Citation
“HE NEVER CEASED TO AMAZE ME”
A Tribute to Father Joseph Niyomugabo
PO Box 3836, Kigali, Rwanda
“HE NEVER CEASED TO AMAZE ME”
A Tribute to Father Joseph Niyomugabo
April 2012
PO Box 3836, Kigali, Rwanda
“Fr. Niyomugabo was special, someone of noble character. Anyone who knew him and
survived would remember him. He always had time for people and he was humble and
discreet. I was constantly impressed by his kindness and capacity for organization. It was
a privilege to serve under him.”
François Masabo
“When Fr. Niyomugabo was at Cyanika, there was no distance between priest and
parishioner. Instead, there was hope.”
Senator Jean-Damascène Bizimana
“He always spoke the truth, even if the truth hurt influential people or people stronger
than him. He did this in his sermons and in his conversations. He never minced his
words.”
Sr. Renata Kanziga
“This priest was a hero and a parent to a lot of people. He was a worthy disciple of
Christ in his everyday actions. The legacy he has left for us is the responsibility to fight
for peace for our fellow men. He chose to give his life, instead of abandoning others
whose pain he shared. He could have left Cyanika, and possibly died elsewhere, but he
did not do so.”
Sr. Marie-Josée Mukabayire
“He didn’t just read the gospel. He took into account the fact that everyone, even the
young, has something to say and to teach. He didn’t just preach: he listened to people.”
André-Martin Karongozi
“Even though I was still young, I could see how much Fr. Niyomugabo cared about his
parishioners. He was what a priest should be. He showed his love for us at the most
difficult of times, when everyone was trying to save his own skin. I have never seen in
anyone else the devotion and sacrifice he showed us at that time. Even though he has
died, we need to show him how grateful we are. I hope that one day he will be
canonised.”
Marianne Nikuze
“The government should recognize Fr. Niyomugabo and give him a place among the
national heroes.”
Spéciose Mukangenzi
Table of Contents
INTRODUCTION ......................................................................................................... 1
1. THE LIFE OF FR. JOSEPH NIYOMUGABO ........................................................ 3
“An Outstanding Teacher” ........................................................................................... 5
“We Share Our Beliefs:” Fr. Niyomugabo as a Priest ................................................... 5
1990-March 1994: “Fr. Niyomugabo Was Not Deterred” ........................................... 10
2. “IT‟S SERIOUS THIS TIME”: 7-20 APRIL 1994 ................................................ 14
Offering Shelter and a Warm Welcome ...................................................................... 15
Providing Food, Water, Medical Care, Moral and Spiritual Comfort .......................... 19
Standing Firm: Staying When He Could Have Left .................................................... 21
3. “YOUR HOUR HAS COME”: THE MASSACRE OF 21 APRIL 1994 AND THE
MURDER OF FR. NIYOMUGABO ON 24 APRIL 1994 ......................................... 24
Safeguarding Fr. Niyomugabo ................................................................................... 26
24 April 1994: The Murder of Fr. Niyomugabo .......................................................... 27
4. “YOU WILL REMAIN IN OUR HEARTS”: TRIBUTES TO FR. JOSEPH
NIYOMUBGAO .......................................................................................................... 30
P of Cyanika, Photo by Petterik Wiggers
The church at the Parish
INTRODUCTION
On 26 February 2012, the remains of an estimated 25,000 victims of the 1994 genocide
were laid to rest at a memorial site in Cyanika, Nyamagabe district. The bodies had been
buried in three mass graves near the Parish of Cyanika. The majority of the victims had
been killed at the parish on the morning of 21 April 1994. The soldiers, local officials,
politicians and militiamen who bear responsibility for their deaths had, that very morning,
killed an even larger number of Tutsi men, women and children in a school under
construction in Murambi, in the town of Gikongoro, now a national genocide memorial
site. Some of the survivors of Murambi had run to Cyanika, hoping they would find
protection at the parish. They had barely caught their breath when they endured a second
large-scale massacre.
The victims who were reburied on 26 February 1994 included Father Joseph
Niyomugabo, the senior Catholic priest in charge of the Parish of Cyanika during the
genocide. He had been a priest in Cyanika since 1985. Fr. Niyomugabo had many
opportunities to leave the parish between 7 and 21 April and to safeguard his life. Given
the animosity with which he was regarded by local government officials, he had more
reason to leave the parish than anyone else. His fellow clergy, who knew the risks he ran,
pleaded with him to accompany them to safety. But he refused to leave. Saying he had
spent many years with the refugees who crowded the parish, and who had turned to him
in their hour of need, he told his colleagues he could not desert his parishioners at such a
critical moment. By putting the needs of others before his own, in the most terrifying of
circumstances, he proved worthy of the refugees’ trust in him.
Inspired by his faith and the values he held dear, Fr. Niyomugabo, a man of unfailing
courage and integrity, ignored the dangers he faced. Instead, he devoted himself to the
care and protection of the refugees. They were frightened, anxious, in desperate need of
food, water, medical care and moral and spiritual comfort and they were under constant
siege. He welcomed them to his church, and did all he could to shelter them from danger
and to provide every assistance possible.
Most important of all, as the survivors emphasize in their testimonies, he stayed by their
side. Eventually, he also died by their side. On 24 April 1994, prisoners brought in to
bury the victims of the massacre of 21 April discovered his hideout. He was subjected to
torture and humiliation before he was murdered.
Forced to scatter once the killing began on 21 April, the survivors of Cyanika learned
about the death of Fr. Niyomugabo either while they were still in hiding, or after the
genocide. The passage of time has not diminished their love for him, or their awareness
of his sacrifice. In this report, survivors, including priests and nuns who worked
alongside him, and others who knew him prior to the genocide, talk about the man they
knew and the priest who reached out to them and who touched them in so many aspects
of their lives, individually and collectively. They explain why, in the words of Sister
Renata Kanziga, he never ceased to amaze them.
1
“He Never Ceased to Amaze Me”: A Tribute to Father Joseph Niyomugabo is part of a
series of publications by African Rights to record and celebrate the lives and courage of
the unsung heroes of the genocide. In the midst of the horrors of 1994, the efforts of the
brave men and women, both Rwandan and foreigners—who did all they could to shield,
feed, heal and watch over the men, women and children who were the targets of the
genocide — provided a rare glimmer of hope. As they have acknowledged over the years,
many of the survivors owe their lives to the kindness, bravery and sense of solidarity
shown by these men and women. They refused to be cowed by the unrelenting
propaganda and pressure intended to divide people, severing bonds which had linked
individuals and communities over the years.
Conscious of the huge debt Rwanda, and humanity, owe them, African Rights has written
a book, as well as individual reports, about the people praised for taking a stand against
the genocide. In December 2002, we published Tribute to Courage, in English and
French, a 299-page book which commemorates the compassion and strength of 19 people
who risked their lives to save others. This was followed, in April 2003, by The Gisimba
Memorial Centre: No Place for Fear, which detailed the battles of Damas Mutezintare
Gisimba to defend the Tutsi orphans and the refugees at his orphanage against the
violence of 1994. In December 2006, “A True Humanitarian”: A Tribute to Carl Wilkens,
examines the challenges faced by the country director of the Adventist Development and
Relief Agency (ADRA) who refused to leave his Rwandan colleagues and friends in
1994.
The choices and achievements of those who took a stand against the genocide, in the
process saving lives, are significant to Rwanda’s past, present and future and to the
international human rights cause. The values they fought for, and in some cases, died for
— our common humanity, a sense of mutual responsibility and the importance of
compassion — are essential to highlight as Rwanda seeks to recover from the genocide
and to build a future of justice, peace, tolerance and unity. In identifying and honouring
them, by publicizing their deeds and their sacrifices, African Rights hopes they will find
their special and rightful place in the history of Rwanda, and in the international struggle
to defend and promote human rights and to prevent genocide.
2
1
THE LIFE OF FR. JOSEPH NIYOMUGABO
Father Joseph Niyomugabo was born in commune Muko 1, Gikongoro, in 1941 to
Anastasie Nyirambibi and Niyibizi. He had three sisters and two brothers. He was
baptized on 22 January 1953 and was confirmed on 17 May 1953 at the Parish of
Kaduha, also in Gikongoro. He went to primary school in Mushubi and Kaduha. In 1956,
he went to the Junior Seminary in Kabgayi, Gitarama, for his secondary education. He
did well in school where he also liked to play football.
He attended the Grand Seminary in Nyakibanda, Butare, where he trained as a priest. He
went for further studies to Rome, Italy, and studied philosophy, and then to Belgium
where he studied theology. He was ordained as a priest on 28 July 1968 at Orval in
Belgium. He returned to study in Rome and in Strasbourg, France.
