someone will help me.

Gaudence was sponsored in 2004 to go toSouth Africa for surgery, after recordingher testimony. She is now able to readand write. She has made a tremendousrecovery and is now hopeful for the future.

saw me, they insulted me because theyhadn't given me authorisation to dischargemyself. They tried forcing me back into myold room, but I didn't want to lie there. Iwanted them to kill me and end my misery,but they couldn't.

RecognisedI crawled back to the main road, hoping tomeet angry interahamwe who would kill me.Some ladies saw me and took pity on me andtold me where I was. I saw many Red Crosscars passing, and hoped one might stop.One did, but when they saw me they almostvomited and drove off.

From morning to evening I waited by theroad, cars passing but not one stopping.Then, late in the evening some policemenpassed. One hit me with his gun. I lookedhim in the eye and recognised him becausehe knew my father, Bakundukize Jacques,and used to come to our house. When he hitme a second time, I asked him why he wasbeating me. He became afraid and left me.

I crawled across the road to a house where alady recognised me. She took pity on meand gave me a sweet potato. Then she tookme into her kitchen and made a fire for me. Islept by the ashes and had a nice sleep.

Her husband returned home early in themorning and told me to leave because hedidn't want anyone to see me in the house. Ileft through their back door onto a gravelpath. The stones entered my wounds and itwas agony. When I reached the road, I wascovered in blood. People saw me andrecognised me from the hospital. Theywondered how I had managed to get there. Agood man took pity and along with his wifecleaned my wounds and took me to a valleynearby and left me out in the sun. I was likean exhibition, and people came to see me

exclaiming: "That woman who was at thehospital is now in the valley!"

SparedLater on, the interahamwe came and the goodman told them to spare me. In the evening alittle girl came and told me her mother saidthat if I went to their house they would give mefood. They lived up the hill, but I could notclimb as I could not walk and my whole bodywas covered with wounds. I tried to crawlinstead but it was impossible. I asked peoplepassing by to carry me, but they refused. Asoldier with Bible in hand passed by, and Iasked him, but he said he couldn't helpbecause other soldiers would kill him if theysaw him. But he did give me 200 francs togive to the children to go and buy me a drink.He left me, and other soldiers asked me whatwe were talking about. I was surprised whenthey agreed to help him carry me. They werefrightened to be seen so they left me near thehouse. I called the woman's children and toldthem to tell their mother I had made it.

She sent her daughters to carry me. Themother prepared warm water and washedme, helping to clean off the maggots. Shegave me clothes and laid out a mattress inthe small house behind hers. They began tocare for me. They brought me food, and aftereating I slept.

RescueMy time there was hard, as the Tutsis stillalive were being aggressively hunted down.The woman's husband was a Hutu, but shewas a Tutsi. She could not leave the house.The interahamwe would search local houseseach day to try to find Tutsis in hiding. Forsome time on, they did not come to the smallhouse, until one day I awoke to see themopening the door and entering my room. Iwas concealed and though they lookedeverywhere they did not find me.

4544

someone to kill me to save me from theagony of a slow death.

He said he wouldn't be able to hide mebecause if he was seen carrying me, theinterahamwe would kill us both. So he left tofind other people to help him take me to SaintFamille Church. After a while he returnedwith another man. They asked me to tie arope around my chest. When I tried to dothis I realised I had lost my arm. When theman asked what was happening, he told meto check that my legs hadn't been injured.That was when I felt a gaping hole in my rightleg.

The man comforted me, saying not to worry;that if my chest wasn't hurt, they'd be able toget me out. But then, when I felt my chest,there was a big gash between my breasts. Itold the man my chest was hurt. He told meto put the rope around my waist, and to holdon to the edges of the pit to try and find thesteps, which the men who'd dug the pit hadused to get in and out. He kept encouragingme to keep feeling my way around the pitwith my injured hand. By shining his torch inthe pit, he was able to guide me to the steps.

Then the man carefully began to pull me up,telling me that both men would pick me upwith their hands once I reached near thesurface. But I was full of fear and anxiety,because I thought they might want to kill me.In my panic I kept falling back into the hole.This went on for nearly thirty minutes as Ikept falling back in again and again.

Eventually the men devised a plan to doublethe rope under my chest, then tying it to mygood arm. In this way they were able to pullme out of the pit. They then took me to aministry building near Muhima, where theyleft me to try to find something to tie myshattered arm and bandage my chest.

On their return, they took me to Saint FamilleChurch from where the Red Cross weretaking those seriously injured like me to KingFaisal Hospital. From here I was taken toByumba where my arm – by now rotten andcovered in maggots – was amputated.

As soon as they'd treated my injuries I startedfeeling better. Then the RPF took over and Iknew the worst was over.

I look back on the horrific ordeal theinterahamwe put us through: how they rapedus, tortured us with the most malicious pain,beat us and stripped our clothes off in public– in broad daylight. So many bad thingswere done to us. But for me, the worst was

I'm a mother of two children and I live inLondon. I've come to take part in theReading of the Testimonies because I thinkit's shameful that the female survivors of theRwandan genocide who are HIV positivehaven't got access to free antiretroviraldrugs. These women have already vieweduntold horrors – seeing their familiesmassacred only to be raped by the menwho perpetrated these horrors.

