It was the 7th<\/span> of April, when the radio announced the breaking news of the death of President Juvenal<\/span> Habyarimana<\/span>. It was the beginning of the last precious moments for millions of Rwandan Tutsi\u2019s, it was the beginning of a journey of survival for a young genocide survivor, who would forever have to live with the engraved memory of the unimaginable scenes she now sees every time she sleeps. From the darkness she passed through, today she lives among us to tell her story, to remind us when we forget her soul wrenching story.<\/p>\n A young woman small in stature, Francine Uwera<\/span>, 27, moves with graceful small steps. Her dark skin is in contrast to the whiteness of her teeth. From afar, she seems as ordinary as any other young female Rwandan ; beautiful, graceful and timid. But Uwera<\/span> is all those things and so much more, she is full of despair and hope combined, she smiles yet her eyes are sad, she holds herself up with dignity yet she is full of resignation, she is the past combined with the future. As she sits fidgeting with her fingers, she seems anxious, yet when she opens her mouth, her voice comes out strong and confident, in her words you can hear, anger, sorrow, confusion but most of all conviction. This is her story, this is her memory. <\/p>\n \u201cIt was the 7th<\/span> of April when my mother and I were at home waiting for my father to arrive to have our supper, my mother was ill at the time and instead of going to school, I stayed home in order to care for her. That was when we heard the news on the radio, the president\u2019s plane had been shot down, and that was when the hour of death arrived at my door. In that instant by seeing my mother\u2019s face, I knew that something terrible had happened, but I was young and didn\u2019t understand the real impact of what this meant.<\/p>\n My father came home shortly after, and without pause or explanation told us to leave the house and start running, he started shoving me out through the back door telling me, \u201cRun, run Francine……… and don\u2019t stop until I tell you, don\u2019t stop for anyone else\u201d. <\/p>\n My mother gave me her wrapper and told me to carry it to shield me from the rain. In the rush and confusion, I couldn\u2019t possibly comprehend that they were not really following behind me, so I ran. When I got as far as the bushes at the end of the road, a sudden and terrible fear came over me. I could hear thousands of people screaming from what seemed like miles away from every corner, voices of crying women, men, and children. Even dogs were barking incessantly. I was terrified and hid crouched in the bushes. <\/p>\n I was not going to continue without my parents, so I decided to wait. I waited for what seemed like forever, then I saw them, the men who marched into my home and killed my parents. I could hear them say \u201cwe should kill them, kill them all.\u201d<\/span> I will never forget the sound of the cows crying as they were being slaughtered, and since then never have I been able to eat any kind of meat.<\/p>\n I knew I couldn\u2019t stay there for they were sure to find me. I gathered all the courage I had and started running, all the while, mentally reciting all the prayers I knew. I ran till I could not run any more. But there was nowhere to go, and no one whom I knew. I did what many Rwandans were doing during the 100 days of massacre ; I lay down with the bodies of the dead and pretended what at that time I only wish were true.<\/p>\n It would be impossible to tell you all the things I saw because most of the time, my face was buried in the ground, laying down next to the corpses, waiting for the militia to find and kill me. While praying to God, I started to doubt whether he even existed to save me. <\/p>\n All I can tell you is that Rwanda had become a real living hell ; the beautiful hills you see now were all on fire. Screams of thousands of people all in pain and agony rent the air, leaving your mind to imagine the horrible things these people were going through and what might happen to you too. If you want a clear picture of what the hell in the bible is described like, any genocide survivor can tell you.<\/p>\n I cannot explain to you why I had the will to continue or let alone live but I got up and continued walking half running, my feet were swollen and I thought I would die of thirst before the Hutus<\/span> found me. As I was trying to evade the main roads the militia were driving through erected with roadblocks, a Hutu<\/span> woman whom by the grace of God seemed to take pity on me located me. She hid me in the pit latrine in her house ; she would tie a long rope around my waist and throw some unripe banana leaves down. As I sat there for days in faeces<\/span>, I asked the Lord over and over again, why he would allow this to happen. I wondered if we had committed a sin so great that God wanted to wipe out everybody as he did in the bible. But there is one question that I don\u2019t think I can ever find the answer to. \u201cWhy did God spare me ? Why did a Hutu<\/span> woman become my saviour.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n The days and nights had become one to me. I had become immune to the smell that had made me wrench a few days ago. Then one day, I heard men\u2019s voices above me. As I sat in the latrine waiting, I looked up but could not see clearly. I waited for a grenade to be thrown down. I knew the final hour had come but then a man threw down a rope, telling me that they were \u2018Inkotanyi<\/span>. They had to coax me until the old woman, came and told me it was safe. <\/p>\n I climbed up wondering what they meant by \u201csafe\u201d. Had the killings stopped or were these men simply going to help me escape. I reached the disembarked from the pit and finally breathed fresh air.Have<\/span> you every known what it is like not to remember what breathing clean air feels like ? No I believe you haven\u2019t.<\/p>\n I will never forget seeing the RPF<\/span> soldier who stood in front of me as he pulled me out of the darkness into light. Of all the horrible things I saw and heard, of all the memories and sounds that still haunt me till today, the one I don\u2019t ever want to forget. The memory I will always keep through that whole ordeal is the voice of the soldier and the way in which he told me : \u201cHumura\u201d<\/span> , I was so overwhelmed that I collapsed. I sobbed uncontrollably. I yelled out. I felt my heart could take no more. I cried so hard I was left with no energy to even stand up.<\/p>\n All this time, the soldier was holding me gently repeating to me those words that have become a balm to my wounded heart. Since then, I have taken it a step at a time, with the help of the government and various organisations<\/span>. I have been able to go to school and find work. After 17 years, I am beginning to let go of the pain. I have begun to believe that our country can recover and from testimonies such as mine. No survivor out there should ever feel alone as we did, and this, the world should know. <\/p>\n <\/p><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" It was the 7th of April, when the radio announced the breaking news of the death of President Juvenal Habyarimana. It was the beginning of the last precious moments for millions of Rwandan Tutsi\u2019s, it was the beginning of a journey of survival for a young genocide survivor, who would forever have to live with the […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[18],"tags":[],"byline":[274],"hashtag":[],"class_list":["post-49","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-people","byline-fiona-gasana"],"bylines":[{"id":274,"name":"Fiona Gasana","slug":"fiona-gasana","description":"","image":{"id":0,"url":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/?s=96&d=mm&f=y&r=g","alt":"Default avatar","title":"Default avatar","caption":"","mime_type":"image\/jpeg","sizes":[]},"user_id":null}],"contributors":[{"id":274,"name":"Fiona Gasana","slug":"fiona-gasana","description":"","image":{"id":0,"url":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/?s=96&d=mm&f=y&r=g","alt":"Default avatar","title":"Default avatar","caption":"","mime_type":"image\/jpeg","sizes":[]},"user_id":null}],"featured_image":null,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/new.igihe.com\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/49","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/new.igihe.com\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/new.igihe.com\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/new.igihe.com\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/new.igihe.com\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=49"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/new.igihe.com\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/49\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/new.igihe.com\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=49"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/new.igihe.com\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=49"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/new.igihe.com\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=49"},{"taxonomy":"byline","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/new.igihe.com\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/byline?post=49"},{"taxonomy":"hashtag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/new.igihe.com\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/hashtag?post=49"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}