Never Again! was the sign that greeted us outside the church in Nyamata, that we visited on Friday July 16th, on our way into work at Nyamata High School.
A young woman, our guide explained to us how people in this predominantly 'Tutsi' town were targeted for attacks in 1992 and hid here in this church then. They survived the killings of over 500 people in the town at this point, so when the Rwandan Genocide started in 1994 and this town was again targeted, people streamed into this small church again for refuge. Looking in the door of this small church, I found it really hard to imagine how approx 10,000 people managed to cram into such a small space. Before we went in we examined the metal protection door outside. It was bent out of shape by the weapons of the soldiers as they worked on it to get inside. I could also clearly see the bullet holes and ,as our guide explained, the effects of shrapnel from grenades in the roof above the door. She explained how finally the soldiers had been successful in fighting their way through and once inside exacted terrible murder on the people taking refuge.
As we moved into the church a dreadful sight greeted us. There were no seats or furniture inside but piles and piles of clothes from the people who had crammed inside and had met their death here. There were small pathways between the bundles of clothes, allowing for us to walk around the church. Apart from these small pathways, the floor of the church was completely covered with the clothes of people(often blood stained) - their trousers, dresses, sandles. Our guide escorted us through to the back of the church, where the only piece of furniture was. It was a small table, with what once must have been a white cloth covering it, but now it was coloured brown - bloodstained. She explained that it was here that most of the killings had taken place because people had sought refuge behind the altar - believing this to be the safest place in the church. Most people were killed by machete, a small number by bullet and some, mostly children by being smashed against the wall which was still badly stained. Grenades were also used and we could see the holes made from this in the roof over the altar.
We then moved downstairs into the crypt area. It was here that the remains from peoples bodies were kept- thousands of people who had died in this church. It was dark and small but possible to see the shelfing (floor to roof) which contained peoples skulls and bones. There was only a narrow path between the shelves and I found it hard to fit as i had my rucksack. I was afraid i was going to knock into the shelves and peoples skulls. We came back up the steps to the church but decided not to go down a similar stair case to similar crypts on the other side of the church. We had seen too much. Our guide took us outside to the grave of an exnun who had helped the people who had sheltered here. She explained that the ex nun had been interviewed on Radio and had been broadcasting to the world what had been going on here. She was also killed.
When we left the church, we were speechless and upset and really didn't want to head back to work and an afternoon of teaching. We started the walk back into town and to the school. As we walked we joined a lot of locals walking. People are always on the move and walking here, no matter what time of day. We were greeted by people in Kinyarwanda and French. It was a vibrant and busy scene. A child walked by us happily playing with an inner tyre of a bicycle. This town and community, it seemed to me, had somehow managed to survive the tragedy of the genocide and was very much alive and vibrant.
As we moved closer to work, we started talking to each other again - about what we had experienced and why the genocide had happened and how it had been left happen. I will return to this topic in another blog.
We arrived in the school, to meet with another group of enthusiastic local teachers and continued with our afternoons training.
A young woman, our guide explained to us how people in this predominantly 'Tutsi' town were targeted for attacks in 1992 and hid here in this church then. They survived the killings of over 500 people in the town at this point, so when the Rwandan Genocide started in 1994 and this town was again targeted, people streamed into this small church again for refuge. Looking in the door of this small church, I found it really hard to imagine how approx 10,000 people managed to cram into such a small space. Before we went in we examined the metal protection door outside. It was bent out of shape by the weapons of the soldiers as they worked on it to get inside. I could also clearly see the bullet holes and ,as our guide explained, the effects of shrapnel from grenades in the roof above the door. She explained how finally the soldiers had been successful in fighting their way through and once inside exacted terrible murder on the people taking refuge.
As we moved into the church a dreadful sight greeted us. There were no seats or furniture inside but piles and piles of clothes from the people who had crammed inside and had met their death here. There were small pathways between the bundles of clothes, allowing for us to walk around the church. Apart from these small pathways, the floor of the church was completely covered with the clothes of people(often blood stained) - their trousers, dresses, sandles. Our guide escorted us through to the back of the church, where the only piece of furniture was. It was a small table, with what once must have been a white cloth covering it, but now it was coloured brown - bloodstained. She explained that it was here that most of the killings had taken place because people had sought refuge behind the altar - believing this to be the safest place in the church. Most people were killed by machete, a small number by bullet and some, mostly children by being smashed against the wall which was still badly stained. Grenades were also used and we could see the holes made from this in the roof over the altar.
We then moved downstairs into the crypt area. It was here that the remains from peoples bodies were kept- thousands of people who had died in this church. It was dark and small but possible to see the shelfing (floor to roof) which contained peoples skulls and bones. There was only a narrow path between the shelves and I found it hard to fit as i had my rucksack. I was afraid i was going to knock into the shelves and peoples skulls. We came back up the steps to the church but decided not to go down a similar stair case to similar crypts on the other side of the church. We had seen too much. Our guide took us outside to the grave of an exnun who had helped the people who had sheltered here. She explained that the ex nun had been interviewed on Radio and had been broadcasting to the world what had been going on here. She was also killed.
When we left the church, we were speechless and upset and really didn't want to head back to work and an afternoon of teaching. We started the walk back into town and to the school. As we walked we joined a lot of locals walking. People are always on the move and walking here, no matter what time of day. We were greeted by people in Kinyarwanda and French. It was a vibrant and busy scene. A child walked by us happily playing with an inner tyre of a bicycle. This town and community, it seemed to me, had somehow managed to survive the tragedy of the genocide and was very much alive and vibrant.
As we moved closer to work, we started talking to each other again - about what we had experienced and why the genocide had happened and how it had been left happen. I will return to this topic in another blog.
We arrived in the school, to meet with another group of enthusiastic local teachers and continued with our afternoons training.
Hi Kay
ReplyDeleteHope you are well!
What a story. You are indeed a great woman to be doing this work.
Best wishes,
Sandra