In 1971, Fr. Niyomugabo returned to Rwanda and started to teach at the Junior Seminary
in Kansi, commune Nyaruhengeri, Butare, before becoming the rector there in 1972. But
in 1973, when there was a wave of intimidation and violence directed at Tutsis in
educational institutions and in the civil service, Fr. Niyomugabo, fearful for his life and
that of his students who had been expelled, left for Bujumbura, Burundi. He went with a
group of his students. They settled at the Junior Seminary in Kanyosha, in Bujumbura,
and he stayed with them until they completed their studies in 1976. While in exile, he
kept in touch with his family by sending letters and financial support through a European
priest who was a friend, Fr. Edouard. On one occasion, a nun living in Bugesera arranged
for him to meet up with his mother at the border of Rwanda/Burundi.
Etienne Bisengimana also left Rwanda for Burundi in 1973, together with his sister, Sr.
Patricie Kankindi, a nun at a convent in Save, Butare. He was a secondary school student
in Save. While in Burundi, he got to know Fr. Niyomugabo through his sister and
because he came to gave lessons at his school, St. Albert in Bujumbura. There was an
even more direct link.
He paid my school fees throughout secondary school which I completed in Burundi.
During the first three years, Fr. Niyomugabo personally gave me money on a monthly
basis. But when he went to France, he sent the money through other priests who were
coming to Burundi. There was no condition attached to paying my school fees. He gave
me the money freely.
He helped others as well, according to Etienne.
1
Following the reorganization of Rwanda’s administrative structure, the former commune of Muko is now
part of the district of Mushubi.
3
Fr. Niyomugabo paid the school fees of many Rwandan students in Burundi, including
the students who went to Burundi with him. I don’t know where he got the money for the
school fees from. I think he got it from Europe because he had a lot of friends there.
The support he gave to students went beyond financial aid, said Etienne.
Fr. Niyomugabo was a good person who tried to show solidarity to Rwandan refugees in
Burundi. He also worked to find school placements at the Junior Seminary or at St.
Albert for all the refugees of school age. For the students at the Seminary, he organized
meetings for them to air their complaints. When Burundian students grumbled that there
were too many Rwandans, he talked to the Burundian priests to try and defuse the
situation. He said Rwandans also had the right to study at the Junior Seminary.
Fr. Niyomugabo also gave advice to all of us. He came to visit me at home sometimes,
and I would also go to see him, even though we could only visit for a few minutes at a
time.
The fact that Fr. Niyomugabo maintained contact even after he left for France has
endeared his memory to Etienne.
In the letters he sent from France, he asked me about school and if my studies were going
well. I told him about my problems. He also wrote to the other students he was giving
money to. Fr. Niyomugabo sent the money and the letters to me through a priest called
Fr. Kayiranga.2
Between 1976-1979, Fr. Niyomugabo studied at the Sorbonne in Paris on a scholarship.
When he returned to Rwanda in 1979, he became the curate at the Parish of Gisagara,
Butare, and secretary of the bishopric of Gisagara. In 1982, he gave courses at the Junior
Seminary of Karubanda, in Butare town, while still at Gisagara. In September 1985, he
was transferred to the Parish of Cyanika, situated in Nyanza I cellule, sector Cyanika in
Karama as the senior priest.
Fr. Niyomugabo’s own history reflects the deep-seated culture of impunity which
explains many aspects of the 1994 genocide. His father was killed in 1959 by a
neighbour. His mother and siblings stayed at their family home until 1963. In 1963, when
there was again violence directed at Tutsis, which was particularly marked in Gikongoro,
they took refuge at the Parish of Kaduha after their house was burnt to the ground by
neighbours. After two weeks, they went back to rebuild their house.
In 1994, his mother was killed at home, and his two brothers, Vénuste Nsanzubuhoro and
Ananiè Bugingo, died in Muko along with his nephews. One sister perished in Ruhuha,
Bugesera, and the other two sisters were killed at the commune office of Muko on 19
May. He is survived by a niece, Agnès Usengumuremyi, and a nephew, Fidèle
Rwamuhizi, whose testimonies are included in this report.
2
Interviewed in Kigali, 24 April 2012.
4
“An Outstanding Teacher”
Jean-Bosco Gakwisi was in his first year at the Junior Seminary of Karubanda when Fr.
Niyomugabo was teaching second year students. His students, he remembers, spoke
highly of him.
They said he was an outstanding teacher who cared deeply about the success of his
students, encouraging hard work and intellectual rigour.
From Montréal in Canada, Gakwisi, a former priest, recalled his independence of mind
and the qualities which attracted visitors to the Seminary.
In his relations with his bishops, Monsignor Jean-Baptiste Gahamanyi and Monsignor
Augustin Misago, he stood out for his independent spirit which enabled him to express
his ideas without being afraid of negative consequences for himself.
A priest who was welcoming, jovial and generous, Fr. Niyomugabo was certainly the
most loved of his colleagues. Several priests used to like spending the evening in his
parish, where they knew they would find a tranquil and friendly atmosphere and a sense
of fraternity. 3
Later, he added, young trainee priests sought a transfer to the Parish of Cyanika because
Fr. Niyomugabo “offered them work which allowed them to flourish by giving them
freedom in exercising their pastoral responsibilities.”
André-Martin Karongozi, a lawyer, was also at Karubanda between 1980-1981, at the
same time as Fr. Niyomugabo. He was not taught by him. But, like Gakwisi, he was
aware of his reputation as a teacher.
He was teaching French to students in their final year. Those who were in his class used
to say he was intelligent and that he expected a lot from them. He himself had a degree
from France and he wanted them to speak an advanced level of French. I didn’t have him
as a teacher, but students always know the teachers of a school. I was happy to look up to
him because he was a special person. He was not only a very good French speaker, but
also a kind person. I admired him. 4
In September 1985, Fr. Niyomugabo left for the Parish of Cyanika.
“We Share Our Beliefs”: Fr. Niyomugabo as a Priest
In common with many Catholic parishes in Rwanda, the Parish of Cyanika sits on
sprawling grounds. In addition to the church and its buildings, it was linked to a school, a
health centre and a convent, giving the priest in charge considerable influence over the
lives of local residents. The fact that the parish is located in the centre of the village made
it more accessible to a larger number of people.
3
4
Written statement sent from Canada.
Interviewed in Kigali, 17 April 2012.
5
In the exercise of his pastoral duties, from the content of his sermons to his relations with
his flock and the priests who worked with him, and the manner in which he ran the affairs
of the parish, Fr. Niyomugabo appears to have been considered an inspirational figure.
André-Martin is himself from Gikongoro and considered Fr. Niyomugabo “a close
friend.” He said it was a great fortune to have had him as the principal priest at Cyanika,
both in terms of what he preached, but also the manner in which he chose to express
himself.
He was the first priest I saw celebrating mass without reading from a paper. He would
leave the pulpit and come and speak directly in front of the parishioners. It was new for
us to have a priest come out from behind the pulpit to preach. He was a great speaker. He
illustrated what he was saying through proverbs. People loved this about him.
He attracted people to church through what he said. This was really something special
about him. The fact that he preferred to be physically close to people was another
exceptional quality. He was very smart in how he did this. Sometimes people who studied
in Europe like he had were disconnected from the people and didn’t speak Kinyarwanda
well. But he spoke Kinyarwanda and French very well.
He started every mass by saying: “Bakinstu dusangiye ukwemeru,” meaning “We share
our beliefs.” By using this phrase, he was trying to tell people that we have everything in
common, that we are all learning from each other. He didn’t just read the gospel. He took
into account the fact that everyone, even the young, has something to say and to teach.
“He didn‟t just preach: he listened to people.”
François Masabo arrived at the Parish of Cyanika in 1986 and remained there until 1990.
He is grateful to have worked with Fr. Niyomugabo during his first posting as a young
priest. François, who now works as a lecturer at the National University in Butare, was
impressed by his superior’s managerial skills, his capacity for organization, his interest in
education, his ability to raise funds and, among other qualities, his unwavering
commitment to meet the needs of the poor among his parishioners.
He really taught me the importance of organization; to work in a structured manner and
to have a plan. He managed the parish well. He was able to organize people and was
capable of preparing a strategic plan for up to three years or so in advance. He put people
into different groups so they would come to the parish on different days. The meetings
were a sort of bible study. He was also capable of mobilizing money from donors,
especially in Europe.
One of the projects was the installation of a large stained glass window behind the altar.
