Monday Oct 5 - Murambi

After a day off, which I manage to fill with producing/planning the next few days' events for our crew/film, we head to Murambi (near the village of Gikongoro). Laurette Kabanyana has helped me to find a bus for all 15 of us - a van taxi like the ones we see ferrying people about Butare - for a reasonable rate. 

(She and I are also on the lookout for a driver with a landcruiser for our next day's shooting, but no worries - Laurette seems to have a remarkable network.  She has said she wants to work in PR one day, and she seems like she has the networking ability to support that goal.)

Murambi is a 40 minute climb out of Butare, still in the Southern Province.  The temperature drops as we climb into the hills. 

Murambi was a technical school under construction at the time of the Genocide. Tutsi's were encouraged by their local leaders to come here for their safety & protection.  In truth, they were being assembled for mass scale slaughter. As they entered the compound, their weapons were collected.  There were 40-50,000 people here.  Their food and water supplies were cut off to further weaken them. 

The men stayed outside so that the women and children could have protection from the April rains.  When they were attacked, the men fought their attackers off with stones for a little while, brought to them by brigades of women.  When the army arrived with greater firepower than the Interahamwe, at 3:00 am on April 21st, they were overpowered.  The bodies (some of the adults & children still alive) were pushed into mass graves by caterpillars.

50,000 people.  In this peaceful high place.

After the Genocide, a survivor (Emmanuel Murangira) who escaped, walking to Burundi in 7 days with a bullet in his skull, returned to Murambi as part of an initiative to bury the victims with honour.  The bodies found still intact in the mass graves were limed & preserved, and lie in the empty rooms on wooden pallets.

Emmanuel lost 43 family members at Murambi, including his wife and 5 children.


Our guide, Francois, is articulate and gentle.  He lost his family here.  We make our way slowly through this place, hearing the laughter of children playing in the field outside as we enter each room.

There is great time taken here, by each member of this company, to allow this to enter & affect them in some personal way. There is great respect shown to one another, as each person is given the space to do this.
There is great time taken to look into the surrounding mountain hills and feel the breeze, and try to understand.

It is difficult to see the experience written on each person's face, these people I have come to love so deeply.

Francois asks us to talk about this place with those we are closest to when we return home.  I am grateful that Francois allows our questions, speaks gently about surviving his sadnesses, about his reasons for being here in service.

There is a fine line between good and evil, and yet a deep divide.

The film crew asks for words and I cannot find them.

All I can do is try not to cry or flee but look at every single individual in those rooms and bear them witness.

We sit on the hills in private contemplation. I am thankful that our guide allows us this time. This is the most beautiful place I have ever seen.  This is the greatest horror I have ever seen.

Post by Tara