Today I took the worst photo of my life. So much so, that I have not been able to look at it on my mobile phone. I do not know if I will ever view it again - or whether I will delete it.
The picture is of rows and rows of human skeletons, heads and bodies. Hundreds of these skeletons are on display at the Murambi Memorial Centre in the South of Rwanda.
Led by Andrew Mitchell MP, I and a bus load of other volunteers from 'Project Umabano' made the three hour drive to see this Memorial Centre earlier today. To get there, you drive Southwards, through the major town of Butari and pass through green vallley hills of quite unimaginable beauty. The Memorial itself - a former school - is surrounded by these hills and it is almost like the hills represent heaven as opposed the 'hell' we visited.
Murambi Memorial is a former school in which the most hideous tragedy occurred at the height of the Rwandan genocide. On 21st April and 22 April 1994, around 50,000 Tutsis were massacred by the Rwandan army, having been baited and attacked by the Interahamwe (militia) in the days before.
Thousands of Tutsis had gathered in the grounds of the school in the hope of avoiding being slaughtered by the Interahamwe. For days, they lived in terrifying conditions as the water and electricity had been turned off. Many were left drinking the blood of animals in order to try and survive. On the 21st April, the order was given for an organised and systematic massacre and the army were given licence to kill all the 50,000 Tutsis, in just over 48 hours.
As we arrived at the Memorial, few of us knew what to expect. Some of us had been given an inkling the night before by Claire Harris, a senior aide to Francis Maude. We had been merrily drinking Rwandan Primus Beer in a bar and Claire told us what the Memorial would contain (she had been there last year). The merriment vanished quickly and we grew silent and pensive. Even with her warning, it still did not prepare us for what was to come.
We arrived at Murambi, drove up the school gates and were met by the Curator and two survivors of the massacre. Slowly we were led to the back of the school and taken to a row of large huts with a number of doors which had a number of small rooms (once classrooms no doubt). These rooms contained wooden beds with large numbers of human skeletons. The first room there were adult skeletons, the second, baby skeletons. Some rooms were just mixed. One just contained skeleton heads and separate bones. The skeletons were all preserved with lime, but even so, there was a distinct smell of decay. As we went into the rooms, one of the survivors stood outside with two rolls of toilet paper in case anyone was sick or had tears.
Another hut was even more harrowing - as the Tutsis were being
murdered, their clothes were taken away- a large hut with bullet holes
in the ceiling, contained open shelves just full of the clothes of
thousands of the victims. It was as if Bergen Belsen had come to the
hills of Rwanda.
Walking through the huts one is filled with many emotions. First there is the shock, then the horror and a deep sadness and a finally a longing to understand how such things can still happen, decades after the Nazi holocaust and at the end of the 21st Century.
Having walked through the huts we then saw the mass graves and re-emerged at the front of the memorial to hear two miraculous tales from the survivors, both of whom had lost all their family in the massacres. We heard of Interahamwe Militia, and army personnel drinking banana beer and making brichottes (goat kebabs), close by the school both before and after carrying out the massacres. The militia saw murdering the Tutsis as a day work - as something to do instead of going to harvest the field for crops. As one commentator has described, in some ways, this was an 'agricultural genocide', as the Hutus believed that they could 'purify' the land by ridding it from Tutsis.
I am glad that I went to such a place and to try and learn - and understand - the true suffering of Rwanda, during the genocide. I don't know if I will have the courage to return again. As we left in the bus, I thought of man's continued inhumanity to man, but also began to think of the survivors, the beautiful rolling hills, and the new Rwanda that has emerged from the genocide. I tried to find some optimism in my heart.
> The photo above is with a survivor of the genocide. My previous two reports from Rwanda: Education, education, education and 'Umuganda'.