Our governments stood by and allowed thegenocide to happen. The least we can do isto provide a lifeline to the women we letdown. The cost, in Western terms, is solittle. The benefit to a whole generation ofyoungsters in Rwanda would be so great:they would have their mothers around.

Helen BaxendaleActress

THE TESTIMONY OFCLARE

M y name is Clare. I am a survivorof the Rwandan genocide. This ismy testimony.

I was born in Kibuye, Gitesi. I was married toLeonel. Both he and my two children werekilled in the genocide. Only my brother and Isurvived. I am now 30 years old.

At the time, we were living in Muhima wheremy husband was a technician for RadioRwanda and I was a trader. When thegenocide began my daughter was awayworking in Kibungo. We waited for her tocome home, but we ourselves were indanger. I found out later that my daughterhad been killed at her grandfather's home.

On the 11th of April, the killings began. I wastaken captive, and experienced all forms oftorture. I was beaten and hit badly. I wasforced to drink blood from dead and injuredpeople.

On the 3rd of May, with my son, theinterahamwe took us to a pit by a roadside tobe killed. We were pushed in alive. Then agrenade was thrown in. I lost consciousness.

After a while I came to. It felt like I was in adream, but then I was sure I heard someonepassing by. I called out for help. Someoneanswered, whispering to me to stop calling.He said if the killers heard me they were sureto come back to finish me off.

He told me to keep silent and promised he

would return when darkness came to rescueme, if I was still alive. I lay as still as I could. Ihad no idea what day or what time it was; orhow long I'd been in the pit.

I hope that reading these testimonies will gosome way towards letting the survivorsknow that they won't be forgotten in ourhearts.

Gayathoi ChidambiPsychologist

After some time I began to feel my senses,and memory, return. I remembered who Iwas. I felt alive. I remembered being takento the pit, what the killers said at the pit. Andthen I remembered my son. But when Ireached out to touch him, I could only feel hissmashed skull.

Surely he couldn't be dead. I kept thinkingperhaps the body next to me wasn't him.After all there were lots of bodies in the pit.That evening, as light began to fail, the manI'd talked to returned. He called out to see if Iwas still alive. I told him I was.

He asked whether I knew where I wasinjured. I told him I wasn't sure, but Ibelieved that if I tried to stand up I wouldn'tbe able to. He told me to check my legs, aswithout them he wouldn't be able to get meout. If I couldn't move, he said he could find

46

THE TESTIMONY OF CLARE

the way they made me drink the blood of thesoldiers, saying it was my fault, that they hadbeen injured by my relatives.

The worst torture was the rape. The killerscame 10 to 15 men at a time, each takingturns. You'd lose count of how many rapedyou. But I recognise six of the rapists whostill live here in this community.

The legacy of the rape will remain with usforever, because we're now HIV positive anddying from AIDS. Slowly, I am beginning toobserve my body disintegrate. It becameobvious that we must have been infectedwhen we saw those who raped us dying fromAIDS. All forms of infection are an everydayordeal, a potential death threat.

Once I had a family. Today, I live alone. Ihave no children; no husband. Now justliving is a challenge. If only I had a home togo back to. But I am typical of so manywomen survivors who are sole survivors,

I am 28 years old and live in South London.I was horrified to learn of the atrocitiessuffered by the women of Rwanda in the1994 conflict. It's hard to believe that in thisday and age these women are still sufferingwhen there is so much that can be done toimprove their lives.

Sally McEwanInterior Stylist

whose homes were also destroyed. Life for me is hard. I am disabled. I can't doanything and I don't have the means to doanything. I depend on charity andorganisations such as AVEGA to help memeet basic needs, and access medicalsupport, food and clothing. AVEGA has even

managed to build homes for widows. AVEGA helps me and others living withHIV/AIDS. We ask a lot from them, but theyare patient with us and they help providedrugs for us to stave off and fightopportunistic infections.

I wish a sponsor might hear our story andhelp galvanise support to help AVEGA, whichis our only hope to have a chance of life.

My dream is to have a home of my own. Idon't have a house, but rent accommodation.But I worry about keeping up the rent. If awell-wisher were to build me a home, I wouldbe very lucky.

As we raced to produce this book of

testimonies, those involved with the

project were shattered to learn that

Clare died prior to the publication of

her testimony in print. While we are

saddened by the loss, we can take

some solace knowing that at least

Clare’s story lives on. For others, it

may not. Clare’s passing has been a

brutal reminder of how we must race

against time so as to document the

tragedies inflicted upon the survivors

of the Rwandan genocide. We must

document the lives of all ‘Clares’ so

that the world does not forget them.

4948

sister, always worrying. It was to be the lasttime I ever heard from him. He was amongthe first people killed in the genocide. I learntof his death from refugees who were fleeingthe country.

