(NOTE: This installment serves as an account of my experiences and as a highlight to the tragic event of the Genocide in Rwanda. To write about the Genocide’s complete history would take too much space here. I am in no way an expert on the many facets of this event. However, I have learned a lot through interaction. There will be resources linked to this writing which you can access for more information. What you are about to read may not be easy… but please read it anyway. - Allen Paul Weaver III, New York, )

“We tend to take them for granted - We don’t call like we should - Or we argue all the time - Which never seems to do them much good - We assume they’ll be around for years to come… Before they die. - We love them so much that they become our all - We write their names on the walls of our hearts - So if our mind forgets, we will still remember - We spend so much time with them - Laughing and playing… hurting and crying - We cherish the moments we have with them - Before they die…” (Allen Paul Weaver III, Transition: Breaking Through the Barriers, IUniverse, p.65)

AFTER THEY DIE…

I remember driving through the Rwandan countryside and seeing a Memorial building in the distance… “We Shall Never Forget” was painted in large white letters. Then on Sunday May 25th Drew, Leah and I went to the Kigali Memorial Center: a permanent memorial to those who were killed; and a place where survivors can come and grieve for those they lost. Our vehicle pulled up to the white entrance gate - the sound of gravel beneath our tires. An armed security guard stood at the gate and padded us down, using his hand and a metal detector wand. I handed my video camera off to John, one of our hosts and proceeded to empty out the contents on my Production Vest, which has 24 pockets. The guard was thorough in his search and a few moments later our group was granted access. At the Welcome Center, we were told that photographs and video were allowed on the Memorial Grounds outside, but not inside where the displays were. So we proceeded with the tour outside before going in.

The first thing that drew our eye was a flaming structure which honored the memory of those who were killed. These flames were continuous. As we walked through the courtyard, we came across large cement slabs, which covered several mass graves. Flowers surround the cement coverings. The Memorial Center itself is built on a site where over 250,000 people are buried. 250,000 persons…

We also came to a wall that held the names of many who had died. I could only stand in silence as my eyes scanned the rows and columns. Names… no photos… just names… of people I never met but who had lived and breathed and dreamed and died on this planet. Many of them dying without any dignity - at the hands of murderers - people who used to be their friends and their neighbors.

I couldn’t help but think of how we respond when a famous person dies: media coverage, special memorial services, large gatherings at their funeral, kind words said about who they were… this stands in stark contrast to this wall where the names of unknown individuals were inscribed. No media coverage. No CNN. No flashing bulbs from the cameras of the paparazi. No great memorial services where thousands show up to pay their respects. Just names… But they were human beings like us who carried the image of God in them.

And here I was, as their eyes and ears, hands and feet - the weight of the moment calling me to take their story back to America and as far around the world as possible - so people would know… so people would care. They carried the image of God within them… just like we all do; and their lives were worth something.

I guess… now that I think about it - that this Memorial, in the capital city of Kigali, is greater than what a famous person, who everyone knows, receives because this memorial stands for the entire world to experience. As long as humanity breathes on the face of the earth, those who died here will be remembered.

THE WALKING TIMELINE…

Inside, there is a walking timeline that starts with pre-colonial days and journeys through to the time just after the genocide. Here, I learned so much that was unknown to me. Before Colonialism, the Rwandan people were One people. After the arrival of colonial rule, Rwandans became divided. The colonial powers did bring some benefits, such as Christianity, improved schooling, medicine and societal infrastructure, as well as export opportunities for Rwandan produce… but these were outweighed by the increasing negatives.

