“This is part of a dark and tragic history… a time where evil operated openly and people fled without direction. The next generation must avoid anything that could lead to hatred or genocide ideology and not follow the example of what their relatives did to us in the past in the name of revenge. Instead, they should become role models in promoting and building a culture of peace.”
“I am a survivor of the genocide.
I am one of nine children, and only two of my family survived. During the genocide, I was a mother of seven, married to a Hutu. It was my husband’s relatives who took the lead in hunting me; my husband’s nephew killed my mother, brother and two of my nieces.
This is part of a dark and tragic history, a time where evil operated openly. Night felt longer than day and prayer was endless. The time was marked by suffering; injured people wandered with no one to care for them. Parents wished for infertility, mothers abandoned their children. Compassion and humanity were replaced by cruelty, as people behaved like beasts. It was a period of profound physical and emotional suffering – people fled without direction, as there was no refuge anywhere.
I was separated from loved ones, whom I was powerless to save. My parents’ home was destroyed before my eyes by our neighbours, our livestock taken, and our belongings looted. I remained at home with my husband but his brother came regularly to demand where I was, to kill me. They would say that they had already killed my brother and my sister’s children, and others. Hearing this while hiding inside the house shattered my heart. The sounds of killers shouting outside our house, blowing whistles, beating drums, and setting up roadblocks nearby left me deeply traumatised.
Because of repeated attacks, as they searched for me and the Tutsi children we had taken in to hide in our home, we were eventually forced to flee to Burundi. There we encountered perpetrators who continued to harass us, forcing us to flee again to Tanzania.
In 1997, we returned home from Tanzania, starving and swollen. We found that those who had remained and few survivors, were beginning to rebuild their lives.
Even after my husband’s death in 2005, his relatives continued to mistreat us. As a result, I was forced to leave my home and seek shelter elsewhere, far away. This caused me deep emotional pain losing the family I was born into, and then also losing the family I had married into. However, I find comfort in the fact that our country has now made the fight against all forms of division a priority.
Savings groups prioritise self-reliance, mutual care, and working together without any form of discrimination. We support one another and visit each other, and there is a strong sense of trust among us. We are also encouraged to pray. Through this, I have learned to forgive all those who wronged me.
Today, girls have access to education and are no longer excluded from any sectors, unlike in the past. As for me, I never had the opportunity to attend school, as we were told that a girl’s education was only meant to prepare her for marriage.
Everyone is committed to their own development as well as to the progress of our country. Each person’s efforts are directed toward ensuring that we never fall back into genocide again.”
Immaculée’s experience reflects the lasting impact of loss. Alongside this, a new generation is finding ways to move forward – shaped by the past and not defined by it.