As soon as I could, I flew to Rwanda; what Isaw and heard then I will never forget. I sawbodies floating down the Kagera River toLake Victoria in Uganda. I heard stories fromsurvivors that had managed to escape thatmade my emotions freeze.

Everywhere I went smelt of death. Bodieswere literally piled up as they were removedfrom mass graves. I remained numb all thistime, but could not cry. God and thesurvivors: only they know how horrendous itmust have been to be in Rwanda over those100 days.

In previous conflicts my family had alwaysfound sanctuary in my grandfather's village.This time was no different. But by then, fourweeks into the massacres, many people weretelling of horrific death in the capital. Foreignnationals were being airlifted from Rwanda.In rural areas, such as my grandfather'svillage, people thought the massacres wouldnot spill over, believing that only thoseinvolved in politics and business were beingsought. No-one anticipated the massacresthat followed. It was literally unimaginablethen to believe the scale and scope of thekillings.

Together with other locals, members of myfamily congregated in the local school. Theywere told to wait for the local mayor toaddress them about their security. But theywere soon herded into a classroom, wherethey were locked up until the interahamwe(literally: "those who attack together") weretrucked in, all armed with machetes.

My niece was one of the few to survive themassacre, and told me exactly what hadhappened and who was there. In all, 50members of my family were slaughtered incold blood in 1994.

SurvivorsAfter tending to the dead, I then turned myattention to those who survived. Manysurvivors thought it a miracle that they hadescaped with their lives. Speaking with them,the full impact and implications of thegenocide slowly started to sink in. Everystory I heard added a new chapter to myunderstanding of what happened, as I beganto absorb the pain of the survivors and betterunderstand what they had been through andfelt.

During my time in Rwanda I met manywomen who told me confidentially how theyhad been raped and deliberately infected withHIV during the genocide. They were notalone, as thousands of women were putthrough the same dehumanising anddegrading experience – many in front of theirown families, who were then killed whilst theywere allowed to live, being told by theirrapists: "You alone are being allowed to live,only so that you will die of sadness." Many ofthese women are now dying from AIDS-related illness.

Despite having survived the ordeal, many, noteven knowing how many times or by howmany men they had been raped, were stillable to come to terms with their experiencesand somehow, incredibly, get on with theirlives. As time has passed, I fully understandand live their pain. But as I listened to theirstories then, all I could feel was helplessnessand guilt for having survived and not sufferedlike them.

MARY’S STORY

Stories they do tell

I consider it an honour and a privilege towork on behalf of, and represent,survivors of the Rwandan genocide. I

am not the most patient and attentiveindividual, however working with survivorshas disciplined me. Above all, it has taughtme how to listen. At the same time I havelearnt more about myself through findingways to relieve the distress of others.

To be honest, sometimes I do not knowwhether I am lucky or unlucky that survivorstrust me enough to feel able to tell me theirstories. Many stories still remain unspokenand untold. It is one of the reasons that I setup the Survivors Fund: to give a voice tosurvivors; more importantly, to honour thosewho were killed in cold blood. Why is itimportant to tell the story?

Disclosure is a personal burdenMy personal experiences have prepared meto dedicate my life to survivors of genocideand to help them speak out. My parentsprotected me from the pain of sharing theirhorrific experiences as they had fled Rwandaduring the 1959 revolution, a revolution thatforeshadowed the genocide that was to come35 years later. My maternal grandparents, aswell as other relatives, lost their lives in thismassacre. Many people, however, have nocomprehension of this history. One cannotunderstand the genocide of 1994 withoutcharting the extent of the persecution of Tutsiswhich preceded the horrific 100 hundred daysin which one million Rwandans lost their lives.

My paternal grandfather had remained inRwanda during the 1959 revolution, but hecame to Burundi for my father's funeral. Onhis return he took with him my youngestbrother and sister. We were to remainseparated for years. I was so young that Ican barely remember the separation, andcannot recall my mother speaking about itmuch. I can only imagine now that this musthave been her way of dealing with the tragicsituation, a way of coping that I was to seeagain and again later in life.

Before meeting my mother, my stepfather hadspent seven years in a Rwandan prison. Mymother had witnessed first-hand death anddestruction. Neither had any help or support,except through each other, to be able to dealwith this trauma. It still amazes me thatdespite everything they had been through,they never shouted or argued, and at least tome, never allowed their despair to show orhate to rear its ugly head.

Having worked with survivors, I now knowhow this is possible. The denial,helplessness, guilt and despair were forcedinto the shadows in order to focus on theimmediate needs of providing food andshelter for the family. They literally had notime to think of their loss and grief.

GenocideI spoke to my brother, Jean Baptist, on thephone just two weeks before the killingsstarted. I told him to leave the country but hejust laughed and said that I was such a big

5150

That is why I set up the Survivors Fund: tohelp me to help the survivors of the Rwandangenocide. It became a relief, because finallyI could do something to help my people,because sadly, the genocide did not stopwhen the killing ended. It continues today.