He also built a conference hall for meetings and for teaching parishioners. It was part of
his bible revival project which focused on teaching people the gospel and theology. He
really believed in education.
6
He was very serious about the content of his speeches and sermons. He prepared every
time and encouraged us young priests to do the same. I would often seek his input. He
had a clear mind and was wise and a good advisor.
He also encouraged me as a young priest. I was free to decide when someone needed
food and I could give them something from the store.
At the parish there was always, he said, support for widows and orphans, especially food.
We often had milk, maize flour and sometimes cooking oil. These donations came
through Caritas and Catholic Relief Services. Fr. Niyomugabo was very humble and
discreet. Sometimes he would transport the food for people in his car.
He gave credit to Fr. Niyomugabo for his sensitivity in the face of poverty.
He went to look for people who needed assistance but who didn’t want to ask.
He summed up what he saw as his strengths.
His strength was to organize people and projects at different levels. It was a very unique
quality to him. He always found time to hold meetings with his team and this was
important to how he ran the parish. He also made the schedule for the parish three months
in advance, so I knew where I would be all the time. The people were also impressed and
liked his level of organization. They all understood the schedule because there was a
board where it was posted. 5
Faith Mukarango, who had moved to Cyanika in 1987, worked at the health centre. She
said she found Fr. Niyomugabo “kind and very sociable.”
Sometimes there were gatherings at his home and he invited everyone, without making
any distinctions.6
Senator Jean-Damascène Bizimana was a primary school teacher in Cyanika when Fr.
Niyomugabo arrived there in 1985. A native of Cyanika, he lived near the parish with his
family. A member of a group of parishioners who helped direct the parish, and part of a
group of parish teachers, he became involved in many activities at the parish. This
interaction gave him the opportunity to get to know Fr. Niyomugabo well, and he said
they became friends.
Fr. Niyomugabo cared for poor people. He helped by giving them school fees and
showing them how to start small businesses to generate some income. But he also gave
them advice and encouragement.
His ability to inspire and reach out to people, irrespective of their age, educational or
social background acted as a magnet, commented Bizimana, drawing people to church
during his tenure.
5
6
Interviewed in Kigali, 20 April 2012.
Interviewed in Cyanika, 28 March 2006.
7
He spoke to people with a good humour. Young or old, he knew how to talk to people.
When he was at Cyanika there were many people in church. Because he had studied, he
was able to convince educated people, who sometimes avoided church, to come to mass.
Before Fr. Niyomugabo came to Cyanika, people were afraid to go to the parish. But
when he was there they came freely and happily. People became dynamic under his
leadership. They formed groups and he encouraged open discussion. When students came
home, they even met to discuss events. This helped people develop a sense of community
and positive values. 7
Espérance Mukamana first became acquainted with Fr. Niyomugabo in 1988, before she
got married. She said she came to appreciate him as someone “who valued integrity and
told the truth.” Underlining his insistence on punctuality, she recalled, at the same time,
the humour with which he chided those who turned up late.
When you came to the church late for your marriage ceremony he would ask you why
and call you a grandmother and grandfather. Although he said this in jest, he was at the
same time expressing a truth.
Fr. Niyomugabo was a good leader, teaching parishioners according to their age. He was
kind to everyone. When he didn’t give mass, everyone would go home sad. I can’t find
the words to explain just how kind he was. He encouraged us to love God and helped us
to believe. He preached equality and never division.8
Vincent Kajyibwani, a farmer who lived in sector Kiyumba in Karama, echoed
Espérance.
Fr. Niyomugabo taught pure gospel, mainly about how to love each other and how to live
in harmony with everyone. He didn’t tolerate segregation and considered everyone as
equals. 9
Although a young boy at the time, Dominique Safari, from sector Cyanika, heard the
same message.
When he preached, he told us to like each other and to live in peace. He didn’t separate
people by ethnicity or by where they were from. He treated people as equals. 10
When Vérédiane Mukamugeme attended mass at Cyanika, Fr. Niyomugabo did not, she
said, waver in his instructions to his audience.
He liked to teach about love, living well with everyone and caring about others.11
7
Interviewed in Kigali, 20 April 2012.
Interviewed in Nyanza, Butare, 17 April 2012.
9
Interviewed in Cyanika, 16 April 2012.
10
Interviewed in Kigali, 13 April 2012.
11
Interviewed in Cyanika, 5 December 2005 and 16 April 2012.
8
8
Vérédiane Mukamugeme, Photo by Petterik Wiggers
9
1990-March 1994: “Fr. Niyomugabo Was Not Deterred”
The war which began in October 1990, between the Rwandan Armed Forces (FAR) and
the rebel Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF), which launched a surprise attack from Uganda,
had a dramatic impact on the lives of Tutsis in Cyanika, as elsewhere in Rwanda.
Because the RPF had been established by exiled Tutsis, the government came to regard
all Tutsis as RPF sympathizers. Hundreds were imprisoned on suspicion of being RPF
accomplices and many were subjected to torture and ill-treatment. Some were
subsequently dismissed from the civil service. Educated males, in particular, were looked
upon as a fifth column, and officials were told to keep a watchful eye on their activities,
movements and contacts.
As a highly educated priest who had earned a reputation as an influential community
leader, Fr. Niyomugabo had precisely the profile local authorities feared the most. All the
interviewees who were living in Cyanika at the time spoke of what they described as the
“hatred” of Fr. Niyomugabo by those in charge of commune Karama. But he refused to
be intimidated or silenced, they added, and instead spoke openly, criticizing the
discrimination against Tutsis, while urging his parishioners to be united and to live in
peace, side by side.
Clemence Niringiyinana, was living in sector Gikoni, commune Rukondo, but attended
church in Cyanika. She described Fr. Niyomugabo as “kind to everyone and as someone
who liked to help people in need.” Those “in need” in 1992 included Clemence and her
husband.
People—our neighbours—started to harass my husband and myself in 1990. We couldn’t
live a normal life. In 1992, the beatings increased, led by a certain Nkeramugaba. 12 They
came often to our home. One day, around 2:00 p.m., they chased us out of our home.
They were coming to kill us and we fled with our children. When we returned home we
found everything we owned had been destroyed.
Clemence and her husband turned to their priest for help.
We went to the Parish of Cyanika to see Fr. Niyomugabo. He welcomed us and told a
Sister to take care of my sick child. Fr. Niyomugabo also tried to ask for help on our
behalf but there were no results.
In 1993, Fr. Niyomugabo built us a house and had us write down all the household
materials we would need. He also gave us work so we could become independent. This
house was near the parish. We stayed there until 1994. 13
12
André Nkeramugaba was préfet of Gikongoro in 1963. He is widely seen as the man who instigated the
killing of Tutsis in Gikongoro in 1963.
13
Interviewed in Cyanika, 16 April 2012.
10
Clemence Niringiyinana, Photo by Petterik Wiggers
As intended, the arrests created fear and anxiety, and led people to watch their words and
to keep their distance from the individuals and families who were affected. But not Fr.
Niyomugabo, said André-Martin, whose own father was thrown in jail.
Most people didn’t want to visit the families of the people who had been imprisoned, but
Fr. Niyomugabo wasn’t deterred. My father was arrested in November 1990. He was
released five months later, in March 1991. My father didn’t have a car and was walking
the 12 kilometres home. He first stopped by the parish to see Fr. Niyomugabo before
going home. Some people would have told my father that they didn’t want to be seen
with him, but not Fr. Niyomugabo. He put my father in his car and drove him all the way
home. Everyone knew Fr. Niyomugabo’s car and could clearly see he was driving my
father who had just been in jail.
Given the positions he took prior to 1994, André-Martin does not find it difficult to
understand his stance during the genocide.
I was not surprised that he decided to stay put during the genocide, even though he knew
it was a big risk.
For Isaïe Iyamuremye, living in sector Ngoma in Karama, the animosity directed at Fr.
Niyomugabo during this period is in itself a reflection of the influence of the clergy.
11
During this time, all Tutsis were called inkotanyi [RPF]. Priests were leaders of their
community, so it was a logical accusation for the local leaders to make.
The bourgmestre, Ngezahayo, hated Fr. Niyomugabo a lot. He told people during official
meetings that he was the highest-ranking inkotanyi in Cyanika. Even during mass this
bourgmestre wouldn’t take communion from Fr. Niyomugabo and he didn’t invite the
priest to any official meetings.
Despite this, Fr. Niyomugabo continued to lead his people well and remained a caring
person. He liked to give advice to people. A man called Joseph Karongozi14 was arrested,
accused of helping the inkotanyi. Fr. Niyomugabo called all the intellectuals, especially
teachers, and told them to be careful about what they said and where they went. He also
talked about this during mass.
