Unbelievable...

As the afternoon approached we left the students who were in good spirits, and made our way back to Kigali. It took a little longer as our taxi had to stop for repairs, but that provided a good opportunity for some lunch. Once back in the capital Abraham went one way and I went to see the National Genocide Memorial Center.

As I entered this building I was not sure what expect as I had heard so many things before my arrival. I was amazed that it was two different European countries that started to classify the Rwandans into two different groups, the Hootoos and the Tootsies. They were not two different tribes but rather originally classified by how many cows they owned and later the length of the nose and other defining physical features. Early on the Europeans used the minority group to help rule the country. Bitterness grew and was harbored and eventually the genocide began as the president’s plane was intentionally shot down and the act of violence blamed on the minority group. Soon it become a nightmare that I just could not believe. People were slaughtered in the streets and hunted like animals. Neighbors turned on each other and husbands were told to kill their wives depending on their classification. As I toured this memorial it shared all the details and how in a matter of just a few months almost one million people were murdered and half a million women raped. I read about the Canadian general who saw what was happening on the street and wanted more UN troops sent so it could be stopped. Instead the UN turned its back and a few European countries even provided millions of dollars to buy the arms to carry out the process….And then looked the other way as the horrors took place. People fled to churches and some were then surrounded by soldiers who were instructed by the bishop to burn them. The memorial had human bones, individual pictures of those murdered and clothes uncovered in mass graves. A shirt that said “I love Ottawa, Canada” caught my eye and I wondered as a Canadian why we didn’t do more. As I left the main memorial I went upstairs where there was a special memorial for the children that were killed during the genocide. Their large pictures on the wall had a plaque underneath that told about their favourite sport and past time. Then it was told how they died… What I read I couldn’t believe as some were stabbed in the eyes, macheted in her mothers arms, shot and killed in many other unbelievable ways. The one that brought tears to my eyes was a little boy the age of Seth who was bashed to death against a wall.

As I left I was in shock. Yes, there is still some tension, but Rwanda has started a remarkable process of healing and moving forward. Tribes are no longer mentioned, but instead a person will say they are a Rwandese.

As we climbed back on the bus to head back to Uganda, I had a much better understanding of what our Rwandese students had gone through and the challenges that lay ahead. I made up my mind that I would return to visit these students and refuse to forget them. Over the eight hour journey I thought about that little boy I read about at the memorial center and thought about little Seth and my lovely wife, Sarah back in Kampala. I realized more than ever how thankful I was for my immediate family and the heritage I have back in the West and the country I am truly blessed to be part of. Yes, Canada and other countries like the United States are not perfect, but we should be extremely thankful for growing up in countries where individuals are welcome to be different and express themselves in a country where freedom for all is a cornerstone. I also vowed to be all I can for my family and be a husband and dad who places them first.

Please continue to pray for my six P7 Rwandese students (and a seventh one returning later) that they will adjust quickly back to their culture and do well as they start secondary school. As you think about these students and Rwanda remember to be thankful for the country that many of you are reading this from.

God Bless and have a great Christmas season as the birth of Jesus approaches. Mark