This book is a vital part of the work of theSurvivors Fund. It ensures that thetestimonies of the survivors are recorded forposterity, ever more pressing as we losemore and more survivors to HIV/AIDS. Wehope that this will be the first of a series, tobe used as an educational tool in the UK andcountries worldwide to inform and educatemore people about the experiences andplights of survivors of the Rwandan genocide.Just as importantly, we hope that it will

provide support to survivors, to show thatthey are not alone and, in time, to encouragethem to speak out as well.

We all have a responsibility to act to stophuman suffering. Survivors Fund has taughtme that all of us must play our part and makeour voices heard too, because only byworking together can we make a realdifference.

Mary Kayitesi BlewittFounder and DirectorSurvivors Fund (SURF)

MARY’S STORYMARY’S STORY

Many trusted me with the only possessionthey had after losing their entire families: theirmemories. It was like opening Pandora'sBox. In thousands, they told theirexperiences to me. Every day I would sitthrough testimonies of despair. I soon beganto experience a physical, as well as mental,numbness from sharing their pain. I wouldliterally block my mind and focus on how tohelp and ameliorate those who were pouringout their feelings and stories to me, whilst atthe same time seemingly listening.

Many told me that they felt safe and able tospeak to me exactly because I listened tothem. But they had no idea: I was in my ownfantasy world, thinking of how to fix… fix...fix… something. How to turn the clock back,so that I could tell them it was all a dream.But it wasn't a dream. These were reallypeople. This was real life. It was fact.

So there I was. I listened and, as each nightfell, I cried myself to sleep. I cried for myfamily. I cried for the survivors; for the paintheir families went through before they died. Icried for all the dead who didn't see anotherday to tell their stories. I cried for me, andthe trust placed in me to help all those whowitnessed the worst nightmare of their lives.But every night, I emptied my mind to makespace in my head for more stories the nextday.

Revisiting memories, thus experiencing againwhat they had been through, was a bigchallenge for some, especially children.Many instead preferred the solitude ofsilence, to protect themselves from the fear of

being listened to – and of listening tothemselves.

Sometimes I wanted to ask them about theirstories, but I feared the description of thesights, smells and sounds of humandestruction that they were forced to witness;nevermind the descriptions of the deaths oftheir family and friends. I suppose I wantedto live their lives, to remember their pain anddraw energy from it so that it would enableme to make sure that they and their storiesare never forgotten.

Survivors FundThe time I spent with survivors inspired me tothink about what more I could do to help. Iwanted desperately to do somethingconstructive, to channel my anger andnegative energy positively. Survivors wereready to share their memories with me,memories of their loved ones. They trustedme, with no guarantee that I would make theirlives better. They had only one thing theyasked of me: "Please don't let the world everforget what happened to us."

Each survivor would tell me the same thingthat I too felt: that they had survived only toserve as witnesses, for the world to drawlessons from their experiences and to try toensure that this should never happen toanyone in the world again. I felt a call tosupport survivors, to use their pain to educateothers about the suffering that should, andcould, have been so easily prevented. Onlyby doing so would I be able to make sense ofmy life.

5352

AFTERWORD:LETTERS OF THANKSFROM SURVIVORS

Kigali 24/05/2005

SURF – RwandaNational Coordinator

Re: Thank You

I am delighted to get an opportunity firstly to pass on my heartfelt greetings and my bestwishes.

Secondly, to thank you for the support you have given me, and the continued commitmentyou have shown to the survivors of the Rwandan genocide. You have enabled me to rebuildmy life after genocide, especially a home you built for me in Gitarama village; you havehelped me to bury my dead relatives who perished in the genocide with dignity, not tomention helping us to look after our siblings; and your support to Solace Ministries. I thankyou from the bottom of my heart.

I am now back to school and my siblings are in school too, we hope that you will stay withus and help us grow into responsible adults.

I thank you again and wish SURF and Solace Ministries the best in your endeavours. Yourlove to us and dedication will remain with us forever.

May God bless you all.

Thank you,

Munyaneza Samson

This letter had the return address removed for the safety of the survivor.

5554

AFTERWORD: LETTERS OF THANKS FROM SURVIVORSAFTERWORD: LETTERS OF THANKS FROM SURVIVORS

23/05/2005

RE: Thank you to SURF for all your support

Board of Trustees,

To the Director and Governors of SURF, I am happy to be able to write to you, and to extendmy sincere gratitude for your support and to wish you the best in your everyday tasks.

In short, I can't stop thanking you for coming to my rescue when I was drowning in problemsbeyond my control. You responded and my life has been transformed both at home and atschool.

You have ensured that I don't go without food, without school – even my siblings are inschool because of your support. There is so much I can't express… you have been therefor me and I can never find the words to say thank you.

I always pray to God to protect you and to grant you the best in your work.

Uwurukundo Julienne

This letter had the return address removed for the safety of the survivor.

5756

AFTERWORD: LETTERS OF THANKS FROM SURVIVORSAFTERWORD: LETTERS OF THANKS FROM SURVIVORS

18/04/2005

To the Director of SURF,

I am writing to thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I will never forget your support, the extraordinary thing you did for me, which has become aliving testimony of your love and dedication. My head had a hole and had been shatteredby the injuries I sustained during the genocide. You helped me receive the crucial surgerywhich has transformed my life.

