Ex-Habyarimana soldier risked his life to smuggle Tutsi to safety

At the height of the 1994 Genocide against the Tutsi, one of the most deadly acts one would do was hiding or abetting in helping a Tutsi flee or escape death. Although Silas Ntamfura, a former Corporal in the Rwandan military (ex-FAR) would have looked the other side as the Tutsi were being killed, he did not. He says he felt his life was worthless without saving a single soul. He knew very well that his decision could cost him his own life, but it was a risk he was willing to take. He believed that if he was able to save a single life, it was his duty to do so. Ntamfura went on to smuggle Tutsis out of Rwanda into Burundi by leading them through a thick forest stretching twenty kilometers, using the little military supply he had. His commander discovered what he was doing and ordered his fellow soldiers to shoot him on sight for being a “traitor.” Fortunately, he escaped death. In an interview with The New Times Edwin Musoni, Ntamfura narrates his life’s journey from 1990 when he joined the military to the time when he sneaked out several Tutsi to Burundi and his close encounter with death. Below is his narration as told to our reporter. “I joined the (Juvenal) Habyarimana army in April 1990 and underwent military training. Right after the training, I was deployed on the frontline, I had many unanswered questions, I had not signed up for what I was doing at that moment. The fact that not anyone could join the military, that meant that those who would be enrolled had special privileges. As a young man who couldn’t continue pursuing further education, I resorted to joining the military partly because it was a well paying job that came with privileges and also serve my country. At the battlefield, I leant that a lot was wrong with the force I was serving; we were being manipulated into hating Tutsi. Later on, in 1992, I was redeployed to Gako Military Camp in Bugesera. At the time, Bugesera was a hotspot; people were being killed every day and in big numbers even before the full-scale Genocide. I remember once, I was with my fellow soldiers and met this woman who was a primary school teacher in former Ngenda Commune. We were coming from patrol in Ruhuha and on our way back to camp, near Murago Bridge at the customs office; some men began attacking that woman and wanted to kill her because she was a Tutsi. I rescued the woman and the killers attempted to riot, I shot in the air and they all dispersed. My superiors were not amused by my action, but luckily I didn’t get punished for that. After that, everything seemed to return to order and killings slowed down. There were, however, three civilians who were jailed inside the barracks, I leant about them when I led the night patrol. The men had been brutally beaten and had gone for three days without food. They had been framed of blowing up a minibus that belonged to a senior officer, but honestly, these men had no ability of planting a landmine. That same night, one of the officers at the camp came demanding for them. He made it clear that he wanted them dead. I wasn’t going to let innocent people be killed for no reason. I assisted the men escape and from then onwards I was referred to as a traitor. For my security I decided to stay outside the camp. On the night of April 11, 1994, a gang of Interahamwe militia, accompanied by soldiers, attacked Bugesera. That time, I saw people I regarded as friends turning into monsters; soldiers abandoned their cardinal obligation and were killing civilians and I could not bear what I was seeing. I wondered what I could do to help people who were in danger, but it was not easy at all. There were some fellow soldiers who had attempted before me but, unfortunately, landed into bigger trouble. I remember a soldier who was disarmed by the commanders and handed over to Interahamwe who hacked him within seconds. He was suspected to have tried to save people. From then on, I realised it was just a matter of time for them to know that I was not taking part in the killings and I could be subjected to the same punishment. I said to myself that I should not die a coward; at least I should save a few lives before I died. And that’s when I hatched a plan to sneak people into Burundi. The plan was to take as many people to Burundi as possible and I mapped my route through Gako Forest. I shared my plan with my fellow soldier I trusted called Karemangingo who agreed to the plan. We managed to get some people and hid them in his house. We kept them in that house until around 8:00 pm when we took them and started the flight. We took a path leading to the forest. We walked through the entire forest and we had to avoid military encampments and barriers that were throughout the forest. We had to go through the bush and meadows in order to avoid common paths and roads until we arrived in Burundi. For the very first time, I managed to sneak out 18 people successfully and they entered Burundi. Since then, I made it my mission to find as many Tutsis as possible and take them to Burundi. Though I had saved some people, it was not really enough. I felt I had to save more. It was the time when I met this old woman who had a child, I hid them as I planned how to sneak them out of the country. Later on, I brought more people, they were about six or seven. But problems were just around the corner. Some people discovered that there were soldiers taking people to Burundi. Word reached our military camp. New strategies were set up to check whether it was true or not. It became a strict order to count all the soldiers at any moment and to investigate where each and every soldier spends his nights. Each errand and movement of every soldier had to be thoroughly inspected. The troops who were on patrol at different barriers noticed some traces confirming that some people had crossed over to Burundi. It was no longer an easy matter to enter and to get out of the camp. When I arrived back at the camp, I met a fellow soldier, Corporal Pascal Munyanziza. He knew there was a problem. They had come to check on me in my bed if I was present and I was absent. I met Munyanziza at the gate. When he saw me he said: “Ntamfura, how dare you come back here when you should have better stayed in Burundi?” I was not aware of anything going on in the camp. I tried to keep calm and entered the camp. I met another soldier inside the camp. He was the escort of Colonel Pheneas Munyarugarama who was the head of Gako military camp. The escort was seated before the administration hall. He came and told me:” Save your life, you are dead. It was decreed that you must be killed.” I immediately understood that everything was over for me. I remembered the soldier who died in the same circumstances. I felt death inside me. I do not remember how I immediately got to my bedroom. I just saw myself inside the room. I changed my clothes and put on my new military fatigue. I took my gun and charged it with three magazines and said to myself; ‘I will put up a fight before they kill me’… I fled and crossed over to Burundi. After the war, I returned and joined the army and served until I was officially demobilised. Today I am a father of six and happy that my country is safe and the people I saved are alive and living much safer and happier than before”. Perpetue Mudede (rescued by Ntamfura) Ntamfura is such a great man; I don’t know how I can express my appreciation for him. He found me lost and just waiting for death to take me. I was carrying a child on my back we are the only survivors in my entire family. When he found us, he hid us and a few days later he brought some other people and led us through a very long, tiresome journey to Burundi. Hadn’t it been for his sacrifices, none of us would have survived. When we reached to the camp in Burundi, we found many others who spoke so highly of him. Up to today, we have not found the best way to thank him.

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Ex-Habyarimana soldier risked his life to smuggle Tutsi to safety