Remembering Horror and Learning to Live. 20 years on.

In April of 1994, Rwanda was engulfed in a war and genocide that took an estimated million lives. It was four months before my 14th birthday. On this day 20 years ago, someone had decided it was our time to die. And so they came for us.

Below is an excerpt from the book I am writing.

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We hear strong steps in the corridor. I think it is the policeman coming back home. No, it is not him. It is an army officer. He quietly sneaked in by the back door and made his way to the living room where we are sitting. He is followed by another one of his colleagues. We all look at both officers with shock. We have never seen them before. 

-“Where is Bellancilla?”  The army officer who came first asks with a very harsh, loud and scary tone. “Where is she?”

My mother hears them asking. As we all keep quiet, she opens the bedroom door to come out, unaware of who is asking for her. As she steps into the living room, she freezes in shock, noticing that we are all siting quietly, the only people standing being two unknown and armed soldiers.

-Bring your identity card now!

My mother takes her handbag placed on the dinner table, brings out her identity card and gives it to the officer. He checks it, tilting her hand and head to get the light from the paraffin lamp shine on the inside pages of the folded card.

-Yes! You are the one we are looking for. You too are a cockroach from Gatonde! Come with me right now! Step forward in front and let’s go.

The soldier harshly orders, showing my mother the passage way to the back door. My mother, visibly disturbed and confused, refuses to move.

-Step forward why? Go where?

The officer abruptly steps towards her and slaps her in the face with his right hand, while his colleague watches on, keeping an eye on us. I jump out of my seat. My stomach knots, making me feel sick, and my jaws get tense. I have never seen anyone raising a finger to my mother, let alone slapping her in the face. The officer hits her in the face for a second time. I reach out to my mother, grab her arm and pull her towards the passage way as the officer continued to order her to move. I pull her hand, worried she will be hit again.

-Let’s go Ma’. Let’s go. 
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At home, that evening of the 7th of April 1994 ended with two family friends dead, one of whom shot while bravely saving my mother's life; my mother's bleeding face wounded by a bullet aimed to kill her; a grenade explosion inside our house; a brutal rape in front of my then 11 year old brother; and a neighbor bruising my ribs and nearly breaking my arm while dragging me on the ground into his home to save my life. A night I can talk about for hours.

In the three months that followed, I experienced and witnessed the most horrific scenes that I wish none on earth would have endure, or even see. Certainly not a 13 year old.

20 years ago it was.

Today, looking back, I am so grateful for the opportunities I have been given to share about the pain, grieve, and lament. This was an essential part of my ongoing process of healing, through which I am gradually discovering the gifts that were delivered to me, my family and humanity even through the darkest moments we have known. And a process that certainly brought me much closer to those I thought I had lost.

Though they are gone and no longer with us as I would wish, they are with me and they have always been. When I open my heart to Life as it has been and as it is now, within me, there are eyes and ears that open and enable me to see and hear them, and a touch of heart becomes my reality.

As to those who have done the deeds I dread and wish would never have happened, now I can say...'I see you'. Well, I must admit that the dark side of humanity that lead them to do heinous and horrific actions deeply troubles and still scares me. However, I am embracing the fact that I too, in my humanity, have that side. And now I know that it is when I keep my heart closed to life as it is, and them as they are, irrespective of what they have done, that I relinquish my ability to be conscious and 'in charge' of the darkness within, inevitably leading me down to a path of separation, hatred, fear and drive for revenge. I turn into the very thing that I loathe.

I am fortunate to know that there is another way. A way I am learning live. A way that transcends the 'happened' and the 'happening'. A way that, after tears, screaming and kicking, eventually helps me to bring it all before me, and to invite them all here and now, and then take the opportunity to say YES.

YES I am alive!
YES I am who I am!
YES it is as it is!
To those I open my heart to: YES, you are who you are, and I let go of my ill will towards you.
To those I thought I had lost: YES, you are who you are, and I feel your presence. Here and now!

And here and now, in it all as it is, O' Life knows how, we are ONE!

YES, That is what I want live, as what I am longing for is the very essence of Life.