I had tried everywhere before; you passed the test of time... empathy and love for peoplelike me. I can only pray that the God of heavens and earth gives you everlasting blessings.

I am a living example of a second miracle, my head is healed, my senses are back and theconstant pain has long gone.

Thank you. I always have you in my prayers.

God bless you,

M. Gaudence

5958

AFTERWORD: LETTERS OF THANKS FROM SURVIVORSAFTERWORD: LETTERS OF THANKS FROM SURVIVORS

Kigali, 23/05/2005

Dear SURF,

RE: Thank you for being there

I am extremely happy to be able to write to you with thanks for enabling me to go to schooland getting out of poverty and despair.

I am an orphan: my parents were killed during the genocide and only myself and my siblingsurvived.

I want to thank you for giving me back my life. Through Solace Ministries you have enabledme to go to school, more importantly helping me to meet the basic needs. We orphanshave no-one else to help us. We have many problems, being heads of households,providing for a household with no income, job or help. With your support and SolaceMinistries’ dedication to orphans, we are slowly rebuilding our lives.

I thank you.

Nshimiyimana Felix

This letter had the return address removed for the safety of the survivor.

6160

AFTERWORD: LETTERS OF THANKS FROM SURVIVORSAFTERWORD: LETTERS OF THANKS FROM SURVIVORS

Re: Thank you SURF

I am writing to thank you for the love and understanding you show us. May God bless you.

We were very isolated, helpless beyond measure and traumatised by what we saw duringthe genocide. Losing our families when we are still young, everyday hardship and trials;overnight we had to assume a role of parenting ourselves with no experience. We thoughtour lives were destined to suffering and regret while we survived.

Thank you for being there to calm us down and reassure us. Since you came into our lives,our lives are more positive and we look forward to life. We do not go without food anymore.We are not being evicted because we cannot afford rent. When we get sick you are there tohelp. Frankly there is so much to thank you for!!!

You helped us to get out of isolation and introduced us to people with similar experiences.Together we share a journey to recovery. We are very happy; we believe that we willeventually get a home of our own.

We have nothing we can give you in return for your kindness – only God will reward you, butwe promise you to be good and responsible children.

Ariane

62

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

O ur sincere thanks go to thesurvivors who have given their lifestories with a hope that the world

will learn from their experiences and preventfurther human suffering… Valentina,Daphrosa, Aline, Feridina, Gaudence, andClare. We are truly grateful for thecooperation from our partner organisationsSolace Ministries and AVEGA, and to Mr.Gabo Wilson, Director at SURF’s Rwandaoffice. Without their help this work wouldnever have succeeded.

SURF would also like to extend a heartfeltthank-you to everyone who has supportedSURF's work over the years, especially thosewho joined together on 16th July 2004 insolidarity with the women survivors ofRwanda to give a voice to their testimonies:

Ms Claire Gammon Dr Monique Anderson MsHelen Atkins Mrs Jackie Baines Ms HelenBaxendale Ms Madeleine Beale Ms NicolettaBertoldi Ms Michele Biety Ms Mary BlewittMs Hilary Blume Miss Janice Booth Mr PaulBradley Ms Isabel Brenner Ms Jackie BrittonMr Colin Bryant Miss Deanna Buckman MsCaroline Burghard Miss Catherine CartwrightDr Gayathri Chidambi Ms TanukaChokroborty-Loha Ms Sarah Clifford MrShimon Cohen Miss Llana Conn MrsPenelope Conway Ms Polly Cook Miss JosieD'Arby Ms Michelle Dempsey Ms DebbieDjordevic Ms Suzanne Eustace Miss GiseleEwards Ms Maire Fahey Miss Shanti Faiia MsNeneh Faye Ms Felicity Ferdinado MrsFelicity Finch Ms Kerry Fox Miss MaggieFoyer Ms Janet Bainana Gasaatura Ms Clare

