Citation
Consequences of the genocide
Name: Uwayisenga
Cellule: Bisesero
Sector: Rwankuba
Commune: Gisovu/ Kibuye
Age: 10 years old
My suffering began in April 1994. It started when my father came home one day. He
scolded us and said “Are you still at the house?” He told us to go to the hill at once
where the others were. We ran over, taking the cows with us, although we had to
leave all our other possessions at the house.
When we got to the hill, I heard people saying that Habyarimana was dead and
that this was the reason why the Tutsis were now being hunted down. I asked my
mother if we were Tutsis and she said that we were.
We remained on the hill, trembling with fear. No-one could sleep. The little
children were crying a lot. There were many of us there.
For the first few days, our mother provided us with food. The men went to get
provisions from the fields at night. As the days went on, great numbers of militiamen,
policemen and soldiers came to kill us. People asked us to collect stones. We put all
the stones together and the men used them to try and chase away the militiamen.
When the militiamen attacked us, we immediately scattered around the area,
and the children were obliged to leave their mother’s sides as they fled. One day the
militia came to attack us and when I saw them, I ran. There was one militiaman who
saw me running and he came up behind me to kill me. He was a strong man and he
caught me. I no longer had the strength to run because I was hungry and tired. When
the militiaman caught up with me, I was astonished because I realised that he was a
friend. His name was Hazigama and he was from the sector of Rwankuba. Before the
genocide began, Hazigama used to come to our house everyday. He farmed my
father’s fields and he received a salary.
Despite the fact that he worked for my father, I had a lot of respect for him.
When he finished work, he used to come to the house and I often gave him water so
that he could wash himself. My mother gave him food. We used to play with him and
he was like a brother to us even though we were not from the same family. He
received his salary on time and we never had any problems.
Hazigama was just about to kill me so I asked him why he wanted to do this
when I had done nothing to hurt him. I begged him to take pity on me. He said
nothing but just hit me on the head with a machete. He had bits of wood in his hand
which he stuck into my face. When he thought I was dead, he left.
I lost a lot of blood. I was like a corpse because I was totally dehydrated. I had
cuts all over my body as well.
I lay down in the grass. There were bodies next to me. I did not know what
was happening. Thankfully my mother came with some water. She tried to wash my
injuries with warm water although I don’t know where she got it from. She put me in
the bushes and I stayed there because I could’nt run anymore. I smelt horrible because
of my untreated injuries. I no longer had the strength to get the flies and insects off
my wounds. The militiamen did not take any notice of me because I was lying
amongst the dead and they thought that I, too, was dead.
When the rain fell I felt refreshed again. I stayed there like a corpse until the
French soldiers arrived. When they came, my mother took me in her arms and lay me
before the soldiers. I was very ill. They put me in a plane and took me to hospital in
Goma (Zaire). My mother was with me. The soldiers looked after us and gave us food.
When I was almost better, we were driven to Gitarama in Rwanda, where some other
survivors were.
A few weeks later, my mother said that we would be going back to Bisesero.
We went by car. When we got to the hill, we were lucky because we were able to find
our paternal uncle whose name is Aaron Mukomeza.
We all stayed in the same little house which we tried to repair. I was lucky
because I still had my mother, Xavérine, and my big sister, Mushimiyimana. My
father, Ezéchias Nsengamihigo had died as well as his four other children. There had
originally been six of us.
My mother remarried my uncle. He had also lost his wife and children. My
mother had another baby, called Ndimurwango. I could not do anything anymore
because of the injuries I had received from the machete during the genocide. I even
had to leave school due to illness and not being able to study.
Before the genocide, I had been in the first year at primary school at the school
centre of Gako. I followed the lessons very well. During the genocide, they destroyed
all the classrooms in Gako. Nevertheless, I was happy to see my mother taking care of
me and I looked after the baby.
However my happiness did not last very long because in February 1997 my
mother died. My mother was a strong woman and she was never ill. We were shocked
when she told us that she was ill. After she had told my uncle about her illness, he
took her to the clinic of Gakuta in the commune of Gisovu so that she could be looked
after there.
It was then that I heard her last words. She went to the clinic with my uncle
and on her way home, she died. When I heard that she was dead, I wanted to kill
myself but I didn’t do it. They hadn’t yet done the autopsy but many people said that
she had been poisoned by militiamen who had returned from Zaire. I can no longer
sleep now that my mother is dead.
When I go to bed, I immediately wonder how the genocide began in Bisesero.
My head hurts all the time. Before the genocide, I used to eat and sleep without any
problems. I did not have to think about my future because my parents looked after me,
my brothers and my sisters. In the evenings, we used to sing and dance. We were
really very joyful.
Now I am like an old mother. I wonder how my mother’s baby will grow up.
When he cries, I cry too. He gets his food from cows milk.
Other orphans from the genocide have been put in the orphanage of
Nyamishaba in the commune of Gitesi. I cannot abandon my father’s fields to go to an
orphanage. All I want to do is to live here in Bisesero and to look after the cows and
the baby. I do not want to go back to school because I can’t see the point of studying.
I need to find someone who can help me find clothes and soap. I can’t find any
decent clothes for the baby. He always has to wear dirty and worn-out clothes.
When I farm or look after the cows on the hills, I shake from fear. Someone
told me that the person, Hazigama, who hit me with the machete, is hiding in the area.
I am scared that he will kill me. I do not feel comfortable. I do not play anymore
because all the children of my age are dead.
NB. The little girl is so dirty that she has scabies all over her body.
The survivors of Bisesero helped us bury my mother.
Interviewed in Bisesero, 9 February 1997.
