Yvonne, age 5– hacked by machete at grandmother’s house
Fabrice, 15 months old— killed at Muhoro Church
Thierry, 9 months old— died by machete in his mother’s arms
Fillete, age 2– smashed against a wall
I had been able to hold back the tears until this moment in the Children’s Room at the Kigali Genocide Memorial.
1994— that is not so long ago. I was just about a year old when Rwanda was overcome by hatred and tragedy in the form of the monstruos face of genocide.
26 years later and justice still seems so far away. Just this past Tuesday, a top leader of the Coalition for the Defense of the Republic (CDR), was extradited from Denmark to await his trial for genocide, extermination, and murder in Rwanda. The pain is still too close.
Moses’ (my adoptive Rwandan dad) words ring through my head— “When I came back [from Uganda], I saw a dog carrying the arm of a man when I was walking to school.” His story is further ingrained in my head when I read the plaque at the Memorial confirming the rotting human flesh covering the streets and the many dogs that were seen eating the dead.
I picture Pastor Bruce as a child soldier at the age of 14. A child— he was only a child…
Then the number blares in my ears—250,000. Two hundred and fifty thousand people are interred at the Memorial Center Burial Place and Gardens; sadly, the stories and names of many of them, lost forever.
I think of scenes from the movie that had made me aware of this time— Hotel Rwanda. Even with the creative licensure, I know that the movie was barely scratching the surface of the tragedy.
My heart shatters at the statistics I learn about: Rwandan History:
“Despite the fact that 80 percent of Rwandans claimed to be Christians, a bloody civil war erupted in 1994 in which the Hutu majority conducted a brutal genocide against the Tutsi minority and Hutu moderates.
Over a three-month period, an estimated 800,000 people were slaughtered, the vast majority of them Tutsis.” When Helping Hurts by Steve Corbett and Brian Fikkert
I try to rummage through my things and my thoughts, looking for answers of hope:
“Ultimately, God has not been passive about the evil in the world: he has actively submitted himself to suffer on our behalf. […] [W]hen we suffer we are not further away from but rather drawn closer to the one who suffered for us. [W]hen we reach out to relieve the suffering of others we are most like God, because God did everything that was necessary to deal with the evil and suffering in our world.” Paradoxology by Krish Kandiah
“And sometimes it hurts. But even then, it is pure joy to even be considered worthy to share in His suffering. That is the promise; not that He is sorry that it hurts, but that He sees, that He knows; that He is here with us.” Katie Davis Major
But, even now, I see myself as Jacob. My heart wrestles with God through this still. Just call me the God wrestler. But I have hope. I hold on to hope.