Gorham Ms Lola Gostelow Ms TulipHambleton Ms Imogen Harvey Lee Miss JanaHasprunaroia Mr David Harewood Ms BrookHayes Miss Cally Haynes Ms Lindsey HilsumMs Jo Hofman Mrs Lucy Howard Ms LizHowell Miss Fatin Ibrahim Ms Seeta IndraniMrs Jane Jackman Miss Sarah Jacobs LadyAmelie Jakobovits Ms Ruth Jenkinson MrDanny John-Jules Mrs April Johnson MsAmina Juma Mrs Jean Karsbergs Miss RoulinKhondoker Ms Miriam King Miss BeverleyKnight Ms Flavia Kraus Ms Marissa Lea MsSue Leifer Miss Sara Lethby Ms CaterinaLoriggio Ms Kirsty Little Mrs Thea LumleyMiss Laura Lumley Ms Uma Mahadeva MsThoko Matsha Ms Kym Mazelle Miss SallyMcEwan Miss Joanne McIntosh Ms Polly JMcLean Miss Catherine Meaden Mrs TinaMeaden Miss Hilary Merrett Miss Fay MiahMiss Eloise Millar Ms Hattie Morahan MsShirley Murgraff H.E. Rosemary MuseminaliMs Suzan Nicolai Ms Sarah Norman Ms ElleOsborne Ms Anita Parmar Rev Bonnie-BellePickard Ms Karen Pollock Ms Vicki Prais MsAlison Proud Miss Rana Refahi Miss ChantalRefahi Ms Gaby Roslin Miss FrancescaRussell Ms Emma Sandler Miss AmnaShaddad Miss Anna Sideris Ms BeatriceSmith Ms Fiona Smith Ms Rachel StevensMiss Sarah Sultoon Ms Ellen Thomas MsPolly Toynbee Ms Karen Twining Ms LynneWade Ms Amanda Walker Ms Sandy WarrMs Penny Waterhouse Ms Hannah WatermanMs Fiona Watson Dr Rush WickramasinemeMiss Dawn Marie Wilkinson Ms AlisonWintgens Ms Victoria Woodward Ms RuthWooldridge OBE Rev Lisa Wright Ms SharonWymark.

63

And a big thank-you to all those that helpedto make the event in Trafalgar Squarepossible:

Mr Simon Brodkin Mr Elliot Frankal Mr AnupKaria Mr Colin Kabiswa Miss Vikki Miller MissMahlet Mairegn Mr Chris Robinson Mr CyrusTiz Miss Hester Alban Davies Ms UmaMahadeva Ms Claudia Escobar Mrs RoseCallaghan Ms Annie Liebeck Mr MarcelHakizimana Ms Rose Umulisa Mr FrankTumwesigye Mr Richard Blewitt Ms JeanetteKagabo Mr Drew Sutton Mr Louis RudasigwaMr Joe Loriggio Ms Claire Gammon Mr EkowEssuman Ms Jane Hammond Mr ColinMathews Mr Sean Mcweeney Mr Dan HyslopMiss Sarah Galal Mr Neill Quinton Mr DavidLumley Ms Rachel Collingwood Ms AnneMcIntosh Ms Caterina Loriggio.

Much heartfelt gratitude to Fergal Keane,OBE and Lindsey Hilsum, both of whomhave been a great strength to the work ofSurvivors Fund and international advocatesfor the survivors of the Rwandan genocide.

Putting together this book would not havebeen possible without the contribution ofDavid Russell (The PR Office), AnneMcFerran, Katharine Quarmby, and MaryKayitesi Blewitt.

And a special thank-you to PriscillaElworthy and all the team at The FundingNetwork, for giving SURF a grant for thebook, without which this book would not havebeen possible.

This section would be incomplete if we didnot extend a very sincere thank you to DrewSutton and everyone at Nice Images whocollected the testimonies for this book and toSam White for taking photos of the womenreaders in Trafalgar Square.

The tireless work of SURF's designer,lbdesign, cannot be forgotten, especiallygiven the tight deadlines in which this workwas done. Thank you, Liam Dempsey.

6564

CHRONOLOGY OF THEGENOCIDE

January 1993 Signing of the protocol of the Arusha Accord on a transitional government toinclude opposition parties and the RPF. Militias continue to provoke violence andunrest throughout Rwanda.

February 1993 The RPF launches a new offensive and threatens to take Kigali. France sendsadditional troops and weapons to stop the offensive. One million people flee infront of advancing RPF troops.

March 1993 A new ceasefire is negotiated in Dar Es Salaam between the Rwandangovernment and the RPF. The RPF withdraws to the north. The UN SecurityCouncil adopts Resolution 812 authorising an intervention force in Rwanda. TheIntervention Commission of Inquiry publishes its report citing, grave human rightsviolations by the government which is described as genocide. Several donorcountries threaten Rwanda with sanctions as a result of the report.

May/June 1993 New accords signed in Arusha concerning refugee repatriation and the unificationof the armed force RPF. Emmanuel Gapyisi, leader of the MovementDémocratique Républican (MDR), is assassinated. Agathe Uwilingiyimana of theMDR is named as head of the new transitional government.

August 1993 The comprehensive vision of the Arusha Accord is signed. This include theprovision for the instalment of transitional government, including the RPF, theunification of the armies, demobilisation and arrival of UNAMIR. Beginning ofhate radio broadcast on Radio-Télévision Libre des Milles Collines (RTLM).

September 1993 The Secretary General recommends to the UN Security Council that apeacekeeping force be provided for Rwanda without delay.

October 1993 Eighteen elite US troops are killed in Somalia.The UN Security Council approves Resolution 875 which creates the UNAMIR, aforce of 2,500 soldiers from 23 countries.Candadian Brigadier-General Romeo Dallaire is appointed force commander ofUNAMIR.

Nov/Dec 1993 French troops leave Rwanda; UNAMIR troops deployed. A contingent of RPFtroops arrive in Kigali on 28 countries.Diplomats in Kigali and Dallaire receive an anonymous letter from within theRwandan army warning of a plan to kill Tutsis in order to prevent theimplementation of the Arusha Accord.

