Teaching English each afternoon to students at Centre Marembo has been rewarding if not exhausting. As always there are some students that are keen to learn and some who joke around. Like when I showed the class a picture of the Queen and asked: “ Does anyone know who this is?” “Your girlfriend?” came the response! But one question from Andoline sticks with me: “What’s the opposite to happy?” “Sad” I replied. After a pause she says: “We are sad because of the genocide.” My heart sank. I’ve been reading about the slaughter in the hills of Bisesero and was planning a visit to the Bisesero genocide memorial this coming weekend. In the steep hills of Bisesero, nearly 50 000 people were hunted like animals, mutilated and murdered in the 100 day genocide of 1994.
But I want to go. Out of respect to the people and in rememberance to those who resisted and fought the genocidaires’ grenades and bullets with their stones and spears.
Arriving in Kibuye I strike a deal for the hour and a half motor taxi ride to the memorial. Danny is my rider and we head off at speed on the steep, winding treacherous mountain paths. The hills are peppered with small clusters of mud stone houses. There is no electricity or running water here and life is harsh for the families who inhabit the mountains. Every inch of steep mountain side is terraced and cultivated and the areas that aren’t, hold shimmering, silver eucalyptus and pine trees.
Rag covered children gawp at the white man on the back of the motor taxi and finally we arrive at the memorial high in the hills of Bisesero. The curator, Jean Domestine Ntogonira shows the only visitor in two weeks, first to a shed that houses thousands of human skulls laid-out on four massive tables. Many bear the scars of heavy blows or machetes. It’s distressing. Being shown around by Jean Domestine, one of only 1000 survivors out of around 50 000 people in this area, is heartbreaking. I’ve read first hand accounts from the survivors and its a harrowing read, so the fact we can’t communicate makes it hard for both of us.
Then, after reaching the summit I see the mass graves, we stand in silence in this serene, panoramic wilderness for what seems an eternity. After descending the stone path, Jean Domestine offers me the visitors’ comments book…”Never again.”