“The primary identity of all Rwandans was originally associated with eighteen different clans. The categories Hutu, Tutsi and Twa were socio-economic classifications within the clans, which could change with personal circumstances. Under colonial rule, the distinctions were made racial, particularly with the introduction of the identity card in 1932. In creating these distinctions, the colonial power identified anyone with ten cows in 1932 as a Tutsi and anyone with less than ten cows as Hutu, and this also applied to his descendants.” - (Jenoside, Kigali Memorial Center, p.9)

Rwandans had lived in peace for hundreds of years but with the arrival of the Germans in 1895, things were beginning to change. Following the Germans were the Belgians who established the identity cards in 1932. Not only were socio-economic distinctions (which could be changed through hard work and intermarriage) made racial (one cannot change their race), but the colonial powers began to deliberately show favoritism to the Tutsi’s, which created and increased a prejudice between the Rwandan people. Over time, Tutsi’s were elevated and Hutu’s were demoralized. The chasm between them became even more defined.

Jump ahead many years and you now have a divided country - not its original intent - but re-created in the image of its oppressors. The meaning of it’s name had been lost and replaced with a counterfeit environment. The Rwandan political system was on many levels a pawn in a much larger story where prejudice and death were encouraged by outside governments. Thousands of Tutsi were killed during the years of 1959-1973; years before the Genocide of 1994. During this period of time the Hutus’ fought to overthrow their Tutsi brothers and sisters and established a repressive, single party, Hutu regime - all encouraged by the Belgian colonialists.

By the time of the Genocide in 1994, years of hate propaganda had been spread through the Rwandan media and many Hutu youth and young adults had been indoctrinated with its lies. Thousands of Tutsi had been killed between 1990-1994. Civil war had broken out between the Hutu regime and the Rwandan Patriotic Front (which many Tutsi had joined). All the while, the French Government continued to support the oppressive Hutu regime that was in power in Rwanda. The intense hate propaganda, dispersed through the television, radio and periodicals, further cemented the idea that the Tutsi, who had once been compatriots, neighbors, and family, were now and always to be the enemy. And if any Hutu was sympathetic towards any Tutsi, then that Hutu was to be considered a traitor.

A FLOOD OF EMOTION

I was hit with a flood of emotions: hurt and anger were the most prevalent. The Genocide that was soon to occur, was a planned and deliberate act. This all reminded me of what I felt when I went to the Slave Castle in Ghana for the first time and learned how the Europeans had colonized parts of West Africa and enacted such a structured environment of oppression and demoralization… All of this was too familiar and as I walked through the Genocide exhibit, I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. There were not only words that described the events, there were pictures and video testimonies. I forced myself to view horrific images of mutilated and decayed bodies. I watched video footage of individuals being hacked by machetes and shot. As the tears flowed I silently prayed and asked, “God where were you? I know you were there somewhere… I have to believe you were… where were you?”

I noticed that our hosts, had drawn back and grew very quiet. One was near tears. It was then that I realized that although I was angry about what happened with the atrocities of slavery, the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade happened hundreds of years ago. But what my Rwandan brothers were feeling at that moment was from a terrible Event that only happened 14 years ago. They had lived through the Genocide! Every Rwandan that I met, who was over 14 years old - lived through one of the worst, defining moments in human history! They knew someone… a loved one, a family member, a friend who fell victim during this time. It wasn’t something that they read about, as I was doing… it was something that they experienced… that they lived through. What kind of inner strength does it take to press forward after a tragic event and dare to believe God for better days ahead? How does one even find the strength to smile or laugh? But I had already met many Rwandans who were doing this very thing.

Yet our hosts brought us to this Memorial, knowing what memories it would force to the surface of their minds and hearts, so that we might begin to know and understand.

I couldn’t help but think of what I was doing back in 1994. It was my second year of college and I really didn’t care what was happening half-way around the world at that time. I felt sorry for the Rwandans, but I didn’t “care” about their plight. After all, as one person, what could I do? I was guilty. I lived among a culture that was guilty. While the Genocide happened - where over 1 million men, woman, and children lost their lives in 100 days - the culture of the West, for the most part, did nothing to help. As much as I didn’t want to face this truth, it was a historical fact. The Genocide could have been prevented on several occasions, but the United Nations and America did not do what was within their power to do to stop it. This is a historical fact and not my opinion. Those in high political places sat and watched it happen. And those of us caught up in our own lives and popular culture didn’t care that it was happening. We were too distracted by things that didn’t matter.

