Genocide Memorial Week

Today begins genocide memorial week. The nation as a whole mourns and commemorates the lives lost during the genocide. This is especially intriguing to me based on all the grief counseling that I’ve done. We were warned that businesses and restaurants would only be open limited hours during this week. There are many events: at the national, district, and umdugudu (neighborhood) level. This morning we walked to the outskirts of our town and joined up with a very large group of people marching to the stadium. We have a one soccer stadium in town. It is equivalent to a high school football field, minus one side of bleachers. However the cement ‘bleachers’ they do have, has a roof – definite plus. We paraded in a group of a few hundred behind a banner in their national color of morning – a deep purple, the color that is traditionally used in churches. First we stopped at the cemetery/genocide memorial on the side of the field. Words were said and wreaths and flowers were placed on graves. Then we sat or stood listening to the testimony of victims, the words of local officials, and finally a radio broadcast from President Kagame. Each speech was followed by a song. For the most part, I had no idea what was being said since I am not skilled in Ikinyarwandan yet; instead I watched the faces and body language of the Rwandans. They are reserved as a nation in general. There was silence and solemnity. A few people exploded with emotion. The floodgates opened and they wailed with sobs. As soon as the crying began others would rush over to them and lead them away from the crowd – at times needing to carry them. I’m not sure whether it was to afford the person privacy or to stop everyone else from feeling the discomfort of witnessing blatant pain. I don’t think I’ll ever know the answer.

What is most interesting about this week is the mandatory events. The government declares no school and no businesses to operate (for the most part). Everyone is expected to participate in events to commemorate. Each year the population is forced to stop and remember. It has only been sixteen years since the genocide. Each and every person has experienced a loss, if not the loss of their entire family.

This week a Peace Corps staff member decided to give us her testimony – telling us her personal story. After the genocide she decided to count the number of people she had lost. Including family and friends (only the ones she was close enough to remember the names of) she had 65 people die. She is lucky enough to have surviving siblings but many are the sole survivors of their families.

Now imagine an entire nation, millions of people, most of whom are suffering from post traumatic stress disorder, commemorating for an entire week every year. There are mixed feelings about whether this is healthy or is actually holding the country back from looking towards the future. Also given that the perpetrator to victim percentage of the population was about 80% to 20% - it makes you wonder who is being forced to grieve. Do individuals who killed others show up to commemorate the genocide? Do they do it as repentance? Do they do it to put on a show? Will they ever ask forgiveness? Questions I will probably never know the answers to. I am witnessing a very private process for this country and honestly shouldn’t even be speaking these questions aloud. It’s not my right to know the intimate details. It’s not their duty to show the world. If they can find forgiveness or even speak of hope as they do, I applaud them.

*I will explain the Rwandan gacaca court system at a later time- when I have a more complete picture.