I never heard of Fr. Niyomugabo supporting the inkotanyi or of collecting money for
them. It was a lie the bourgmestre was saying to make people afraid to associate with
him.
But the animosity of local officials did not, said Isaïe, change his behaviour.
He told the community during mass that the local leaders were committing injustice. That
is when local leaders really started to say he was the leader of the inkotanyi in Cyanika.
They wouldn’t say this during mass, but in meetings held at the sector office. He even
talked about the injustice of this in the presence of the bourgmestre because Fr.
Niyomugabo knew the bourgmestre was not right in telling people not to trust him. 15
Nor did Espérance notice any difference in the conduct of Fr. Niyomugabo.
After the RPF attacked, local leaders were calling Fr. Niyomugabo an inyenzi,16 like all
the Tutsis. They were against him, especially the bourgmestre, Ngezahayo, and the souspréfet [Joseph Ntegeyintwali]. But he didn’t react badly, was not daunted or discouraged.
He continued with his duties. As 1994 approached, the situation became worse for every
Tutsi, including Fr. Niyomugabo. We were all frightened.
One of the people who had special reason to be worried at the end of 1993 was Sister
Marie-Josée Mukabayire who was living in Cyanika, in the congregation of the Sisters of
Benebikira. She was working in a health centre near the parish.
In December 1993, there were death threats in Cyanika and a few people from Muganza
took refuge at Cyanika parish. They said a list of people to be killed had been drawn up,
and that I was among the people on the list, as was Fr. Joseph Niyomugabo. We thought
of fleeing toward Butare.
14
Joseph Karongozi was the father of André-Martin Karongozi.
Interviewed in Cyanika, 16 April 2012.
16
Meaning a snake, inyenzi was first used to refer to the RPF but after 1990, and especially during
genocide, it was used to mean all Tutsis.
15
12
The intervention of Fr. Niyomugabo put an end to those plans.
He stopped us, saying it could sow fear amongst the parishioners who felt threatened as
well. He telephoned the préfet and asked him to defuse the situation.
The violence, however, continued into the New Year, said Sr. Marie-Josée. She
mentioned a family whose home was burnt down in January 1994.
Fr. Niyomugabo had a small house built for the couple right next to the parish. This
couple was massacred in April 1994.17
According to Vincent, the efforts by local officials to label Fr. Niyomugabo as an RPF
mole gathered pace in the months leading up to the genocide.
They claimed he was collecting money for the RPF so they could accuse him of being an
accomplice of the inkotanyi. But he wasn’t. There were many spies following him around
at the time so there is no way he could have collected money. They were always trailing
him. They also hated him because in 1959 his father was killed, he himself later went to
Burundi, studied and then came back.
Whatever challenges Fr. Niyomugabo and the people of Cyanika had faced since October
1990, and whatever the political and social pressures they had been subjected to, no one
could possibly have imagined the events which were to unfold in their commune and
region between April and July 1994.
17
Interviewed in Kabuga, 6 December 2005.
13
2
“IT‟S SERIOUS THIS TIME”
7-20 April 1994
The death of President Juvénal Habyarimana on the evening of 6 April 1994, when the
plane in which he was travelling was shot down near Kigali airport, would prove to be a
pivotal moment in the history of Rwanda, with far-reaching consequences extending
beyond the borders of Rwanda. His death was immediately attributed by Radio Rwanda,
and the influential and inflammatory Radio Télévision Libre des Mille Collines (RTLM),
to the RPF, and in the political context of the time, by definition to all Tutsis. Within
hours, roadblocks went up in some regions of the country and Tutsis became the targets
of suspicion, anger and violence.
Karama, and the surrounding communes, were no different. Given the political tensions
since October 1990, some Tutsis chose to leave their homes on 7 April and to seek safety
in numbers at the Parish of Cyanika. Others initially slept in the bushes and returned to
their homes during the day. They came from different sectors of Karama, but also from
the communes of Rukondo and Kinyamakara. However, they lost confidence with each
passing day, as homes were razed to the ground, neighbours refused to hide them and
they learned of the deaths of people they knew. Increasingly, they saw the parish as their
only hope.
But getting to the parish was no easy matter. A network of roadblocks, and the
omnipresence of interahamwe wielding machetes and clubs, were formidable obstacles.
Disoriented by fear, families scattered, making it more difficult to make decisions.
Juvénal Gasasira, a driver at Cyanika health centre, mentioned one roadblock he
considered particularly forbidding.
There was a roadblock very near the home of the deputy-préfet, Ntegeyintwali, where a
lot of Tutsis who were coming to seek shelter at the parish were massacred. 18
Jean-Damascène Bizimana had left Cyanika by 1994, and was studying in Switzerland.
But he had maintained contact with Fr. Niyomugabo and said they communicated by
telephone on 7 April.
He told me there were already Tutsis at the parish and that homes were burning. He said
he thought Tutsis could be killed in large numbers. He told me that even the local
authorities were participating in the planning meetings.
18
Interviewed in Cyanika, 5 January 2005.
14
Offering Shelter and a Warm Welcome
The refugees who managed to reach the parish were assured of a warm welcome by Fr.
Niyomugabo. Because of the large number of people who began to arrive as early as the
7th, he asked for assistance from the nuns in the Benebikira convent nearby, as Sr. Renata
Kanziga recalled.
Fr. Niyomugabo made it possible for the refugees, who came from all corners, to get
settled. He distributed the vegetables we had so they would have something to eat. He
called us over to help them as well because there were more and more refugees as time
passed. He tried to share out the rooms as best as he could, and gave his office to the
most vulnerable—the sick and women with small children. He was not able to take care
of everyone because there were simply too many. With everything he had to do for the
refugees, he didn’t have time to rest for even a moment. Night and day became
indistinguishable for him. 19
Sr. Marie-Josée is grateful for his prompt response in evacuating their colleagues.
On 10 April, we were told that the nuns in our congregation, in the convent of Kirambi,
were facing danger. Without thinking about the fact that he could be killed, he went out
to bring them to the parish.
“He thought much more about others than about his own life which was very
precarious at that time.”
Sr. Renata agrees they owe him a debt for his timely intervention.
The nuns in our congregation, in Kirambi, felt very threatened as people were trying to
kill them. Father Niyomugabo took his vehicle and went to bring them to Cyanika. He
helped others without thinking about the risks he was taking.
One of the first arrivals at the parish was Marianne Nikuze, then aged 12, who was living
in Birambo, sector Cyanika. By 3:00 p.m. on the 7 th, the family abandoned their home
and headed for Cyanika. She left first, together with her young brothers and sisters, after
they saw people burning down houses. They met many others on the road on their way to
the parish. She said they ran into the bourgmestre, Désiré Ngezahayo, on the way and
stopped to ask him what had happened.
He told us: “Wait, you will see. Your time has come.”
We continued along our way. Once we reached Gatyazo, there were lots of people on the
road. They asked us: “Do you think you are going into a boulder where we can’t enter?
Don’t fool yourselves. We will follow you and kill you.” We continued to Cyanika
parish.
19
Interviewed in Byimana, Gitarama, 23 March 2006.
15
Marianne Nikuze, Photo by Petterik Wiggers
After a few days, Marianne’s stepmother, her grandmother and uncle joined them. Her
father and other men remained outside the church looking after the cows, but joined the
others inside the compound after two days because, she said, “they realized things were
becoming serious.”
“For us,” said Xavérine Mukansoro, “the genocide began on 10 April.” She lived in
sector Gikoni, commune Rukondo. Alarmed by the reaction of neighbours with whom
they had previously been on friendly terms, she visited a number of Tutsi families to
gauge their mood and exchange ideas.
I told them: “Let’s take refuge in Cyanika. Remember that in 1963 they didn’t kill the
ones who were in the churches.” They said that they didn’t want to go to Cyanika, and
that they had Hutu friends who would protect them. Three families gave me their
children. The adults were to come the next day. I took my children and mother-in-law.
We left our house that Sunday, at 8:00 p.m. There were more than 12 of us. My husband
had died of poisoning a week before.
They reached the parish on the morning of Monday, the 11 th.
Fr. Niyomugabo said to us: “Where will you hide? It’s serious this time.” We met others
who had come from Bunyambiriri, some with arms cut off, others covered with wounds.
Fr. Niyomugabo approached us and asked that we pray fervently to God.
16
Dominique, aged 12, was playing with other children on the 7 th, but said he was struck by
“the change in people’s behaviour,” saying he noticed that “people were separating.” The
situation became increasingly precarious.
