When I come to Rwanda, I am welcomed by the sharp sun and the young man who waving me from a distance. He is Moise, a smiling thirty -year -old, behind whose radiant view, but hides a childhood marked by horror. In the country of thousands of hills, which turned thirty years ago to a country where the greatest genocide of modern times took place, something that most of us could not even imagine.
At first glance, you would not say that this man lost both parents and five siblings during the 1994 genocide, brutally murdered by Huta tribe members. Like his biblical namesake, Moise today accompanies people, not a desert, but a country that is trying to cope with his past.
Moise belongs to the Tutsi tribe, which in April 1994 meant the death sentence. His story was supposed to end. But today he works in tourism AO Rwanda genocide, which he survived as a three -year -old child, talks with courage, openly and directly.
Among other things, he has no problem talking about contemporary politics, praises the authoritative President Kagama, but criticizes Putin, Trump, and according to Mois, Netanyahu is even worse than Putin, because he, in his words, kills a thousand young children a day.
In this interview, Moise talks about the genocide he survived as a three -year -old, betrayal and courage, but also about the prayer of her mother, who begged God so that she does not have to die before the eyes of her children.
- What the daily life of Tutsi in the countryside in front of the genocide looked like, and how the neighbors turned into pursuers.
- What role was the colonial powers, why according to Moise they bear part of the responsibility of Belgium and France.
- How he was able to survive as a small child because of the courage of people who risked everything.
- Why he tells his story to tourists today and what he believes should warn the world of other genocides.
What are you doing today and how has your life evolved from childhood to the present?
My name is Ndadishimana Moise and I’m one of the survivors of Rwandan genocide. I am 33 years old, which means that during those horrific events I was only three years old. Nevertheless, I keep a few fragments of memories that have been partially preserved thanks to my older brother and sister who survived with me.
Today I live in Kigali, but I was born in the south of Rwanda, in the Guitarama region, namely in the Nyanza region. There we led a peaceful life in the countryside before the genocide, we were a happy family. My parents were engaged in bee breeding and we had a herd of cows. According to conolialistic division, we were Tutsi tribe. However, his father worked in the capital, in the industrial company Manmetal, and only came home occasionally. Mum took care of the household and at the same time led a smaller business in the village.
My older siblings attended high school, and one of my sisters even studied at the university and worked at a gas station. Parents placed great emphasis on education, although it was not easy, at that time the children from the Tutsi tribe were difficult to get to schools. But despite all the obstacles, they tried to have a better future.
Shortly before the outbreak of genocide, we already felt that something was happening. My father, who lived in Kigali at that time, received a warning from his close friend and colleague who was Hutu. He told him about the upcoming attacks and directly told him that the government was preparing genocide for Tutsi. He warned him to leave the country. My father often talked about it with his mother and even wrote the documents to prepare our family to escape, thinking about his journey to Burundi or Uganda.
What were the relationships between Huta and Tutsi in your neighborhood before the genocide itself? Was the tension were to feel earlier, or did it suddenly come?
The relationships in our village were good before the genocide. People knew each other, helped each other, we lived in peace together. But hatred did not suddenly start, it was planned in advance. The last government launched a large campaign against Tutsi. They began to portray us as enemies as someone who is not a full -fledged person.
It was similar to what was once done with Jews, propaganda everywhere, lies, brainwashing. They said that Tutsi had no rights, that they are a threat. And in the countryside, where there were not many educated people, such speech spread very quickly. People started to believe it.
Suddenly, neighbors who have known you all your life, stopped greeted, bypassed you, became afraid they would have problems if they talk to you.
This campaign did not come for the first time. As early as 1959 and 1973, violence was happening, Tutsiom took cows, houses, expelled them, and some also killed them. Some people fled the country and returned until years.
My father worked in the city and once his smelter said to him, “You are a good person, but there is something wrong here. It is better if you leave until it’s too late.” Well, my mom refused. She believed that if we live right, we believe in God and do not hurt anyone, nothing bad will happen to us.
We were Adventists, so parents were convinced that good would protect us. But we had no idea what it was like. Something has changed every day. After all, in the last week before the outbreak of genocide, his father found himself in the middle of something that could no longer be stopped.
Do you remember exactly when you first felt something serious?
I remember the day when genocide started. It was between four and fifth afternoon. We played with other children around. Suddenly we saw that at a distance of three to five kilometers from our house, several houses were burning at once, maybe up to fifty. We didn’t understand it. We just saw smoke and flames climb. As children, we didn’t realize it first. We perceived it as something strange, unknown. We even enjoyed and ran to call others.
Only when the parents came and saw what was happening did we realized it wasn’t a game. I first saw my mom cry. Was frightened. My father said to her, “This is the day I’ve always told you. The day it starts. Whenever we can be killed.”
We packed a few things, just a towel, some clothes, and we went from our house. Nothing has happened to us yet, but we knew it would come. We left before the gunmen came to our village. We traveled all night and got to one family that was very close friends of my father.
It was a hut family, my father’s classmates, very decent people. They received us, gave us food. After a meal, we went to bed as children. Adults stayed up and talked. At that time, I did not know what they were talking about, but they planned how they would hide us and how to help us survive.