January 1994 Rwanda takes its seat as a non-permanent member of the Security Council.Adopts Resolution 893 approving deployment of a second infantry battalion to

demilitarised zone.Investiture of Habyarimana as president.Transitional government fails to take off, with each side blaming the other forblocking its formation.Human Rights Watch Arms Project publishes a report on the continued arming ofRwanda .The Belgian ambassador in Kigali, Johan Swinnen, warns of violentdemonstrations in Kigali by the interahamwe.The CIA reports that if hostilities resume in Rwanda, up to half a million peoplecould die. Dallaire informs UN headquarters there is an informer from the heart of Hutupower, who warns that a genocide against the Tutsis is planned. Dallaire tries topersuade UN headquarters that he be allowed to conduct arms seizures.

February 1994 The two well-known political leaders, Felicien Gatabazi of the Parti SocialDemocrate (PSD) and Martin Bucyana of the extremist Coalition for the Defenseof the Republic (CDR) are assassinated within days of each other. Theperpetrators are neither identified nor punished. Violence escalates in Kigali andaround the country.

March 1994 A joint communiqué is issued by Kigali diplomatic community asking foracceptance of the CDR.Boutros-Ghali writes a report to the Security Council stating that the securitysituation is deteriorating and requesting an extension of the mandate on UNAMIRfor six months.

5 April 1994 The Security Council, with Resolution 909, renews the mandate for UNAMIR witha threat to pull out in six weeks unless the Arusha Accord is applied.

6 April 1994 Returning from the summit meeting at Dar Es Salaam, the plane carrying thepresidents of Rwanda and Burundi, Juvelal S. Habyariamana and CyprienNtaryamira, is shot on approach to Kigali airport. The perpetrator remainsunknown to this day.Within moments of the crash, systematic massacres of opposition leaders of thePSD, MDR and Liberal Party (PL) begin. Military and militia road blocks go up allover Kigali.

7 April 1994 Assassination of Prime Minister Agathe Uwiniyimana and ten Belgian UNAMIRsoldiers. RPF troops in Kigali leave their garrison and engage the Presidential Guard.RTLM broadcasts that the RPF and the Belgian peacekeepers are responsible forthe death of the president.Coordinated and extensive massacres of Tutsis and political moderates arecarried out by the Rwandan Army and militia groups in Kigali and the countryside.

8 April 1994 Increasing numbers people are killed.Former parliament speaker Theodore Sindikubwabo announces the formation ofan interim government and declares himself president.

6766

9 April 1994 French and Belgian paratroopers evacuate expatriates.Interahamwe and Presidential Guard conduct massacre at Gikondo.Sindikubwabo meets Dallaire and asks him to negotiate a ceasefire with the RPF.

10 April 1994 Prisoners are put to work with refuse carts picking up bodies.Ambassador David Rawson closes the US embassy in Kigali.

11 April 1994 Dallaire obtains a ceasefire to facilitate the evacuation of expats. The Belgian peacekeepers abandon Kicukiro, leaving behind 2,000 people.

12 April 1994 RPF reinforcements reach Kigali; the battle of Kigali begins. The massacre ofTutsis continues throughout Rwanda.The interim government flees to Gitarama as the RPF moves on the capital.The Minister for Foreign Affairs of Belgium, Mr Willy Claes meets Boutros-Ghali inBonn to tell him of the Belgian withdrawing soldiers from UNAMIR.French embassy closes its doors.

14 April 1994 Belgium announces it is withdrawing its troops from UNAMIR.In Kigali wounded people are dragged from a Red Cross ambulance and killed.Killing spreads everywhere in Rwanda

18 April 1994 An attempt by the RPF to silence the RTLM fails.The interim government dismisses the Prefect of Butare.

19 April 1994 Massacres begin in Butare, which has previously been spared the worst of theviolence. The Prefect of Butare – who had opposed massacres – is arrested andkilled along with his whole family. A hard-line extremist takes his place.The last Belgian peacekeeper leaves Kigali.

21 April 1994 The Security Council votes on Resolution 912 to withdraw the bulk of theUNAMIR peacekeepers from Rwanda, authorising 270 to remain.

28 April 1994 Oxfam issues a press release that the killing in Rwanda amounts to genocide.

29 April 1994 A long Security Council debate discusses the use of the word genocide in thePresidential Statement. The UK and the USA resist the use of the word.

17 May 1994 The Security Council votes for Resolution 918, approving the deployment of5,500 troops to Rwanda but no troops are available.

22 May 1994 The RPF captures the airport in Kigali.The government forces continue to flee south in front of an RPF advance.

25 May 1994 The UN High Commission of Human Rights sends Renè Degni-Sengui toinvestigate grave violations of the international Human Rights Laws in Rwanda.

27 May 1994 UN forces evacuate the first refugees from the Mille Collines Hotel.

29 May 1994 The RPF takes Nyanza.

2 June 1994 The RPF takes Kabyayi.

8 June 1994 The RPF announces that three bishops and ten priests were killed by RPFsoldiers.

10 June 1994 Massacre of 170 refugees from Saint André Church.

Some members of the interim government leave Gitarama for Gisenyi.