Houses were burning at a neighbouring village between the 7th and the 10th, and I saw
refugees coming to Cyanika parish to seek refuge with Fr. Niyomugabo. So I knew, even
as a child, that something was very wrong. Between the 10th and the 12th, the
interahamwe started killing in my village and Tutsis were not sleeping in their homes.
As in other families, the strategies used by parents and grandparents during times of
uncertainty in the past influenced decisions.
During the troubles of 1959 our parents were told to seek refuge at the commune office or
the parish, so this is what we tried to do.
Dominique first went to the sector office, but said he left after he saw Tutsis who were
being beaten. He attributes the fact that he was ignored to his age. He then passed by his
family home, only to discover that it had been set ablaze. He did, however, find his older
brother, Athanase, and together they tried to make their way to the parish.
It was difficult because the interahamwe were on the road beating and killing Tutsis. We
used small paths instead of the main road where there were roadblocks. We came upon
some interahamwe killing a cow. They were distracted so they didn’t see us when we
slipped into a sorghum field. We met other militia who were looting homes, but their
hands were full of the things they had stolen so they didn’t try to kill us. We made it to
Cyanika very early in the morning, when there were not many people out yet. We were
welcomed and other refugees were happy to see us alive. Because of what our parents
told us—that once we got to the church we wouldn’t be killed—I felt safe.
There were too many refugees at Cyanika. There were people everywhere, in the church,
school and even the dispensary. But Fr. Niyomugabo took good care of us and he didn’t
want to leave. In the evening, he had rice cooked for the children, but we had no bowls so
we ate out of our hands.
Later, Dominique’s brother, Athanase, paid the gendarmes guarding the parish to bring
their mother, three of their sisters and a cousin.
Worried by the sight of homes on fire, Clemence and her husband also went to the parish.
She said Fr. Niyomugabo gave her family one of the priests’ residences.
He walked around and encouraged us every day, saying the misery would end. He also
tried to get help from other people, but at one point the gendarmerie took his car so he
couldn’t travel.
17
Rémy Kamugire was 15 in 1994. His family lived behind the parish and they made their
way there on 15 April.
Fr. Niyomugabo received us with open arms. He looked after all the refugees, giving us
rice and beans to eat. Some people came to the parish with absolutely nothing, and he
always tried to find them something to cook with.
He was always by our side and tried to keep our spirits up. He kept away the officials
who came all the time, telling him to send the refugees to the office of the sous-préfecture
or to Murambi where, they said, “they will find security.” But the priest preferred to keep
us close to him; he didn’t want to abandon us. 20
Rémy Kamugire, Photo by Petterik Wiggers
20
Interviewed in Butare town, 5 December 2005.
18
Dalie Gacendeli was not at home in commune Muko on 7 April as she had gone to visit
relatives in Gikongoro town. She was told that her entire family had been killed on the
evening of the 7th, which forced her to think about seeking a place of refuge.
I went to Cyanika because I knew Father Joseph Niyomugabo. I arrived on the 9 th. Some
people had come to the parish, but the situation was still relatively calm. He was a good
friend of my parents; he used to visit us often and we used to visit him.
He took me in and comforted me a lot, because he knew that I had just lost all my family.
That, at least, is what we thought, because at the time we didn’t have clear information.
He gave me a lot of advice. He told me I would live, even without my parents, because
friends of the family would take care of me.
“In the short time I spent in Cyanika, Fr. Niyomugabo was like a parent to
me.”
He did everything he could for me. It was he who advised me to go with the first refugees
who left for Butare, following the departure of the nuns for Butare.
Providing Food, Water, Medical Care, Moral and Spiritual Comfort
For the clergy who suddenly found themselves caring for thousands of refugees in April
1994, finding sufficient food and water, and ensuring adequate medical care for the sick
and wounded, were major challenges. The fact that places of sanctuary were surrounded
by militiamen precluded the possibility of going outside to buy provisions. The refugees
included the elderly, children and pregnant women who required particular attention.
Living in fear brought its own trauma, making it both necessary and important to offer
solace and spiritual comfort.
Fr. Niyomugabo was aware, as early as 7 April, that he would need additional provisions.
He asked for assistance from the nuns at the Benebikira convent, as confirmed by Sr.
Marie-Josée.
On 7 April, Fr. Niyomugabo called on us to help him to welcome the refugees. He gave
them something to eat. He attended much more to children and pregnant women.
Rémy regrets that Fr. Niyomugabo did not have more help, making him all the more
appreciative of his efforts.
He was on his own to take care of the wounded, transporting them to the health centre to
make sure they received the necessary care. He went out of his way to find food for the
refugees. He even tried to contact officials to ensure our security.
He had many opportunities to escape, but he knew very well how much his presence
meant to us. Because of him, we had food and shelter. The other priests did not show any
interest in us.
19
Rations were necessarily limited, said Clemence.
Fr. Niyomugabo was kind to all the refugees and he gave us cooked rice and beans. We
only ate once a day because there were too many of us. We had water, but it was cut off
by the interahamwe after we had been there only a few days.
The effort to repair the damage to the water supply brought about consequences which
were intended as a warning.
Fr. Niyomugabo sent someone to try and fix the water, but the interahamwe killed him
because he was trying to help Tutsis.
At a certain moment, the stocks of the parish were almost depleted, and Fr. Niyomugabo
began to reserve what was left for the children and the sick.
Dominique, who praised Fr. Niyomugabo for making sure children were a priority in the
distribution of food, said the disruption in the water supply was a major blow. His older
brother paid local residents to buy water for them.
Jean-Damascène said he spoke to Fr. Niyomugabo again on 12 April, by which time his
own mother was also at the parish.
On 12 April, he told me there were a lot of Tutsis at the parish, including my mother. I
spoke to her. He told me the lack of food was a serious problem.
12 April, he added “was the last time I had contact with him.”
The consideration he showed to people with special needs is one of the qualities which
most struck Sr. Marie-Josée.
There was a pregnant woman who was about to deliver. He separated her from the other
refugees and gave her a room with two other refugees who were ill. He was always
worried about us.
When a woman, wounded by a machete right next to the church could no longer walk to
the church, Fr. Joseph went out with some refugees and carried her in his arms.
Afterwards, he called me to give her medical care.
Vincent said he arrived at the parish in the guise of an interahamwe. After his brother was
killed at their home, two Hutu neighbours accompanied him to the church on 16 April,
and suggested that he walk between them and carry a machete as a precautionary
measure. The ruse worked and he entered the church without difficulty.
Fr. Niyomugabo gave mass every day, outside in the compound. Afterwards, he went
around giving words of encouragement. In his sermons he taught the gospel and
sensitized parents who had children who were not baptized. He asked them to bring the
children so they could receive the sacrament.
20
Dalie said the refugees found consolation in the actions and words of Fr. Niyomugabo.
He said mass every morning to confide us to God. He talked to us in ways which
provided relief to the refugees who were so scared.
Standing Firm: Staying When He Could Have Left
As the security situation in Cyanika deteriorated, news was also filtering in about the
widespread killing of Tutsis elsewhere in Gikongoro and throughout the country. By midApril, it had become increasingly evident that the chances of survival for the refugees at
the parish was, at best, minimal. Fr. Niyomugabo himself was fully conscious of the
gravity of the situation and for this reason urged others to leave, including the nuns from
the Benebikira convent. But he himself chose to stay, despite the risks and the pleas of his
fellow-clergy.
By all accounts, Sr. Marie-Josée was particularly sought after, and was strongly advised
to leave Cyanika. She said she tried to persuade Fr. Niyomugabo to go at the same time.
When I told Fr. Joseph we should go to find refuge elsewhere, he responded that he could
not leave the refugees.
“He added that he had spent years with these parishioners, and that he did
not have the strength to abandon them when they were in such a difficult
situation.”
He asked us not to worry about him and to save ourselves quickly. He concluded that the
situation was indeed serious and he advised us to leave Cyanika. We begged him to go
with us, but he refused. We did not have strong hearts like his, and we left him with his
parishioners.
He then, she said, put measures in place to help her and her family get out of Cyanika.
As it was difficult for me to get to Gikongoro, he called the préfet and told him that I
needed to come to the diocese to get food for the refugees, because the stocks at the
parish were empty. The préfet came personally to look for me. I left with my two younger
sisters and three other children. He left us at the diocese of Gikongoro.
Sr. Marie-Josée mentioned a subsequent opportunity for Fr. Niyomugabo to leave
Cyanika, which he also turned down.
