Final Reflections on Rwanda

Final Reflections on Rwanda 

Image by Annalise Nielson.

As a way of concluding this blog about our pilgrimage to Rwanda, some of us have chosen a favorite photograph from the journey and have written a final reflection to accompany that image. Once again, we thank you, our readers, for joining us on this pilgrimage to a land of past nightmares and of dreams coming true. Your reading of the blog and your prayers and good thoughts have carried us through all we have seen and heard and experienced. We hope we have shown you a window into what is possible when people of faith decide that healing is more important than nursing hurt, that reconciliation is more important than cultivating division, that living with love is more important than stewing in hatred. All of us have been transformed by our journey to East Africa--we have seen that, by loving others and the God who made us all, it is possible to overcome great obstacles of history and politics, of socio-economic disparity, and of fear to make a better world together. For that vision, shared by the gracious people of Rwanda, we are most grateful. ~ Shan Overton, Boston College graduate student

Forgiveness and Memory at Nyamata

By Kevin Johnson, Northeastern University graduate student

It wasn't "one genocide," as we read at the museum in Kagali, "it was a million murders."  In Nyamata, 10,000 people were killed, 2,000 of which were hacked and bashed to death inside the House of God.  Our tour guide was a young man who had experienced the genocide as a little boy in the Western province of Rwanda.  With an even and tender voice he lead us through the atrocities that occurred at that Catholic Church turned killing ground turned memorial.  "You can see, this person was killed by a machete, this person by a club..."  The images are sickening and disturbing, the numbers are unspeakable.  Over 45,000 remains are interred in the three catacombs on the site.  Inside one of them, surrounded by human skulls, we asked our guide, "How can you work here?  Why do you do this?" He replied, "It's my country, it's my people. To let [others] know what happened to my country, that is why I work here."  He wasn’t seeking revenge, he wasn’t hiding.  He was being honest.  According to the REACH program, honesty is the first step toward healing.  Admit what you have done, honestly and fully.  Only then can you begin the process of reconciling and forgiving.  Forgiveness is possible, as we saw just 10 minutes down the road. There, forgiven offenders work alongside survivors to make soap (how apt is the symbolism).  Laughing, singing, and dancing together, they all experience the joy that the Spirit brings when the heart is not burdened with unforgiven atrocities.  Perhaps we can learn from the Rwandans.  Perhaps we can learn to forgive.

* * * * * * * * * * * * 

Seeing God in the Beauty of Creation

By Annalise Nielson, Northeastern University undergraduate student

Throughout the trip, the thought I have tried to wrap my mind around was how could such beauty coexist with such horror. Rwanda is home to wonderful people, rolling hills, and unique animals. At the same time, almost every part of the country was a site upon which horrible events took place. It was almost too much for me to bear, and I wondered how the Rwandans could deal with it on a daily basis. The more I learned about the genocide and the more tragedy I witnessed, I questioned, “Where is God in all of this?” When I look at my own life and the loss I just recently have had, it’s something I struggled with. I don’t know if I will ever have an answer to where God is when it comes to tragedy. I do know that I saw God in the beautiful creation I witnessed on New Year’s Day on safari. I saw God in the smiling face of a young girl who just came up to me and gave me a hug. I saw God in the reconciled women of Nyamata. They are so strong to come together in the way they have. They were so full of joy and love, it was infectious. I also saw God in the kindness and support of my fellow college pilgrims and our leadership. When they listened to me talk, rant, or cry, offered me a tissue, or made a silly joke to get me to smile. I’m grateful for this opportunity; I have learned so much, and even though the timing was not ideal for me, I feel I was meant to go.

* * * * * * * * * * * * 

The Women of Nyamata: Promise of Resurrection

By Karen Burger, Northeastern University undergraduate student

Today, I had the great honor of being in the presence of an incredible group of heroes. These women, widows of the genocide and wives of offenders, had reconciled through REACH. Now, they love one another and work side by side making soap. Though we have been learning about the genocide these past several days, I was hardly prepared for how deeply moved I would be by this group and their testimonies. (Or, more accurately, their eyes.) It feels, for me, as though the whole trip had been leading up to this one gathering.

            They invited us in with song and dance; their joy and excitement was infectious. It was precisely what my soul needed after visiting the Nyamata church in which so many were senselessly killed.

            As I listened to the women, I saw both great pain and resilient hope in their eyes; a deep sadness that gave way to joy as stories transitioned from the horrors of genocide to the present. Women embraced the wives of their husbands’ killers, and, more than that, they called each other friend. I could barely wrap my head around it, but my heart understood. I was witnessing God’s promise of resurrection being fulfilled in a humble building tucked away in Rwanda, far from my home and any church I’ve ever attended. These women showed me what resurrection is truly about. I finally felt God’s promise. I finally understood.

            Coming to understand is not without pain, suffering, struggles, and sadness. At times it is dark. So dark that the darkness seems to consume you and pull you under with its weight. I know because I am at a time of darkness in my own life. There are moments when it seems the light will never come, that there will be no resurrection.

            But these women said otherwise. They were a beacon of hope and light that pierced my personal darkness. And I found not only hope, but also my voice. To stand and share with those women what they had just taught me and how much they meant to me was an incredible honor. I was especially moved by how I was received by the women and the bond we formed in that vulnerable, tender moment. So much can be shared when we lock tear-filled eyes with one another.

            Those women will stay in my heart as a reminder of God’s promise of resurrection for the world, and for us as individuals. I owe them so much, and they have so much to offer in terms of healing and reconciliation- not just to Rwanda but also to the entire world.

Our pilgrimage group with the women of the Nyamata soap-making collective.

Photo by Annalise Nielson.