Citation
Dossier: Yusufu/ the Bisesero resistance
Name: Maurice Sakufe
Cellule: Gitwa
Sector: Bisesero
Commune: Gishyita
Préfecture: Kibuye
Profession: Driver
Marital Status: Widower of the genocide, now remarried
Age: 37 years old
....
That evening, we all withdrew to the higher mountains of Bisesero, no one from the
local authority, civil or military was prepared to help us,. We were attacked daily by
military soldiers from all sides. We stayed on the hill which was called ‘Muyira’ where
there were many of us. We had to battle against the cold and the attacks on a daily
basis.
Around the end of April 1994, I began to see Obed Ruzindana. He used to
come in a white van full of genocidal military soldiers who were armed with guns.
Obed had one too. Each time they attacked they would surround us and we would
have to find a way to escape by breaking out of their circle. Each time we passed next
to Obed, he would fire at us.
During this period, we fought against an ex-FAR lieutenant. We were
surrounded in the usual way and we tried to get out of the circle. This took place in
Bibande in a banana plantation which belonged to a Hutu called Nkiriyaho. The battle
lasted a long time. There was a lieutenant soldier with a pistol who was shooting a lot.
One of our people called Ntagozera, hit him on the head with a hoe. The soldier lost
consciousness and immediately lost control of his bladder. His pistol fell to the ground.
We thought he was dead. However, this was not the case as he managed to kick Jean
Rutabana (Tutsi). We immediately finished him off with machetes. Nzigira, our
colleague, was dealing with the other four accomplices and we eventually killed them.
We found the lieutenant’s identity card. He was from Gisenyi in the commune of
Gaseke.
There were bee hives in this banana plantation. The owner was a beekeeper.
We used the hives to chase away the attackers by tipping them over so that the bees
would sting them.
Afterwards, we had two weeks of respite. We began to bury the bodies. We
also started to go back to our activities as survivors, like working on the fields. We
thought that the genocide was over.
However there was another terrible attack on 13 May 1994. More than eight
buses arrived, along with lorries and vans full of military soldiers, and other soldiers in
uniform. They parked in places known by the name of Ku Nama and Ku Kamina. The
whole of the Hutu population had come to kill us.
They overwhelmed us by showering us with bullets and grenades etc.We could
no longer put up a fight. We didn’t even see who was attacking us. That day,
practically all the women and children were killed. My mother Mukabaziga was unable
to escape.
We could see that the attackers had some weaknesses. We tried to search for a
way to get away. We managed to escape by hiding in the bush. There, the bodies were
piled up. All the hills were covered in bodies.
That evening, when the criminals had gone, we tried to bury our people,
especially the older ones. As we were carrying this out, we came across the bodies of
our attackers. We took out their identity cards. One of them was evidently from
Bugarama (Cyangugu). I remember how we cried out ‘Even militiamen from
Cyangugu came to kill us’.
The next day the same persecutors came to attack us. They said that it was
better to hit the head around the ear to damage to cerebellum. We scattered around to
find a place to hide. That night Birara tried to reorganise us so that we would be able
to continue our resistance until the end.
At night we looked for water to drink and went through the fields to look for
potatoes or bananas. However, the wives of the militiamen, who came with their
husbands at the time of the attacks, had already gathered all the food. The role of these
women was to gather crops from the fields and to take off the clothes from the dead
bodies.
Around the 20 May 1994, militiamen in Toyota vans launched an attack on us.
We were exhausted by this time and we had no energy left to run. The people who
were caught were hit with machetes by the militiamen. We decided to run over to
where the leaders of the militiamen were want to stay (Ku Nama) so that we would be
shot rather than be killed by a machete.
That day all of us ran towards Ku Nama. The militiamen increased their fire
because they realised that we wanted to attack their leaders. About eighty people died
instantly. I ran with my machete in my hand until I got to Ku Nama. I saw Yusufu in
the shooting position. He was wearing a hat that muslims wear and a ‘Boubou’. He
was standing in front of a yellow truck and beside him were other militiamen including
Obed and Mika. Yusufu was carrying a gun.
Just at that point, I heard Birara’s voice telling us to retreat. He saw that many
of us were being killed. I retreated and hid in the bush. I was very fortunate not to die
that day because I had been surrounded by bullets.
Another attack that I can’t forget was the one which took place in the middle
of June 1994. I could hardly walk at the time and I had been hit. It was around the end
of May 1994 that I was wounded. The mililtiamen had ran after four of us (Tutsis),
two of whom died. However after having killed one of the militiamen I was hit with a
stone on my foot. This is why I could hardly walk. That day in June, the militiamen
searched through practically all the bushes. At the time, my wife and children were still
alive. They were hiding a short distance from where I was. A militiaman called
Sebikoba from our commune discovered my wife. She was carrying our child on her
back.
The militiaman hit my wife with a machete and then he put a wide bamboo
stick into her vagina. He pushed it in so far that it went right to her stomach. The child
that she was carrying on her back fell to the ground. The child wandered off saying ‘
mummy, daddy’. He had not yet learned to speak properly. The militiamen saw the
child and killed him, saying ‘We mustn’t let a child of Sakufi’s live’.
That evening, when the militiamen had gone home, I went to see my wife’s and
child’s bodies. When I arrived at the place where she lay, I found myself trembling. She
was still breathing. I removed the bamboo stick from her body. When I had taken it
out, my wife’s neck cracked and she died instantly.
I went to fetch a hoe and I buried her there and then. I didn’t have anything to
remind me of her. She didn’t have any clothes left and I had no photos of her.
Fortunately, I saw the traditional sling my wife used to use for carrying our child on
her back. It was next to their bodies. I picked up the sling and I still have it now.
In June 1994, I saw Yusufu. He had a cap and was wearing trousers and a
shirt. He was with Doctor Gérard Ntakirutimana. I knew the doctor because his father
was a friend of ours and he had given my father a cow. The doctor was looking after
the wounded militiamen. Yusufu had a gun at the time. This was in Kamina and I saw
them as I was going to hide in a bush.
We remained where we were, suffering. Our two main people (Nzigira and
Birara) had been killed. They were the ones who had organised us.
Now I live in Gikondo in the commune of Kicukiro. I have remarried and I rent a
house. I often go back to Bisesero to visit the other survivors and to see the things I
lost during the genocide. Although I am still alive, I cannot sleep. When I remember
how the people were killed at Bisesero, I lose consciousness.
When I left Kigali in 1986, I went to Bisesero. I had some money so I began
breeding modern cows. I bought 35 cows off someone called Dalio Kasiku Wa Ngeyo
in Zaire. I could get 21 litres of milk from each cow a day. I then distributed the milk
around Mugonero and Mubuga etc. Practically everyone from our commune came to
buy milk from me. I was happy and I built a beautiful house in my farm.
Now I even drink the milk which is for my child. (This child is from his second
marriage). Before the genocide, milk was in abundance.
When I go back to Bisesero, I have nowhere to stay. There is no-one to help
me repair my house.
It shocks me to see all the bones lying on the hills when I return to Bisesero.
Why doesn’t the State help us bury them? We can’t do it. Instead of helping us they
just talk about reconciliation. I wonder if the people who talk about reconciliation
really know what the word means.
One reconciles with someone who comes to ask forgiveness. How is it possible
to reconcile with someone who wants to carry on with the genocide. Last Friday, 21
March 1997, four militiamen hit a survivor from the Gitabura sector (Bisesero) with
machetes. Now the survivor is in hospital in Ngoma. How can a survivor reconcile
with a militiaman after something like that?
Interviewed in Nyarugenge, 28 March 1997.