The other nuns had stayed at Cyanika, and the Mother Superior came from Butare to
fetch them. Fr. Niyomugabo once again refused to go with them.
21
Sr. Renata was one of the nuns who left with their Mother Superior. She too, she said,
tried to convince Fr. Niyomugabo that he could not afford to remain in Cyanika.
On the day we left for Butare, an old man named Joseph took my arm and led me to the
back of the church. He told me we were going to be killed that day. He didn’t tell me
where he received that information.
He told me this while crying and begged me to inform Father Niyomugabo and to ask
him to go with us. I said I doubted that I would be able to convince him, and suggested
that he should intervene. He replied that we should both speak with him in order to show
him how urgent it was that we flee, given the reality of the situation.
She gave details of the exchange with Fr. Niyomugabo.
I went to see him in his room and found him throwing papers in the trash bin. I said to
him: “They are going to kill us. Look for a way to save yourself because they are going to
torture you.” He told me that he was not going to run away, that Straton had also been a
man. Straton Gakwaya was a priest, the bursar of the diocese of Gikongoro who was
killed on 7 April at the Centre Christus [in Kigali]. He added: “I cannot desert all these
refugees simply to save my own life. But you must tell your fellow nuns to leave this
place immediately.” Disoriented, I told him “But you will be massacred!” He replied: “I
will be worried if you stay here with me. I am a man, and I will try to defend myself.
Take as many people with you as you can.” We left with the wounded 21, and we went to
link up with Sister Josée at Gikongoro to proceed with her towards Butare.
Dalie believes it was the commitment he had made to God which would not allow him to
turn his back on the refugees.
“He often told us that he could not abandon us to save his life, because God
would ask him: „Where did you leave the flock who ran to you?‟”
He had the means to leave Cyanika before the massacre. He definitely didn’t know
whether he would be able to survive, but he could at least have tried if he had wanted to.
Instead of worrying about himself, he lived in fear that the refugees would be massacred
in his presence, according to Dalie.
He was always concerned that we would be killed before his very eyes. He was
constantly telling me that he was frightened of seeing me being killed in front of him.
Dalie said he advised her to look for an alternative place of refuge “because he could see
that we were going to die.” Dalie left for Butare on 17 April.
He gave me some money and told me that he would keep on praying for me.
21
According to Sr. Renata, most of the wounded who left with them were later killed at Butare University
Hospital.
22
Dominique, although only a young boy, understood the efforts by Fr. Niyomugabo to
raise their morale.
One evening he gathered us together to pray for us. Fr. Niyomugabo even planned
baptisms for young babies.
Survivors who remained at the parish until 21 April all agree that a grenade attack, on or
about 14 April, which killed a number of people, including the husband of Espérance,
was a turning point in Cyanika, and served to undermine the confidence of Fr.
Niyomugabo. Espérance, who knew him well and who had been at the parish since 8
April, said “he became discouraged.”
All the refugees were afraid and disheartened, but Fr. Niyomugabo kept trying to raise
our spirits even though he was feeling low himself.
Dominique became aware of the changes at the parish.
The adults sat in small groups to discuss events, but as the days went by they were
discouraged and they didn’t pray or talk as before.
Nevertheless, Fr. Niyomugabo remained at the parish, by the side of the refugees.
23
3
“YOUR HOUR HAS COME”
The Massacre of 21 April 1994 and the Murder of Fr.
Niyomugabo on 24 April 1994
In the early hours of 21 April 1994, close to 50,000 Tutsi men, women and children are
thought to have died in a carefully planned massacre in a school in Murambi, on the
outskirts of Gikongoro town, in the commune of Nyamagabe. The killings were
organized by military officers and officials who had prepared the ground well. They
included, among many others:
Laurent Bucyibaruta, the préfet of Gikongoro;
Joseph Ntegeyintwali, the deputy préfet of the sous-préfecture of Karaba
which made up the communes of Karama, Kinyamakara and Rukondo;
Captain Faustin Sebuhura, the deputy head of the gendarmerie in Gikongoro;
Col. Aloys Simba, a retired army officer who was appointed in 1994 as head
of the civil defence for the préfectures of Gikongoro and Butare;
Frodouald Havugimana, a deputy-préfet in Gikongoro;
Félicien Semakwavu, the bourgmestre of commune Nyamagabe;
Emmanuel Nteziryayo, the bourgmestre of commune Mudasomwa;
Désiré Ngezahayo, the bourgmestre of commune Karama;
Dénys Kamodoka, the director of the Kitabi tea factory in commune
Mudasomwa. 22
Some of the survivors ran to Cyanika, only to be killed along the way. Others drowned in
a nearby river which had flooded during the rainy season. Those who entered the
compound of the parish had every reason to consider themselves fortunate. But they had
no time to share their experiences with the refugees at the parish before they were, in the
words of Grâce Mukantarindwa, “plunged back into the horror,” living through a second
massacre prepared by the same forces which had devastated Murambi.
Our plan proved to be a dream. Firstly, very few survivors of the massacre in Murambi
reached Cyanika. And, by the time we got there, the soldiers and interahamwe had
already come to kill people, as they’d just done in Murambi. We were met by the sound
of gunfire and exploding grenades. We could hear nothing but the crackle of firearms.
22
Laurent Bucyibaruta is living in France. Joseph Ntegeyintwali is in prison in Rwanda. Captain Faustin
Sebuhura had been fighting in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) with the armed group known
as the Democratic Forces for the Liberation of Rwanda (FDLR) until he returned to Rwanda in 2010 when
he was very ill and died shortly afterwards. Frodouald Havugimana has also been with the FDLR in the
DRC. Col. Aloys Simba has been convicted to a sentence of 25 years by the International Criminal
Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR). Félicien Semakwavu is believed to be living in the DRC. Désiré Ngezahayo
has been tried and convicted in Rwanda and is serving a sentence of life imprisonment. Emmanuel
Nteziryayo was arrested in the UK on 28 December 2006. He was released after a court in the UK rejected
a request for extradition to Rwanda. Dénys Kamodoka remains at large.
24
We tried to turn back but the killers had already surrounded us and they forced us into the
courtyard at the centre of the priests’ houses. They threw stones at us, and anyone who
tried to run away was immediately shot. Some soldiers who’d come from Murambi were
there in a Suzuki. I’d seen them in Murambi, but I didn’t know who they were.
Grâce drew some comfort from discovering the presence of Fr. Niyomugabo.
Fr. Joseph Niyomugabo had refused to abandon the refugees. 23
The men who inspired, led and armed the soldiers and interahamwe in Murambi were
pleased with the “work” at Murambi, which was considered as completed by about 10:30
a.m. Bucyibaruta, Semakwavu, Simba and Sebuhura congratulated them. The militiamen
from commune Mudasomwa, in particular, were judged to have distinguished
themselves. But, they were told, there was still work to be done. Vincent de Paul
Nsabiyera, head of a vaccination programme in Gikongoro who spoke of his own role in
the killings, summed up the speech given by Bucyibaruta.
The préfet thanked everyone, especially the interahamwe from Mudasomwa, for what
had been achieved. Cars were put at the disposal of the bravest so they could go and lend
a hand to the militiamen of Karama who had also begun to exterminate the thousands of
Tutsis at Cyanika.24
Emmanuel Nyirimbuga, who admits that he made a significant contribution to the killings
in Murambi, also listened as the men were urged to proceed to Cyanika.
I realized we were being backed by all the authorities. Bucyibaruta, Semakwavu and
Sebuhura expressed their appreciation to us, especially to the interahamwe who’d come
from Mudasomwa. They were asked to track down the Tutsis who had eluded us and
made it to Cyanika. They drove off in the Daihatsu owned by the tea factory in Kitabi.
They’d been using these vehicles throughout the night. The militiamen from Mudasomwa
were promised they’d be allowed to clean out the shops in Gikongoro town once the
Cyanika massacre was over.25
Juvénal Gasasira, the driver at Cyanika health centre cited earlier, said he witnessed the
arrival of the survivors from Murambi, and their vain efforts to warn and advise the
refugees at Cyanika to try and get away in time.
The worst happened on 21 April. I saw everything with my own eyes. Very early in the
morning, the first survivors of the massacres at Murambi arrived at the Parish of Cyanika
where they thought that they would find a sanctuary. The people who came from
Murambi were so fearful that they told the other refugees to leave and to head for
Nyanza. Given what they had just experienced in Murambi, they had little doubt that they
were going to be killed.
23
Interviewed in Kigali, 26 January 2004.
Interviewed in Gikongoro town, 14 January 2004.
25
Interviewed in Gikongoro town, 20 January 2004.