The bible says in James 4:17, “So any person who knows what is right to do but does not do it, to him it is sin.”

There were governments around the world who were guilty of the Sin of Commission - they helped to support this tremendous loss of life. There were governments around the world who were guilty of the Sin of Omission - they did nothing to help stop the loss of life, even though it was in their power to do so… And there were governments who did what they could do to help.

THE IMAGE OF GOD…

“God where were you in all of this?” I quietly whispered as I looked at so many accounts of trauma brought through death, rape and mutilation. The photographs of hundreds of orphaned children stared at me. “You have to have been here somewhere…” “Where were you?” That’s when I came across the many stories of the survivors… those Tutsi who were miraculously delivered from a most certain death through the divine intervention enacted upon by a heart filled with compassion. Any time a heart is filled with compassion… this is a moment of divine intervention.

There were numerous video and written testimonies of individuals who were spared death because of a Hutu, who did not buy into the lies of an oppressive regime. There were Hutus who risked and sacrificed their lives to keep their Tutsi brothers and sisters safe. I listened to these stories of compassion and saw… the presence of God in the midst of a dark tragedy. Even in the midst of death, life was being preserved. Here is one such account of a man who risked his life to save others… and an account from one such person that he saved:

“Nsengiyumva Yahaya was a Muslim living in Nyamirambo. During the genocide he is said to have saved the lives of over 30 people, who he protected or hid in his outhouse….” “The interahamwe killer was chasing me down the alley. I was going to die any second. I banged on the door of the yard. It opened almost immediately. He took me by the hand and stood in his doorway and told the killer to leave. He said that the Koran says: ‘If you save one life, it is like saving the whole world.’ He did not know it is a Jewish text as well.” (Jenocide, Kigali Memorial Center, p. 30)

THE GLASS, WALLS AND THE CHILDREN

After walking through the timeline exhibit, there was a room where glass cases lined the walls. In these cases were the bones of many victims. I couldn’t help but think that underneath our skin color, which we seem to use as a dividing marker, we are all the same… our bones look the same. One room over, glass cases again line the walls - this time filled with the actual clothes worn by those who fell victim to the killings: dresses, pants, shirts, shoes… One room over from there, thousands of photos of those who were killed line the walls, from the floor to the ceiling. There are no names… just photographs of the deceased, brought to the Memorial Center by their loved ones. As I looked through countless faces, I couldn’t help but notice how many of them looked familiar to me. Several of them looked like people, from America, who I see often. One person even looked very much like the comedian Chris Tucker.

After leaving from these rooms, we headed upstairs towards two more exhibit sections. The first is dedicated to the children who died. This was perhaps one of the hardest places to walk through. At its entrance is a sign that reads, “In memory of our beautiful and beloved children. You should have been our future.” Further in, another sign reads, “Not even the innocent survived.”

Large photos of children as young as 9 months and as old as 17 hang on the walls. Beneath their picture is a listing of what they liked and at the bottom is the account of how they died. Here are the accounts of seven such children.

Mami: age 12. Her favorite food was chips with mayonnaise. She enjoyed traditional dance. Her favorite song was “The Beauty of Woman.” Her last words were “Mum, where can I run to?” She was shot dead.

Bernardin: age 17. His favorite sport was Futball. His favorite food was tea and rice. He was clever in school. He was hacked to death by machete at Nyamata Church.

David: age 10. He loved Futball and making people laugh. He dreamed of becoming a doctor. His last words were, “U.N.A.M.I.R. will come for us.” He was tortured to death. (U.A.N.M.I.R. was the peacekeeping force from the United Nations)

Ariane: age 4. She loved cake and milk. She enjoyed singing and dancing. She was a neat little girl. She died after being stabbed in her eyes and head.

