The cost of remembrance: Rwanda 25 years later

25 years after the start of the Genocide Against the Tutsi in Rwanda, Rwandan-American Lilian Pari Umboza steps up to a table of unlit candles and leads those gathered at the Jewish Heritage Museum in Lower Manhattan through a heavy moment of silence to remind everyone in attendance why they’re there.

“This ceremony is a lesson to all of us so history doesn’t repeat,” Umboza says as families quietly shush babies and music in Kinyarwanda, the official language of Rwanda, is abruptly turned off. 

Rwandans aren’t the only members in attendance: survivors of the Holocaust and their families also are spread out across the room--the two communities forever entwined because of shared trauma.

With heads bowed, Rwandans and Jews remember those that they have lost. Despite the passing of time, and even as Rwanda celebrates many accomplishments, the trauma is ever-present. As part of the challenging healing process, many survivors have formed adopted families, introduced public memorials into society as a form of collective memory and continue to speak about what they faced during the crisis.

“The genocide against the Tutsi is the past that is ever present,” said Jacqueline Murekatete, founder of the Genocide Survivor Foundation, an organization that provides support to genocide survivors and their families, at the event. “The over a million [Tutsi killed] represents our mothers, our fathers, our brothers, our sisters, our grandparents, our uncles and aunts, our cousins, our teachers, our friends and our neighbors.”

In April 1994, former President Juvenal Habyarimana’s plane was shot down, widely accepted as the spark to the mass killings. Hutu killing groups, known as the Interahamwe, began their extermination of Tutsis, leaving an estimated one million dead, according to the Rwandan Government. Experts recognize if the warning signs, such as dehumanization tactics used by public radio and the stockpiling of machetes, had been paid attention to, the genocide could have been prevented. 

As Rwanda moves on from its bloody past, the country has become a beacon of resilience within eastern Africa. In Rwanda’s parliament, 61 percent of members are women and Rwanda’s economy continues to grow, according to the World Bank. 

Part of the healing process has involved how survivors have faced their trauma.

The research on trauma has grown in the past few years. Originally, researchers thought when survivors spoke about the original trauma, they risked re-traumatizing themselves. But research has actually found that changing the context around the memory can help the healing process, according to Howard Robinson, who specializes in trauma and public memorials at Fordham University

“It’s in the relocation of those memories that the brain gets rewired because the memory is now shifted and transformed,” said Robinson.

For survivors, many are unable to forget the horrors that they faced. Murekatete was nine when the genocide started and says she will never be able to forget what happened to her and her family until the day she dies.

“The consequences and wounds resulting from genocide also cannot be expected to be dealt with or healed overnight,” said Murekatete. “Healing those wounds today are not only a product of passing time but healing also happens because needed services and support is provided.”

Survivors have found support in adoptive families of their own choosing, shaping emotional bonds that anchor them to what “normal” life is supposed to be like, a normality they have been denied by the murder of their family members.

“Over the past 25 years, one of the things that I was grateful for was a company of my fellow survivors,” said Murekatete. “People who have become sisters, brothers, aunts and mother-figures to me. I come here with a heart full of gratitude for what has taken place in my life over the past 25 years.”

Fellow survivor, Console Nishimwe, was 14 when the genocide started. She said that the process of adopting families was based on friends’ personalities. If two people were the most mature in their group of friends, they would become the parental-figures.

“In order for us to be able to function, feel normal and be like anybody else we had to create artificial families,” said Nishimwe. “We figured out how to feel normal in society.”

Public memorials have also become a way for survivors and future generations to remember what happened. In New York, events like the one held at the Jewish Heritage Museum act as such.

Robinson says that within Rwanda, locations where mass graves were found are especially important when choosing where to place a memorial. There’s also an emphasis placed on symbols of the genocide.

“There are no brutal images but there are artifacts,” Robinson said. “In the Nyamata Church, it didn’t provide images but had the clothing of those who were killed there.”

The Nyamata Church is a public memorial, where nearly 46,000 people are buried in a mass grave behind the church. Skulls, clothing and other personal belongings are in the church’s basement to showcase what happened during the genocide.

Robinson sees public memorials as being impactful to survivors and visitors. While there’s a debate about using traumatic images because of how survivors may react, he says, “Being re-exposed to the original trauma and good thinking can be how the public memorial can transform the experience.”

During the commemoration ceremony, Dydo Kageruka told the story of his survival as a 6-year-old. As he spoke, he began to repeat parts of his story and then apologized for his story becoming scattered.

“This is my first time talking about this in front of such a large group,” Kageruka explained.

It wasn’t until a friend came up on stage and placed his hand on Kageruka’s shoulder that Kageruka could go on.

Robinson applauded the act, saying, “We’re sharing the memory in a new context when the memory can be relocated in the midst of support, in the midst of receptivity of other people, in the midst of empathy.”

Healing has been a challenge for survivors who may not have the services and the support provided to help over time.

“Even today, you still have survivors in Rwanda who still live in their minds as if it is 1994, 1995, because they are plagued with nightmares, every night, every week,” Murekatete said. “These nightmares heighten up particularly during a period like this, April to June when we commemorate the genocide.”

After the genocide, many young survivors tried to go back and live normal lives by going to school and starting families. Nishimwe says since so much time has passed, survivors are now dealing with mental health issues.

“We’re trying to talk about the stories and making sure we share these stories,” Nishimwe said. “We all suffered the same way. If you never dealt with it, it doesn’t matter what kind of life you have. It’s involved in you.”

Nishimwe admits that they’ve had members of their community die because of the failure to address the trauma and when compounded with the stress of moving to the United States, it can become too much.

“They can’t handle mentally what’s happened in their lives,” Nishimwe said. “Some of them can’t handle it.”

Not talking about the trauma is cultural. Rwandans tend to be more closed off, Nishimwe explained. Over time, Rwandans living in America have learned to open up.

“We are taught not to talk about everything,” Nishimwe said. “When we share, we become light. It took me many years to be vulnerable.” 

Later in the week at the United Nations, dignitaries and survivors gathered to remember those lost in the violence. President Paul Kagame addressed the full General Assembly Hall during his keynote stating, “Remembrance is an act of honor and an act of prevention.”

Honoring the dead comes in the form of reminding survivors and spectators who the dead actually were. At the Jewish Heritage Museum, survivors lit candles at the end of the event, saying a few sentences on the ones they had lost.

“I’m lighting this candle in memory of parents, brothers and sisters, family members and everyone who lost life, we never we would see life because this time of darkness but here we are and we feel supported and loved,” a survivor said, setting the candle down on the table and being embraced by other speakers as he fell back into line and another stepped up.