24
25
But confidence in Fr. Niyomugabo, he commented, provided those who had been at the
parish with the strength to stay.
The refugees at Cyanika were still hopeful. They were still with Fr. Niyomugabo. Some
nevertheless were courageous enough to make a run for it. But I don’t know if they were
able to venture far from the parish before they were killed.
Gasasira described the massacre of 21 April.
There was a huge attack and the assailants were armed to the teeth. There were soldiers
with guns and peasants with traditional weapons. They killed until 5:15 p.m. There were
corpses everywhere in the courtyard and inside the buildings. Those on the point of death
were subsequently finished off by those with traditional weapons. Ntegeyintwali and
Captain Sebuhura were particularly active in the killings.
Even after the massacre began, Xavérine said Fr. Niyomugabo tried to bolster their
morale.
Fr. Niyomugabo told us: “Keep praying, say the Lord’s Prayer, put yourself in God’s
hands and do not cry out.” After a few minutes, the interahamwe were yelling: “May the
blood that will flow be a curse on Tutsis and their children.” And so they began to shoot
at us. We didn’t have anything but bricks as weapons. They took off the doors with their
rifles.
Marianne drew succour from his words.
The day they exterminated the refugees at Murambi, Fr. Niyomugabo came and told us:
“Be strong and pray. They have killed the people at Murambi, and it’s certain that we are
also going to be killed. But don’t be afraid: pray and if we die, we will die at peace.” So
we began to pray and shortly afterwards, the militia were already there.
Safeguarding Fr. Niyomugabo
Once the killing started, Juvénal Gasasira took the decision to save the life of Fr.
Niyomugabo, as well as that of another priest who was at the parish, Fr. Musoni, as well
as and two young deacons who had come to spend the Easter holiday at the parish. By
then, the other clergy had left.
I put them in the pharmacy at the health centre. I used to bring them food during the
night. They stayed there for three days.
Spéciose Mukangenzi a trader in Cyanika, had been at the parish for sometime on the
21st. She said she witnessed the arrival of Fr. Niyomugabo at the pharmacy.
26
I fled to Cyanika health centre, about 20 metres from the parish, where I saw
Niyomugabo accompanied by a man named Gasasira. They went into the pharmacy. In
that instant, someone hit me with a machete, and I fell unconscious. 26
Spéciose Mukangenzi in front of the Cyanika memorial, Photo by Petterik Wiggers
24 April 1994: The Murder of Fr. Niyomugabo
Fr. Niyomugabo had only spent three days at the pharmacy when he was killed. The man
who hid him, Gasasira, provided details about his death.
On 24 April, one of the prisoners who were gathering up the corpses passed behind the
pharmacy. He pushed open the window and saw them inside. He cried out to call the
others. There were already suspicions that they might be there as I never left the place.
The deputy-préfet came immediately with other people. They immediately struck Fr.
Niyomugabo and one of the deacons with a machete. Fr. Niyomugabo had been stripped
naked by the prisoners. He, the deacon and two girls who were discovered near the parish
were killed on the spot. Fr. Musoni and the other deacon were not touched. I saw they
were asking them to produce their ID cards. They were taken to the bishopric of
Gikongoro. The deacon, Ignace, was ordained a priest and is still alive. Fr. Musoni was
murdered in Gikongoro.
26
Interviewed in Cyanika, 28 March 2006.
27
Juvénal Gasasira, Photo by Petterik Wiggers
28
The prisoner who discovered Fr. Niyomugabo’s hideout is Jean de Dieu Kayigamba who
was working at Cyanika health centre. His uncle, Juvénal Mudenge, who himself admits
to active participation in the killings at Cyanika, confirmed the presence of Ntegeyintwali
when Fr. Niyomugabo was killed.
My nephew, Jean de Dieu Kayigamba, revealed Fr. Niyomugabo’s whereabouts. His
clothes were ripped off and his naked body was stretched out on the road, in front of
Ntegeyintwali, who then took all the medicines home. 27
After the genocide, Sr. Marie-Josée succeeded in finding where Fr. Niyomugabo’s body
had been buried.
It was in January 1995 that I found his corpse, after paying quite a lot of money and after
a long search. I was shocked to discover that he had been left naked.
For the survivors of Cyanika, for whom he did so much, and meant so much, Fr.
Niyomugabo continues to live on in their hearts, as the fulsome tributes below show.
A headstone marking the mass graves at Cyanika parish. Photo by Petterik Wiggers
27
Interviewed in Gikongoro town, 5 January 2005.
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4
“YOU WILL REMAIN IN OUR HEARTS”
Tributes to Fr. Joseph Niyomugabo
For survivors, paying tribute to the men and women who took a stand against the
genocide of 1994, and who protected its intended victims, is seen both as a moral
responsibility and a cathartic experience. The people who knew Fr. Joseph Niyomugabo
before the genocide, and those he helped during their darkest hours, in April 1994,
welcomed the opportunity to remember him and to honour him.
Agnès Usengumuremyi is one of only two people in Fr. Niyomugabo’s family who
survived. Her mother, Josephine Nyirakabuga, was his sister. As she grew up in her
grandmother’s house, she spent time with him when he was at home. Agnes’s younger
sister, Athanasie Nyirahabimana, was visiting her uncle in Cyanika during the genocide
and was killed there. She draws comfort from the fact that “people remember Fr.
Niyomugabo.”
During the commemoration week and on 24 April, people put flowers on his grave. When
they removed his remains to rebury him this year, they put him in the church and many
people came, wanting to show their respects. Because people wanted to see him and say
goodbye, we had them come, one by one, into the church where his remains were. I was
there to wash his bones and people were crying for him. After seeing his remains, I feel at
peace and find it easier to go to church and listen to the teachings of God.
People loved Fr. Niyomugabo because of his actions. He would build houses and pay
school fees for the very poor. When he was in Cyanika, pregnant women would come
and knock on his door at night when they were in labour and he would drive them to the
hospital.
I always think of him because he was helpful to everyone. 28
Fidèle Rwamuhizi, a nephew, is the other member of Fr. Niyomugabo’s family who
survived. He struggled to sum up the many different aspects of his uncle’s character.
It’s not easy to explain what Fr. Niyomugabo was like. He valued the truth and could
even die for his beliefs. He told local leaders that he didn’t like the discrimination against
Tutsis. He believed discrimination was wrong.
I visited him many times in Cyanika. The people of Cyanika loved him a lot, even though
they killed him. He helped people but he wasn’t someone who bragged about it and told
other people of his kindness. During mass, he liked to teach about love and he tried to
make sure everyone understood what he was saying. When he was preaching, he told
people about equality and said that discrimination was wrong. He was also different in
that he gave mass from out behind the pulpit. People liked this.
28
Interviewed in Kigali, 20 April 2012.
30
Even when he was young, he had many friends. If you were old or young, he knew how
to talk to you.
Fidèle remarked on his affinity with children.
He liked children. When he came to visit my parents, he always came with kids. He had
many friends. His students loved him and he also loved them. Even if the students were
on holiday, they would come to visit him.
He believes that he became a priest out of a desire to be of service.
He decided to be a priest of his own volition because he liked serving God and he wanted
to give to people more than he took for himself. I think he wanted to become a priest so
he could help people. 29
Many interviewees, including André-Martin Karongozi, commented upon the ease with
which he communicated with young people.
Fr. Niyomugabo was someone who communicated well with young and older people
alike.
My father was a primary school teacher and had been for 30 years, so the parents who
sent their children to his school knew him. But even my father had to visit Fr.
Niyomugabo because he was the head priest.
During the holidays we had to go and see our parish priests at home. We were expected
to go and greet them in the morning and show them our marks. It was a way of keeping
watch over us during the holidays. But with Fr. Niyomugabo, it was a pleasure. He was
happy not only to meet with community leaders, but also with young people. He would
even make remarks about how we had grown up and changed. This astonished me
because he saw many people every day, and I wondered how he could remember small
details about me. He paid attention to individuals. He also had a good sense of humour
and was always smiling, even when he was very serious.
He also commented on his unusual combination of speaking his mind, while doing so in a
tactful manner.
When the RPF attacked in 1990, Fr. Niyomugabo was able to say what he thought but in
a nice way. If you were doing bad or good, he would find a way to tell you this. He once
wrote a newspaper article about a bourgmestre who had been dismissed because he
wasn’t Catholic. Fr. Niyomugabo thought the bourgmestre suffered an injustice and he
wasn’t afraid to say so. He was a man who said what he needed to say, even if he knew it
would cause a problem.
