Survivor’s story of Interahamwe torture

Clemence, 50, had three children. They were murdered in 1994 during the Rwandan genocide against the Tutsi. Her husband Francois, was also killed by the ethnic militia; the ‘interahamwe’. Clemence survived but after being held hostage and raped countless contracted HIV. A DFID-funded programme implemented through four local NGOs including ‘Solace Ministries’ (part of a £4.25-million, 5-year ‘Care and Treatment of Genocide Survivors Infected by HIV/AIDS Project’ or CTP), supplies Julienne with anti-retroviral drugs and counselling. This has helped to rebuild the life shattered 15-years ago this month [April]. She and a small group of HIV-positive widows infected during genocide now make and sell handcrafts for a living. Clemence lives in Kigali with three orphaned children. The two boys and a girl are her nephews and niece, the only survivors of the next generation of her family. “Many terrible things happened to me during the 1994 genocide- it’s very hard to talk about them. I was married then; I had children and I had parents. But all of them perished during the genocide and I alone survived. “My husband was killed on the 22nd April 1994 with my oldest son. A week later my two other children were killed with their grandmother. They took my oldest child, who was 16, raped and killed her. The people who raped her were the same people who raped me. They were our neighbours. “Many different soldiers also raped me. For these men it wasn’t a matter of sexual urge. After they had finished raping me they used the bottles they had been drinking alcohol from to rape me. In 2008, because of the problems this caused, doctors removed my uterus. “A neighbour found me and took me to Kabgayi Catholic church but on the way we were stopped at a roadblock. There were many men there and they beat me with clubs until they thought I was dead. I was bleeding from my nose, mouth and ears – from everywhere. “During the night they left to drink alcohol and share out the things they had looted. I crawled away and escaped with five other women. On the way to Kabgayi we passed the place where I was born. When I reached home, I found that my parents and relatives had all been killed. “We thought that because Kabgayi was a Catholic church we would find refuge but it was even worse. “Many people took refuge there so the militias used to come and shoot and throw hand grenades. A bishop there mobilized the militias and the soldiers. They would come with trucks and take people away to burn them alive. “I stayed for a month and a week in Kabgayi. We had to drink stagnant water and spent weeks without food. We suffered from lice, so many they turned my black skirt white. “The ‘interahamwe’ used to come at nine in the morning and then at three in the afternoon, when they were drunk. They told women to stand up and would choose the young ones and the strong ones. They took the women to a playground where they raped them. Some died there. “Thousands of people were killed in Kabgayi. I thought it would never end. By the time it was finished almost all the people in that area had been wiped out. “For four years after the genocide I did not talk, I did not open my mouth, except to speak to one lady, one of the five who crawled away from the roadblock together with whom I shared the same experiences. We used to go and lock ourselves inside a house and just cry the whole day. “In 1997, I discovered I was HIV-positive. I became crazy, wishing I had died with all the others. “I changed when I reached Solace Ministries. Solace became our alternative family: they comforted us and supported those who were able to work to earn something. I make handbags to sell and stuffed toy giraffes and dolls. They give me medicines and care for me. I have become a normal person. “I feel very happy to have the three orphans living with me: I feel like I have a family again. Many people around here do not know that I have no children, they call me ‘Mama Elize’ after the oldest one, who is now 22, and that makes me happy. “I can’t forget about the people I lost but that does not stop from me being happy. I can’t keep crying forever. “After the genocide I never thought I could be happy again. There was a time when I used to ask why I was still alive but now I wish to live on so I can see my orphans grow up.” enquiry@dfid.gov.uk