Jaqueline Kewaraza, a resident of Gishambashayo, a rustic village in Rubaya Sector, Gicumbi District, distinguished by steep scenic hills was 31 in 1992 when good fortune brought her face to face with members of the rebel Rwandan Patriotic Army (RPA), the armed wing of the Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF).
Jaqueline Kewaraza, a resident of Gishambashayo, a rustic village in Rubaya Sector, Gicumbi District, distinguished by steep scenic hills was 31 in 1992 when good fortune brought her face to face with members of the rebel Rwandan Patriotic Army (RPA), the armed wing of the Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF).
That year, the rebels (or Inkotanyi as the locals referred to them), made gains in the region as they planned the final assault on the regime that would later preside over the 1994 Genocide against the Tutsi.
The government army was often in confusion and would have crumbled faster had it not been for detachments of French reinforcements, such as the Chimère detachment, part of a larger French operation sent in to counter an RPA offensive on Byumba (now Gicumbi District).
Unaware of the then ongoing complex web of political conspiracy that would lead to the slaughter of more than a million innocent lives, Kewaraza, whose community had fled the rebel’s advance, wandered back into her home region in search of food.
Her community had earlier fled to Rubaya and people, she recalls, were suffering since the then government did nothing to help them. To make things worse, they were constantly told that the rebels were inhuman outsiders who would kill them ruthlessly.
Such propaganda actually scored in the minds of many a peasant.
On Tuesday, last week, Kewaraza, now a mother of six, was among a group waiting outside a health post built by the Rwanda Defence Force (RDF) as the latter look to give back to the community that lent a hand during the Liberation struggle.
The RDF also built a primary school that has over 400 pupils; among the school population are three of Kewaraza children.
She was animated when talking about her trepidation and fortune, one unforgettable morning, two decades ago.
In fluent Kinyarwanda and Rukiga, the native language of neighbouring Uganda’s Bakiga, a dialect also spoken by Rwandan border communities, she recounted how the Inkotanyi lived with locals "as one good family” during the Liberation war.
"Do you know how children in a family are always closely knit together?” she posed after making a U-turn on a wooden bench, to face this reporter. "That is how we lived together with the Inkotanyi here. We shared food, held constructive meetings and lived with them in peace and felt safe. They were very good people even during hard times during the war.”
Memorable first encounter
When the war came to her home region, Kewaraza’s family joined others and fled to the Kiyombe zone in the Mulindi area, she recalls.
One dull morning in 1992, she was compelled to walk for many miles back home in search of food. There was a lull in the fighting. Out of the blue, at around 9am, she realised that people carrying firearms had surrounded her.
When it dawned on her that these could be the same rebel soldiers she had heard wicked things about, she was filled with trepidation.
"I started trembling all over. I thought this was my end. The government at the time told us that the people who were fighting us were not human and had tails and weird ears,” Kewaraza said.
"But then, looking at them, I was also confused. I wondered, ‘are these people also fleeing or what?’ then they talked to me and said they were Rwandans.”
The rebel soldiers, she says, inquired about where she was coming from and she told them.
Then she was asked about the whereabouts of government troops’ encampments. This, too, she revealed as she had passed by government army camps.
"I had just bypassed government troops’ camps in the Mulindi area.”
The rebels, she recalls, focused their binoculars on the direction she had pointed to. Still in shock of being in rebel hands, the rebels explained that they would not let her go back.
"They told me that they didn’t want to hurt me but I was not listening. They said, ‘we didn’t come to kill people. We came to fight for and liberate the nation.’ But I thought to myself, ‘no, it just can’t be. This is a trick. They are fooling me.’”
Earlier before she embarked on her solitary search for food, people back home had buried an old man who had breathed his last after falling over a steep ridge as he ran away from ruthless government soldiers, she recalls.
The notion of citizens suffering at government hands compared to the rebels’ constant reassurances only bewildered her more.
The rebel unit’s commanding officer, she recalls, ordered his troops to give her food. This was mind-boggling.
From Inkotanyi – going by the propaganda the government had minted about the rebels – she expected nothing but brutal death.
"I ate fearfully. I told myself, ‘let me eat and let whatever happens happen.’ But after I was done eating they again told me to stay put,” Kewaraza recalls.
As the sun set, Kewaraza found herself walking the rebels into their main camp. She suffered another state of panic as the commander asked her to join his dining group. So scared was Kewaraza that she refused to eat, choosing only to drink water some distance from the soldiers.
Sensing her unease, they left her alone.
"I thought that now that darkness had come, my end was near. Again, I was so frightened. But later, I pulled myself together.”
For reasons she does not figure out, she found herself back on the march, walking back down the same path they had come from.
"That night, we again trekked back down up to Gatuna. That’s when they told me why they had brought me”.
The rebels, she said, wanted her to show them the path leading to Kiyombe, in Gicumbi, as they pursued the government army day and night.
That night, she again walked miles with the rebels, helping them navigate through uncharted swamps and thick jungle.
After days with them, however, she was forced out of her fearful ‘daydream.’ The rebels meant no harm, she realised, and she embraced them.
"And I have a testimony,” she said as a nurse pushed through the waiting group, issuing pieces of paper with numbers for consultation appointments. "During all this time, no rebel soldier touched me. All I can say now is, may God bless them all.”
Rubaya was on Saturday the venue for national Liberation Day celebrations, held under the theme, "Prosperity in Dignity.”
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