There is a long stretch of road overlooking the terraces of Kigali. From Gisozi, it leads to the Rwanda Genocide Memorial Centre. As you walk along the tarmac road, you feel that there is a change in atmosphere. Getting closer to the gates, the sounds of the busy street fade out slowly, to be replaced by soft rustling of leaves.
There is a long stretch of road overlooking the terraces of Kigali. From Gisozi, it leads to the Rwanda Genocide Memorial Centre. As you walk along the tarmac road, you feel that there is a change in atmosphere. Getting closer to the gates, the sounds of the busy street fade out slowly, to be replaced by soft rustling of leaves.
Then entering the gates, the first thing you notice when descending the polished tiled steps is the solemnity and quietude of the place. There is also a torch that burned ceaselessly bright during the commemoration period, a sad reminder that this is not a tourist attraction but a memorial site.
We enter the office of Honore Gatera, the head guide at the Kigali Genocide Memorial Centre in Gisozi.
At the time of the 1994 Genocide, Gatera was only 13 years old. He says: "Even though I was young I could comprehend all that was happening around me. Recalling graphically those horrific experiences is very traumatic.
"But I thank God that he gave me the spirit and resilience to overcome the challenges, and another chance to rebuild my life from the most horrific events of our times. It’s through His will that I survived to be here, teaching other people the gospel of peace.”
Gatera narrates to us some of the things his young mind could recall before and after that period when the devil descended from hell to Rwanda, making one human being commit unimaginable atrocities to another in the name of ethnic cleansing.
"The country appeared serene from the surface prior to the Genocide but there was simmering fear that underneath, something ugly was boiling.”
He adds that their parents knew that something was in the offing and that the regime was going to use the then rebellion as an excuse to unleash terror on a section of its subjects with debilitating consequences of lost lives.
"When the Genocide started in April 1994, everything turned on its head and the fear became a reality.”
He says that from that day, it was a struggle for survival. "I remember seeing death everywhere. You could see a day coming but you couldn’t expect to see another one. It was a case of running, screaming, hiding, hunger, thirst and nightmares; not knowing at what time death would beckon.”
He adds, "Most people were now separated from their families and the family we now had were the ones we were hiding or running away with, in the bushes and abandoned buildings.”
Gatera says it was a process rebuilding life from the ashes when the madness was over after 100 days. But like a phoenix, he had to rise up from the "dead” and do something with his life.
"Life after the Genocide was a total mess. We had no school fees and the government had not created a survivors fund.”
However, after sometime, the government started paying school fees for Genocide survivors and this was his lucky break. He completed his high school shortly after and had a chance to go to Kigali Independent University where he studied Social Sciences.
He says that by that time, life was a constant struggle for survival and since his mother who had also survived had no means to take care of her remaining family, he was forced to live with his uncle in Kigali as he went through his studies.
"I did odd time jobs during the day and attended classes in the evening. I believed that if I finished my education, there was hope for the future.”
He adds that it was not easy reconciling with what had happened. "It took me 10 years to finally come to terms with the fact that I had lost part of my family and that the Genocide had actually happened and that I could never see them and my friends who were brutally killed.”
"In 2003, I volunteered with IBUKA, a survivor umbrella body,” he says.
When the memorial centre was renovated and new objectives assigned to it, Gatera says that his experience having volunteered there easily earned him some duties, and he has never looked back.
He says that the Kigali Genocide Memorial acts as a centre for remembering the victims, preserving Genocide artifacts and educating both the young and old on the dangers of ethnic hatred.
"Some people might shudder from the mere thought of working in an environment where some 250,000 bodies are interred, reminding them of the dark past. But I have found home here where I have the chance to educate other people, to let them know that this is the ugly price you pay when you allow the devil to enter your heart.”
He also says he makes documentaries related to his work of sensitising people where voices portraying what happened are heard so that people may know what happened and avoid repeating similar mistakes.
He adds that many people ranging from students to ordinary Rwandans, tourists and movie and music stars visit the memorial site so that they can see with their own eyes the history of the Genocide.
"The loss was for everyone since almost all the lives were touched – victims and perpetrators alike. But I love my work. It’s an experience of dedication relating to people with personal stories.”
Gatera says that through this, he’s in a big way able to help in rebuilding lives while transmitting the message to another generation that didn’t experience that ugly phase.