11 June 1994 French alliance announces intention to intervene in Rwanda.

13 June 1994 The RPF takes Gitarama.

17 June 1994 France announces its plan to the UN Security Council to deploy troops toRwanda as an interim peacekeeping force.

21 June 1994 First French troops arrive on the Zaire-Rwanda border.

22 June 1994 The UN security forces authorize armed humanitarian intervention in Rwanda atthe request of the French.

23 June 1994 French troops arrive in Rwanda with Operation Turquoise.

28 June 1994 A report issued by the special reporter of the UN Commission on Human Rightsstates that the murder of the Tutsis in Rwanda is genocide and calls for aninternational tribunal to bring the organisers of genocide to justice.

1 July 1994 The UN Security Council votes on Resolution 935 calling for the establishment ofa commission of experts to examine evidence of "possible acts of genocide".

3 July 1994 The RPF takes Butare.

4 July 1994 Kigali is captured by RPF.

5 July 1994 France creates a "safe humanitarian zone" in the southwest of Rwanda.

6 July 1994 Canadian relief flights into Kigali are resumed.

13 July 1994 The RPF takes Ruhengeri in northern Rwanda, prompting a mass exodus ofRwandans in the direction of Goma, Zaire.

14 July 1994 An estimated 6,000 people per hour file into the French safe zone, includingmembers of the militia and interim government officials.

15 July 1994 The US government withdraws its recognition of the former government of Rwanda.

17 July 1994 The RPF takes the last government stronghold in Gisenyi and declares the end ofwar.

19 July 1994 A government of national unity is formed in Kigali with Pasteur Bizimungu asPresident and Faustin Twangiramungu as Prime Minister. Members of the MRNDand CDR are excluded from the new government. Cholera is first diagnosed among refugees in Goma.Announcement of the end of compulsory identity cards.

22 July 1994 The US government announces a massive relief operation for Rwandan refugeesin camps.

29 July 1994 France begins the withdrawal of its Operation Turquoise troops.

31 July 1994 As part of Operation Support Hope, the first contingent of the US Military arrivesin Kigali to deliver humanitarian assistance.

22 August 1994 Departure of the last Operation Turquoise French troops. Major refugeemovements towards the south of Rwanda and Bukavu, Zaire.

CHRONOLOGY OF THE GENOCIDE CHRONOLOGY OF THE GENOCIDE

68

ABOUT SURVIVORS FUND

S urvivors Fund, or SURF, is a charitydedicated to aiding and assisting thesurvivors of the Rwandan genocide.

Since 1997, SURF has been supportingmedical care for women survivors withHIV/AIDS, counselling for survivors,vocational training and home building fororphans. These are just some of the projectsthat SURF funds to help survivors rebuild asense of self and trust in humanity.Programmes are delivered through partnerorganisations, including AVEGA, SolaceMinistries and the AOCM.

Founded by Mary Kayitesi Blewitt at thebehest of survivors, after herself losing 50family members during the genocide, thecharity is supported by, amongst others: theDepartment for International Development;Comic Relief; The Elton John AIDSFoundation; The Diana, Princess of WalesMemorial Fund; the Lindean Trust; the PearsFamily Charitable Foundation; the CharitiesAdvisory Trust and The Funding Network.

Individual donations are vital to help SURFcontinue to make a vital difference to the livesof survivors in Rwanda and the UK.

To contribute, volunteer or learn more,please:

Visit: www.survivors-fund.org.ukEmail: info@survivors-fund.org.ukCall: +44 (0)20 7610 2589

Or write to:

Survivors Fund (SURF)10 Rickett StreetWest BromptonLondon SW6 1RUUnited Kingdom

Survivors Fund (SURF) is a registered UKcharity no: 1065705. Company limited byguarantee in England no: 04311565.

Survivors Fund (SURF)(t) 020 7610 2589(e) info@survivors-fund.org.uk(w) www.survivors-fund.org.uk

SURVIVALAGAINST THE ODDS

a book of

testimoniesfrom survivorsof the Rwandan genocide

" The genocide in Rwanda is being

fictionalised in films and novels

now, but nothing conveys the

terrible suffering of the victims as

powerfully as their own words.

I feel that one of the most

important things we can do is

keep on telling the stories, so

survivors know that their words

have value and meaning, and that

we will never stop caring about

them."Lindsey Hilsum

International Editor, Channel 4 NewsPatron of SURF

Often called 'the land of a thousand

hills' or 'the Switzerland of Africa',

Rwanda erupted in unspeakable

violence for 100 days in 1994 as the

interahamwe, or ‘those who kill

together’, inflicted torture, slaughter

and rape across the country.

This book documents the lives of

those who survived the genocide.

This book is their story – bravely told

so that the world would know with no

uncertainty what had happened in

Rwanda.

Survivors Fund (SURF)www.survivors-fund.org.uk

SUR VIV ALAGAINSTTHEODDS

a book of testimonies from

survivors the Rw

andan genocide