Nadia Chanelle: age 8. She enjoyed jogging with her father and loved eating chocolate. She loved drinking milk and enjoyed the song, “My Native Land which God Chose for Me.” She liked TV and music. She died after being hacked by machete.

Aurore: age 2. She loved drinking cow’s milk and playing Hide and Seek with her big brother. She loved to talk. She was burnt alive in Gikondo Chapel.

Fillette: age 2. She loved her doll and enjoyed eating rice and chips. She was daddy’s little girl. She was killed by being smashed against a wall.

WASTED LIVES

The last of the exhibit rooms is across the hall. This exhibit is called Wasted Lives and looks at Twentieth Century genocidal violence from around the world. Here it chronicles the atrocities in Namibia, Armenia, Nazi Germany, Cambodia and the Balkans.

“Human suffering should never be compared, its causes and consequences must be.” (Jenocide, Kigali Memorial Center, p.43)

Over the years, groups have tried to say that Africa is a land of savagery. Its people are less than human and only capable of brutality and a backwards existence. They are a people to be subjugated and exploited for the natural resources of their land. Some would look at the Genocide in Rwanda as an example of this line of reasoning.

However, what the Wasted Lives exhibit reveals is that brutality is found around the world and cannot be relegated to only one group of people. In every culture on earth there are those who kill their own - whether through manipulation or by a deliberate, knowledgeable decision. I can’t help but be reminded of my college professor who used to say, “Whenever you point your finger at someone you always have three pointing back at you.”

The exhibit also adds to the legitimacy of the Rwandan Genocide. By juxtaposing it next to other world atrocities, one would find it difficult to minimize this tragic event to a mere civil war. And if this truth cannot be denied, then there is a very high level of responsibility that rests on the world to aid in the reconciliation and re-establishment of the Rwandan people.

WHAT WORDS CAN BE SAID?

I found myself at the end of the tour… staring at a sheet of white paper. This sheet of paper was part of the Memorial’s Visitor Response System. A few minutes passed as I stood and looked… “What would I say? What could I say?” I could choose the option to not say anything - to not sign anything and walk out of the memorial having left no evidence of my ever being present. But wasn’t I guilty of this already? Of not being present back in 1994? Wasn’t I guilty of not caring then? Don’t I care enough now, in order to take a few moments to wrestle through my thoughts and emotions, to confront my fears and ignorance and actually “say” something about this Event? The easy thing would be to just walk away… But haven’t I chosen the easy thing too many times before?

“Forgive me for not caring about such a tragedy that took place. Forgive me for being so caught up in my own culture and life that I could not be concerned. Forgive me for believing that the Genocide in Rwanda did not somehow affect me - and the world - because it was so far away - with people I didn’t know.” - Allen Paul Weaver III, Kigali Memorial Center, Sunday May 25, 2008, Rwanda

RECONCILIATION

By the end of the Genocide, 85% of the Tutsi population had been murdered. Many who actually committed murder are now in prison; although there are those who have fled the country. Those victims who were not murdered were raped, mutilated or abused in some other way. HIV/AIDS is a serious issue. Thousands of children are orphans. Those who survived and are living today are having to deal with such tremendous trauma on their own. Extensive damage had been done. And even to this day, mass graves are still be discovered.

But today - in 2008 - fourteen years later, reconciliation continues to take place between the Tutsis’ and the Hutus’. Only by pursuing justice and reconciliation can the present and future be secure. However, the process of reconciliation is a long road to follow and navigate. Pray for the healing of the victims and those who committed these unspeakable acts. Then find out how you can get involved in making a holistic, bright future available to those Rwandans who need it.

Together… we can make a difference.

The Rwanda-Burundi Chronicles: Part 2 of 4

-Allen Paul Weaver III -

Be ready for Part 3 which will look at my experience in Burundi on Friday June 6, 2008