In the course of the 1994 Genocide against the Tutsi, Tharcisse Nsabimana recalls his brother helping a neighbour escape to Burundi via boat. The neighbour had left his wife and three children behind, who later sought refuge at Nsabimana’s home, where his father helped hide the family. As days went by, it became increasingly hard to continue hiding them as the killers had been tipped off on their whereabouts and were coming for all of them. “This is when they killed the woman and her three children right in front of us. I witnessed all this, but there was nothing we could do as things were getting worse every day,” Nsabimana says. After the Genocide when the neighbour returned home, he didn’t believe what Nsabimana’s family told him, instead, he listened to others who lied to him that it was Nsabimana’s family that had killed his. This led to the imprisonment of Nsabimana and his family, where he personally served a period of 92 months. Although the real killers eventually admitted to the crimes and are now in prison, it was still hard for Nsabimana to have a normal life with others in the community as everyone knew that they had been behind bars for the killings. “This took a toll on my life as I chose to live in isolation. It took me 13 years to start socialising with others,” he says. Being part of society Loneliness and social isolation are serious public health risks affecting a significant number of people and putting them at risk for depression and other serious medical conditions, health experts say. Take 21-year-old Theoneste Twizeyimana, for example, who says throughout his entire life, he was shamed and rebuked by his peers for reasons he didn’t know—until his mother told to him that his father had participated in the 1994 killings. “I grew up not knowing my father because he was in prison, when I came to learn about why he was there, it was even worse as I couldn’t accept the fact that I was the ‘child of Interahamwe’ as my peers would refer to me as,” he says. Twizeyimana says the entire situation and circumstances robbed him of a decent childhood, making him endure humiliation and isolation, something that led to depression. “I was about to commit suicide. I had no mental safety and I hated to be in social gatherings,” says Immaculée Uwimana, a resident of Nyabihu District. She says at first, the idea of participating in group therapy to her seemed intimidating, wondering how she would share her stories with strangers, as she thought it was very personal. Uwimana adds that learning and hearing from others with similar issues helps one see that you’re not the only grappling with issues, which gives you a sense of relief. The beneficiaries, most of them ex-prisoners and survivors of the 1994 Genocide against the Tutsi, have been able to not only reconcile but also find safety, unity, and an approach to promote values among communities. This was made possible by the ‘Tujyane’ project, under Mvura Nkuvure (a community-based social therapy, meaning “heal me, I heal you”). The therapy was introduced in 2020 in three districts; Nyabihu, Nyamaseke, and Rusizi, with the aim of building sustainable peace through contributing to the successful reintegration of ex-prisoners and mitigating the negative impacts of intergenerational legacies of the Genocide; transmission of trauma, violence, and divisionism in Rwanda. The beneficiaries shared their stories last week during the closing of the programme, after its two-year operation. Lucie Nzaramba, the executive director of community-based social therapy (CBS), says from the mini research they carried out after the end of the programme, there has been an increased level of reconciliation and forgiveness among the survivors and ex-prisoners. There is also re-education of symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), an increased level of trust, acceptance, and safety among the beneficiaries. For instance, before, participants were showing seven symptoms of PTSD and after going through the therapy sessions, the symptoms reduced to three. Regarding forgiveness, 40 per cent of them couldn’t forgive or ask for forgiveness, but now, the level of being able to ask for forgiveness and forgive has increased to 60 per cent. “They are able to work together as one in terms of socialising, and also engaging in some social activities such as farming and handcraft making, which is a good sign as far as living in unity is concerned,” she says. Changing lives Nsabimana says from the sessions of social therapy, he has been able to accept himself, understand well the reasons behind the differences in his community, and most importantly, he is living a normal life because those around him have learned to socialise and live with him like any other person in the community. Twizeyimana on the other hand is glad that after the release of his father, they have made peace with the affected families, something that has brought unity in the area. “I feel like this is a good thing because we won’t live in shame and fear again. It gives me hope, I have a reason to work hard in life and forget about the past,” he says. Josiane Mukeshimana, a social therapist, says after sharing her sorrow with community and church leaders, none of them was of help. Social therapy came as a special approach, helping her find a safe space to express herself and also help others. According to the Rwanda Reconciliation Barometer published in 2020, the three districts (Nyabihu, Nyamaseke, and Rusizi) had the lowest levels of individual healing. Since 2020, about 1,700 participants have benefited from the programme.
