The Killing Ground: A Journey to Rwanda

Coda

From the introduction to 'RWANDA - Death, Despair and Defiance,' by Rakiya Omaar of African Rights:

Like many of the women and girls who have been raped and abducted, Catherine was subjected to both physical torture and psychological intimidation that drove her beyond despair.

At the entrance to Gatagara there was a very menacing checkpoint manned by a group of interahamwe waving their machetes and spears in the air. There were a lot of dead bodies lying around as proof of their seriousness. They asked for my ID; I told them that I was Hutu... They accused me of lying; they argued about what punishment I deserved. Different judgements were passed. While this argument was raging, six men were killed with machetes and masus at the roadblock, right in front of us. As I watched, I realized that neither death nor the thought of dying any longer had a meaning for me. I wanted to be killed and get this nightmare called life over and done with.

I was only half conscious, too weak from my wounds, fear and tiredness. I just wanted to die. I remember feeling overwhelmed by a desperate wish to die. It was the only thing I wanted at the time, the only thing I could look forward to.

Makuramanzi, a girl aged thirteen, survived a massacre in the church in Nyamata, a small town in Bugesera, south of Kigali.

I tried to get up but it was in vain. I was very weak from my injuries and there were so many bodies everywhere that you could hardly move. A few children, perhaps because they are unaware of the dangers, stood up. I called one of the children to help me. She was a girl of about nine. She replied that she couldn't help me because they had cut off her arms. I struggled and managed to sit up. But what I could not do was to stand up. I tried and tried but I just could not do it. Finally I saw a young woman I knew, a neighbour. I called out to her. At first she does not answer. I insisted and she finally responded. When I looked closely, I saw that she too had had her arms cut off.

By now I don't know if what I am feeling and seeing is real life or a nightmare. I asked her if it was real life or a nightmare. She confirmed that it was real life. She tried to get someone else to help me but could not find any one. Eventually I forced myself to get up and out of the church. When I got out I felt so scared that I returned to the church in spite of the dead bodies. I spent the night there with all the corpses around me.

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