Kigali - Kigali Genocide Memorial stands high on a hill overlooking the city, a reminder of Rwanda’s darkest days. I first visited shortly after it opened 10 years ago, and left in tears. This time, I left in hope.
Recently Rwanda marked the 20th anniversary of the assassination of Rwanda’s President Juvénal Habyarimana, when his plane was shot down by a missile over Kigali. His murder triggered a genocide in which almost a million people, mostly Tutsis, were murdered by the Hutu majority in 100 days.
Today’s Rwanda is almost unrecognisable from the ghostly shell that survived the wave of brutality. Now one of the world’s fastest-growing economies, it’s the country’s emotional rather than financial recovery that’s its true miracle. Naturally, for some, reconciliation is acutely painful, particularly in rural villages where survivors live alongside their loved ones’ killers. But during this two-week visit, I saw a country moving on with astounding grace and dignity. The scars are beginning to heal.
Every year in April, commemorations called Kwibuka take place across Rwanda. Crucial to its healing process, they provide time for remembrance, reflection and reconciliation. Built by UK charity The Aegis Trust, the Kigali Genocide Memorial is central to the commemorations. This year, the theme for Kwibuka20 is, appropriately, “Remember – Unite – Renew”.
It may seem an unlikely tourist attraction but the memorial is in fact a peaceful haven. Walking around its gardens amid birdsong and the heady smell of roses, I saw local men and women sitting quietly. Some smiled at me; one man nodded and simply said “Welcome”. Three vast concrete graves fill the lower gardens, one of which has a glass window revealing rows of white crosses on grey cloth covering coffins. A wall of names will eventually list the 250 000 victims buried here.
Inside the museum, the first room explains the history of Rwanda’s genocide using simple but powerful displays, starting in 1916 when Rwanda’s Belgian rulers introduced ethnic classifications differentiating the influential Tutsi, whom they favoured, and the Hutu majority. Hutu resentment eventually erupted into riots in 1959, when 20 000 Tutsis were killed and thousands more were forced to flee the country. The Hutus came to power after independence in 1962, but 30 years on, with government support weakening, exiled Tutsis planned their return, forming the Rwandan Patriotic Front with current president Paul Kagame as leader. The early 1990s witnessed unrelenting state propaganda and indoctrination aimed at dehumanising Tutsis, likening them to cockroaches that needed eradicating. Through this the state contrived to turn ordinary people into murderers. Rwanda was waiting to explode, and it did so the day after that fatal plane crash.
In the Children’s Room, only the sound of visitors’ stifled crying broke the silence. Large images of children, like Francine, adorn the room. She is beautiful. Beneath her photograph are a few facts. She was 12; her best friend was her sister Claudette; her favourite sport, swimming; and her cause of death, hacked with a machete. The next room reveals masses of family snaps of white weddings, newborn babies, proud parents: ordinary people who met extraordinary deaths.
Today’s Rwanda, however, is very much alive, and nowhere is the country’s new lease on life more evident than in Kigali. Sprawled over several hills, the capital, like the rest of the country, is squeaky clean – a consequence of Umuganda, when everybody spends the last Saturday morning of each month working together to enhance their communities.
I stayed at the Hôtel des Mille Collines which stands in the centre of the city. This was the setting for the 2004 film Hotel Rwanda, in which manager Paul Rusesabagina sheltered more than a thousand people during the genocide. With elegant gardens and chic decor, it gives little away about its past other than a small memorial. A local institution, it’s always attracted the city’s elite: the pool bar was full of smart professionals as I sipped my cocktail at sunset.
Downtown Kigali is smart, with shiny new shopping malls full of well-stocked supermarkets, trendy coffee shops and boutiques, and towering glassy office blocks surrounded by immaculate flowerbeds.
But I missed that African urban vitality and I went to explore Nyamirambo, the city’s oldest, predominantly Muslim and most vibrant quarter.
“Nyamirambo is filled with people from different countries, from Senegal, Mali, DRC. They’re good tailors and hair-braiders, so locals from all over the city come here and you can eat and drink anytime, day or night – we’ve got the best cooks in town,” said Marie-Aimee Umugeni. She is my guide on a walking tour of the neighbourhood, the fees for which, help fund her work at Nyamirambo Women’s Centre, educating and empowering local women.
Aminatta demonstrates that famous Nyamirambo cooking for us at the centre, a vegetarian meal of fried green bananas, sweet potatoes, cassava and a garlicky spinach-type dish called dodo.
We ambled around Biryogo market, and women grinding cassava, embroidering bed covers or selling fruit and veg stopped to chat or share a joke with us.
The streets of Kigali are full of life, in stark contrast to 20 years ago. Kwibuka20’s commemorations include a Walk of Remembrance, a candlelit vigil and the lighting of the Flame of National Mourning at the Genocide Memorial.
“Kwibuka is important for us all to remember together,” my guide Arthur said. “We all say genocide must never happen again. We’re bonded now: and we’re stronger together.” The Remember – Unite – Renew theme is fitting.
l See rwandatourism.com
– Daily Mail