Genocide Commemoration

April 7^th marked the beginning of the 17^th Genocide Commemoration. The Commemoration officially lasts one week, but is subtly observed for 100 days, ultimately ending on July 4, Liberation Day (the anniversary of the official end of the genocide).

As I’ve mentioned before, the 1994 Rwandan genocide killed nearly 1,000,000 people in just 100 days and forced over two million to flee as refugees. It is frequently compared to the Holocaust, past genocides in Cambodia and Armenia and, more recently, the genocide in Darfur. What makes the Rwandan genocide different, and, frankly, more disturbing, is the level of mass participation in the killings. Pol Pot and the Khmar Rouge killed in Cambodia; Hitler and the Nazis killed during World War II. In Rwanda, ordinary people, including youth, killed their neighbors, friends, colleagues, classmates, and family members. Many major massacres occurred in schools and churches: teachers killed their students, and priests killed their parishioners. And, only killers were “safe.” Hutus believed to be “moderate” (ie, Hutus who opposed the genocide, even passively) were targeted as well.

During the genocide, the international community knew exactly what was happening in Rwanda. Canadian Lieutenant-General Romeo Dallaire, the Force Commander of the United Nations Assistance Mission for Rwanda (UNAMIR), told the UN his forces could put a stop to the genocide with just 5,000 troops. Instead, UNAMIR was reduced to 270 soldiers, and they were essentially prohibited from using force to stop the genocide. The U.S., bearing the political backlash of “Black Hawk Down,” in which American peacekeepers had been killed just six months earlier, refused to even use the word “genocide” to describe what was happening in Rwanda, as use of the term would have mandated intervention. While the genocide garnered a fair amount of media coverage, Americans were primarily inundated with news of the O.J. Simpson trial, the death of Kurt Kobain, and the Nancy Kerrigan-Tonya Harding rivalry in 1994. So, the killing in Rwanda continued – until corpses and genocidières (killers, organizers, and planners of the genocide) both totaled nearly 1,000,000 – put to end only when Paul Kagame (Rwanda’s current President) and his army of Tutsi rebels, the Rwandan Patriotic Front, seized Kigali in July.

But, I digress – this post is supposed to be about the ongoing commemoration. Volunteers, trying to be culturally sensitive while also involved in the community, have different ways of commemorating the genocide, and it’s often hard to know what’s appropriate. At the advice of a Volunteer from the first group, I decided to attend events if invited or asked to, but not to show up alone or invite myself to join people. I didn’t want to cause a scene and be a distraction, nor did I want to burden anyone with muzungu-sitting while they were grieving and should be focused on their families.

The first day of memorial week is the only official holiday and has the longest, and most emotional, events. Nobody asked me about attending, so I opted to stay at home that day. I did, however, attend a few events later in the week, the most notable being the all-night one. It began around 4:30pm and lasted through the night. Several hundred people gathered at the university and walked through town, the leaders carrying a large purple banner, which is a common way of beginning memorial events. The march ended at a church in town, where there was a short ceremony of music, speeches, and an offering. Around 6pm, the entire crowd headed back to the university and settled in for the night. The next several hours consisted of speeches, music, skits, and films, as well as a candle-lighting at midnight. During the films following the candle-lighting, tea and Fanta was distributed to the people who were still there. I gave in and headed home around 2am, so I’d be able to make it to church the next morning, but I’m told a small crowd remained five or so more hours.

All in all, I’m really glad I went to the mourning events. It seemed like people really appreciated my being there, and the experience provided a lot of insight. It also highlighted how little, at least in some aspects, I can relate to people here. I literally cannot imagine the things my friends here have seen and experienced, I don’t know what it’s like to see your loved ones murdered or to fear for your life, and, even after a year here, I don’t fully understand the implications of ethnicity in Rwanda.