Because we were a big family, my father’s friend had two married sons. So they divided us. Me, my sister, mom and father stayed together. The others were divided among other families. There were ten, eight children and parents in our family. We could not hide all in one place.
In the area where we came, no one knew me and I was still small, I was almost three years old. So they told me, “Moise, you don’t have to hide. Go with others to graze cows and goats.” Older siblings and mom were hiding during the day, I could move among people. During the day I joined the group that led cattle to the passion. Older people had to have documents with them. And when someone saw that you were tutsi, you had to die.
How did the situation develop? Did you know what’s going on around?
In the first week they killed people day and night. They were hunted with dogs, in the woods, in the houses. I have no idea how they found out that our family is hiding with those friends. But one evening they came to them, gave them money and said, “Take a beer. No one is here, don’t lie to us.” They knew that if they let them in, they would kill us all.
The situation was becoming more menacing. My mom and older siblings could no longer stay in the house during the day. They went to hide in the bushes and returned at night, just for a moment, eat. It was dangerous.
After three weeks, one of my father’s closest friends decided to act. He called him and said, “The situation is serious. I will help you if you entrust me everything you have.” My father trusted him. He gave him a bag of money and wrote a letter, handed over to him all his property, saying that if some of his children survive, let him take care of him.
Well, when our whole family returned in the evening, he had already prepared a group of gunmen. They were detained in the living room and killed. My younger sister was hidden in another family at that time. She knew we were always going home in the evening, so she came to see. She found them dead. She cried and started to run. They chased her, but she escaped.
Only I, my mom and the other sister stayed. One evening, when we were returning from the cows and goats, I heard my mom cry and pray, “God, I don’t want to be killed in front of my children. I’d rather die first.” Her voice broke. She couldn’t speak all week. She was so scared that she lost her voice.
What did you do at the moment?
I decided to leave that night. I had nowhere to go, but I went. I walked for six hours, without a destination. I happened to meet a man who knew my father, he was a man from our church choir. He picked up my bike and took me to another family that I didn’t know.
Their mother, when she learned who I was, said, “No one would touch him. His mom was my close girlfriend. I will take care of him.” Then they took me to another family. I stayed there for a few days, but then I returned to my mom. On the day I came back, they caught and killed them.
But my sister did not give up. She continued to escape and the struggle for life.
How did you eventually get to safety?
After all, the Kagama army (current President Rwandy) detained us, and the family that hid me. I remember the moment when the fighting finally ended and the whole country was liberated. Then we returned to my family with the soldiers. I mean, to what remained of her.
Some of my siblings survived. Others don’t. I learned about the death of my father and my mother later, after the end of the genocide. I didn’t want to believe it for a long time. I hoped for a long time that they would appear somewhere, that I would find them somewhere. But the moment never came.
I am interested in the mental motivation that didn’t let you go. Even though you were educated, you had access to opportunities, the trauma remained. What did it leave in you?
Precisely. It’s very difficult to explain. When I survived the genocide at all, I did not even understand what happened and why me and the other tutsi had the smelter of the motivation to kill. But I was lucky, during the genocide none of the militias caught me, no one killed me, he did nothing wrong. I always say: Glory to God Almighty. For from the first day to the end God protected me.
After the genocide, after we lost our parents, the government has created a fund to support the survivors. There I got a chance to continue education. Then I had a chance to return to school.
Who took care of you?
First, the government and then some of us ended up in an orphanage. Over time, my older sister started to take care of me. The one I mentioned that she lived in Kigali and escaped during the genocide.
Was it the one that ran and missed at night?
No, no. It was another sister, older. She lived in Kigali, and when genocide began, she fled to Tanzania. Later she worked for the Red Cross. After the genocide, she returned to Rwanda to find us.
It must have been strong when you met again.
Yes. But it wasn’t easy. Although she returned, I didn’t take her as soon as my sister. I didn’t trust her. I told her that if something like a genocide happens again, he might just want to confuse me to join her. It took three years to build a relationship again as siblings as a survivor.
Today Rwanda is more united. People are beginning to understand that the distribution between Hutu and Tutsi was a colonization construct. Belgium introduced it all. If there was no colonization, I believe that this may not have happened.
So do you think that genocide is not just the blame for people in Rwanda, but also foreign powers?
Yes. Belgium introduced the division of the company. France was also involved. And although it has already happened, they have never officially apologized. Even today, they support people in neighboring countries who disrupt our security. Therefore, we have a problem with some countries today.
Would you feel better if Belgium or France showed regret? Or is it no longer important to you?
Not. I think the most important thing is to realize that we are all human. If it does not change its minds, it can once turn against them. As a Christian, I don’t want anything wrong to anyone. However, I believe that if people change their hearts, they will accept responsibility and start acting fairly, then there may be peace among nations.
Do you meet prejudice or misunderstandings when speech comes to Rwanda? Do you feel that the world should know more of your story?
Yes, there are still misunderstandings. When tourists come here from Europe or America, they sometimes know very little. Therefore, our history should spread, at home and abroad. Not only for our own protection, but as a message to the world. Genocides are still happening today. Look at Gaza. There are wars around the world. If people knew the value of human life, the world would be better. Less suffering, less loss, less poverty.
