TWENTY-five years have passed since the world stood by and watched as one of the worst genocides of modern times unfolded in Rwanda. In a span of four months, 80,000 Rwandans, largely belonging to the Tutsi minority community, along with moderate Hutus, were killed, while scores of others were raped, disfigured and displaced during the bloody campaign. It seemed as if friends and neighbours turned against one another overnight. However, the hatred and resentment had been simmering below the surface for years, exacerbated by hate speech and dehumanisation campaigns that reduced the Tutsis to a subhuman status. Prior to the genocide, the propaganda machinery pushed narratives that likened the minority group to ‘cockroaches’ and ‘snakes’ that were not worthy of human life and dignity. Favoured by the former colonial powers, the Tutsis were unfairly demonised as an internal and external threat after Rwanda gained independence; they were blacklisted as ‘traitors’. In the 100 days of bloodshed that followed the assassination of Hutu president Juvenal Habyarimana, militias roamed and hunted the land freely. Even as the body count kept rising, and the scale of the killings became apparent, the international community did not act. Most victims were brutally hacked by machetes; others were shot dead. In the most sadistic accounts, however, women, men and children had their body parts cut off so that their death could be as prolonged and as painful as possible. How does one recover from witnessing such trauma?

Since that bloody period, Rwanda has made great economic and social strides, aided by considerable and sustained efforts at reconciliation between the two ethnic groups. One of the first steps the new government undertook was to remove all references to ethnicity in identification documents, highlighting shared identity and eliminating differences that were so easily exploited in times of tension. But beyond the physical scars of violence, there are the emotional scars: the immense feelings of guilt, despair and intergenerational trauma that will not be erased as long as the memory of that time and violence lives on. The international community must also make it a point to never forget the pain of the Rwandan genocide, our shared humanity and responsibility towards keeping one another safe, particularly vulnerable minority groups. Otherwise, we repeat the mistakes of the past. Given the events that unfolded in Darfur, Myanmar and other parts of the world since then, perhaps we already have.

Published in Dawn, April 11th, 2019