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Name: Ann Marie
It was the 7th of April 1994, at 6am when the national
radio broke the news that the President of the Republic
of Rwanda had been killed in a plane crash.
All along we knew that at some point we would be killed.
With the news of the death of the president, we knew
the hour of our death had come.
My father woke us up and told us as the Head of State
had died, we were going to die too. My mother had broken
her leg and so was unable to walk properly. After an
hour we heard people singing, saying, "We should
massacre them!" We got some clothes to cover ourselves
and mother told us to go and that she would stay behind.
We begged her to come with us, but she refused. So we
left and went to hide separately in a forest that was
close to home. But being the youngest and loving my
mother, I hid near home where I would be able to see
her.
After a few minutes I saw people with headgear made
of grass and leaves carrying clubs. Among them was man
I knew. He was carrying a gun. Some entered the house
while others attacked my mother. I was watching what
was taking place. I started crying. They started ransacking
the home, hacking the cows to death and burning the
place. I then fled to a neighbour's place but he chased
me away for fear that the attackers may come looking
for me there. It was raining hard during this time,
and there were wails, moans and screams everywhere,
with homes burning. It was a scene from hell! I spent
the whole day in the bush, hidden, without food or water.
The following day, I went back to my home, only to
find it ruins. All there was left was a dog lying in
the compound and the flowerbed. When the dog saw me
it started barking. I had no choice but to run back
in the bush to hide. It came to a point where I had
no more strength left to run due to thirst, hunger and
my feet were swollen.
After some time, the killers found me because they
were using dogs to hunt down people hiding in forests
and bushes. They had with them other people whom they
had captured who included children, and one woman whose
breast had been chopped off. It was in the morning and
we were all made to sit down in a field as many more
people were brought in. These were labelled "TUTSIS".
Then they started the killing.
They started with the men. The killers began by stripping
the men of their clothes and wearing these. They were
made to sit and lean forward facing the ground. Then
using machetes, they began hacking them to death. It
was a very slow and painful death. Those who were lucky
were shot - a quick death. Others were shot with arrows,
beaten to death with clubs, while others were speared.
I was witnessing all this.
Shallow graves were prepared beforehand and using ropes,
they pulled the corpses and filled these with the dead
bodies. Once they were full, they would then throw the
bodies in toilets and the toilets sealed with concrete.
Again once the toilets were full, the remaining bodies
would be left lying there on the ground. I was kept
alive together with other women and children. We were
then taken to one of the leaders of the militias (known
as INTERAHAMWE) who would give command for the
killing to start.
In the morning, we were taken back to the field where
the killing had been carried out to be killed as well.
By then more people had been captured and among them
I found two of my cousins. They were all stripped then
the killers put on their clothes. They were made to
lie on their stomachs and were then hacked into three
parts. From that time I lost all sense of consciousness.
I knew what I had witnessed, but my mind refused to
believe it. I had no more feelings. I was just in a
nightmare that refused to go away.
From that time I witnessed more killings. People were
being thrown in toilets even before they were dead.
Babies were not spared. They too were thrown in toilets
with their eyes wide open. I came to a point where I
felt the best thing that could have happened to me was
death.
I managed to escape and it was after many days that
I was found by the liberating army, "INKOTANYI".
By then I was barely conscious, delirious and in numbing
shock. They asked me whom I was with and I told them
I was all alone. They tried to feed me but I could not
eat. I had no strength left in me to do anything.
I was taken to their barracks and I had to begin fending
for myself. But I no longer had desire to live. I was
so traumatised such that all I could think about was
the INTERAHAMWE. I was haunted that they would
come back for me.
In 1995, those who had been in school before the genocide
were suppose to go back. But I was unable to because
I had become so fearful of people and preferred to stay
on my own.
Then in 2000, a friend realised that the killers were
back and hunting down the survivors who might testify
against them. That friend got me a ticket, and I was
brought to the United Kingdom.
It is now 10 years since the genocide, but to me, it
is just like yesterday. What happened, happened within
a short time, but it was enough for the killers to carry
out genocide in which over a million people were killed.
Those who survived have nothing to look back to. We
are constantly living in the shadow of the genocide
because of its aftermath: many scarred for life physically,
mentally and psychologically, many orphans, widows,
widowers, and as if that is not enough, many of those
who survived were infected with the HIV virus through
rape. People are hurting. They are crying out for help!
Crying out for justice!
I am here to talk on behalf of all those who were never
given a chance to see another day, the young and the
old, and the babies who hardly knew how to talk but
whose short lives were snuffed out.
THE RWANDAN GENOCIDE SHOULD NEVER BE FORGOTTEN!
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