29
Interviewed in Kigali, 19 April 2012.
31
Sr. Marie-Josée Mukabayire reflected on the speech Fr. Niyomugabo gave when he
celebrated the 25th anniversary of being in the priesthood.
It was in August 1993, and signs of possible violence had become apparent in Gikongoro
in general. He spoke the following words: “On my anniversary, what I ask of all the
inhabitants of Cyanika, is that each person searches for peace there, where he is, for his
fellow man, for one can never put a price on peace, or find a substitute for peace.”
The invitation was in itself, she added, an eloquent commentary on his relations with
people.
He wrote: “Your child/ father/ friend/ (choose whatever is suitable) invites you to be
united with him to celebrate.” These words really touched me and showed me his
simplicity.
If it were not for the vigilance of Fr. Niyomugabo, Sr. Marie-Josée is not certain she
would be alive today.
I will always be grateful to him for protecting me from death since August 1993, and
even during the genocide, a time when I felt alone and overwhelmed by indescribable
fear.
This priest was a hero and a parent to a lot of people. He was a worthy disciple of Christ
in his everyday actions. The legacy he has left for us is the responsibility to fight for
peace for our fellow men. He chose to give his life, instead of abandoning others whose
pain he shared. He could have left Cyanika, and possibly died elsewhere, but he did not
do so.
Sr. Renata Kanziga arrived at the Benebikira congregation in Cyanika in September of
1992, and was working at the adult literacy centre known as CERAI.
Father Niyomugabo was truly a hero. He was killed because of the love he had for
Christians. He could have easily left them, and told them to seek refuge somewhere else,
and added that he could not even guarantee his own survival.
Sr. Renata says she owes her life to Fr. Niyomugabo.
We must thank him for our lives because it is he who told us to get away. We asked him
to go with us and he refused because he did not want to expose us in danger. He was a
saintly priest. His sainthood was demonstrated by his love for God and for God’s
children, like the scripture says. He followed the example of Jesus who sacrificed himself
for all of us. Fr. Niyomugabo also sacrificed himself for everyone who was being
threatened around him. He was a fearless hero who always spoke the truth, even if the
truth hurt influential people or people stronger than him. He did this in his sermons and in
his conversations. He never minced his words and that is why the authorities were so
unhappy with him. Even during meetings with the bishop, he was not afraid to speak the
truth.
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He was an exemplary priest. I am sure that Christ has received him well because he
earned it. I have a lot of things to say to him, but I’m not able to recount them all now
because there are so many. During all of the years we spent together, he never ceased to
amaze me.
What struck Isaïe Iyamuremye is a conviction that “Fr. Niyomugabo loved people and
helped them.”
He paid the school fees of my brother so he could attend secondary school. He did so
because we were a poor family. He also paid the school fees of Ngirumpatse’s child.
Etienne Bisengimana said he named his son after Fr. Niyomugabo out of a sense of
gratitude and respect.
Fr. Niyomugabo had a lot of love for people. I wouldn’t have finished my secondary
school education if it weren’t for him. I gave his name to my son.
Marianne Nikuze believes that the exceptional nature of Fr. Niyomugabo’s courage
should be recognized by the Catholic Church and he should be canonised.
What makes Fr. Niyomugabo particularly special is the fact that he stayed with us, at a
time when all the other priests had left for Butare. Even those who were not targeted left,
but he stayed put and died alongside our relatives. He could have left with the others, but
he refused to abandon us. I remember him the same way I remember my relatives who
died in Cyanika.
Even though I was still young, I could see how much Fr. Niyomugabo cared about his
parishioners. He was what a priest should be. He showed his love for us at the most
difficult of times, when everyone was trying to save his own skin.
“I have never seen in anyone else the devotion and sacrifice that he showed
us at that time. Even though he has died, we need to show him how grateful
we are.”
Grown-ups did not seem to be surprised by his behaviour, for they said he was a
dedicated priest even before the genocide, fulfilling his vocation as he should. I hope that
one day he will be canonised.
Dominique Safari reiterated similar sentiments.
When other Catholic clergy from Butare came to Cyanika and tried to take him to safety,
Fr. Niyomugabo said no. He didn’t want to leave us alone because he wanted to protect
us. He showed us love and cared for us.
Unable to think of words which capture her feelings, Vérédiane Mukamugeme said she
wanted to “entrust the soul of Fr. Niyomugabo to God.”
He died with our families because he didn’t want to desert them. I will always pray for
him, just as I am praying for him today. He did everything he could. He went beyond the
33
force of human beings and more than fulfilled his role as a priest. Normally, people are
governed by self-interest. With Fr. Niyomugabo, it was the opposite.
For Dalie Gacendeli, Fr. Niyomugabo has a special place in her heart.
Fr. Niyomugabo was not like the others who wanted to save their lives at any cost. He
remained close to us and he knew that he faced the same dangers as we did. I don’t have
the words to express what he was to me: he was like a parent to me.
“What can I say about Fr. Niyomugabo?, asked Spéciose Mukangenzi, at a loss to know
where to begin.
It’s really impossible to tell you everything that he did, to speak about his kindness. If I
had all day I would be able to tell you something. Fr. Niyomugabo was like a parent to
all the people at Cyanika parish. He swore to never leave his Christians.
Even before the genocide, he was always good and kind towards everyone. He was good
to the poor. He gave to each person according to his needs. Those who killed him were
the same ones to whom he had given food and clothing.
He could have escaped the killings. He could have easily left the parish like so many
other religious figures who were in Cyanika, but he decided to stay with us. He was a
Tutsi and he knew Tutsis were going to be exterminated. Yet, he found the courage to
remain with us. He was a noble man with a noble heart. No words can describe my
feelings towards him. Only God knows what he did. God alone saw what he did. I don’t
doubt that he has received his reward and that he is royalty in heaven. I can do nothing
but pray for him. I ask God to protect him.
She put forward a suggestion to the government for consideration.
The government should recognize Fr. Niyomugabo and give him a place among the
national heroes.
“I must,” said Rémy Kamugire, “insist on the extraordinary heroism shown by Fr.
Niyomugabo.”
Even though I was only 15 at the time, I remember everything that happened.
He could have left Cyanika, but he didn’t walk out on us. To be as brave as he was, under
the circumstances which existed at the time, is something out of the ordinary. The fact of
staying in the midst of Tutsis who were meant to be wiped out shows unusual courage.
He knew very well that he could be killed once the interahamwe came. I don’t know what
I, as an individual, can do to thank him for the kindness he showed to the refugees
gathered at the Parish of Cyanika. There is no reward for the goodness of Fr.
Niyomugabo and for the humanity in his heart. I pray to the Almighty God that he keeps
Fr. Niyomugabo by his side. He was everything to us. Even if we lost our relatives, he
did the best he could to save us, whatever the risk to his own life.
34
For François Masabo, it was an honour to have served under Fr. Niyomugabo as a young
priest.
Fr. Niyomugabo was special, someone of noble character. Anyone who knew him and
survived would remember him. He always had time for people and he was humble and
discreet. I was constantly impressed by his kindness and capacity for organization. It was
a privilege to serve under him.
He was also very respectful. He believed every human being deserved to be treated with
consideration. Sometimes he wondered if he gave some people too much respect because
many times he was disappointed by people.
Senator Jean-Damascène Bizimana has no doubt about the contribution Fr. Niyomugabo
made to the lives of people in Cyanika.
When Fr. Niyomugabo was at Cyanika, there was no distance between priest and
parishioner. Instead, there was hope. He valued the truth and didn’t tell lies. He was kind,
smart and people loved him a lot when he was at Cyanika.
The murder of Father Joseph Niyomugabo was tragic, as was that of every other victim of
the atrocities of 1994. But the death of Fr. Niyomugabo in Cyanika, when he had every
possibility to escape, demonstrates the extent of his compassion, fortitude and loyalty to
his parishioners and the refugees who looked to him for succour and protection. For this,
he should be remembered by all of us. “He Never Ceased to Amaze Me”: A Tribute to
Father Joseph Niyomugabo reflects the love and gratitude with which he is remembered
by the survivors of the Parish of Cyanika, and by all those who consider themselves
fortunate to have known him.
The struggle against the genocide was lonely and extremely dangerous. The story of Fr.
Niyomugabo, and of the few men and women who acted with similar courage, provides a
glimmer of hope in the legacy of grief and despair left by those who turned churches,
schools, hospitals and homes into graveyards.
35
The exhumed mass graves at Cyanika. The building in the background is the
memorial where Fr. Niyomugabo is buried alongside those he tried to protect.
Photo by Petterik Wiggers
36
