Citation
Testimony on the Resistance on Bisesero
Name: Efesto Habiyambere
Cellule: Bisesero
Sector: Rwankuba
Commune: Gisovu
Préfecture: Kibuye
Profession: Farmer
Marital Status: Widower of the genocide
Age: 28 years old
The people from the Bisesero region came from various tribes but we were united. I
am from the Umunyiginya tribe and my wife, Nyirankumbuye, was from the Umuhima
tribe. We had two children, one boy and one girl.
There were many young girls and boys in Bisesero. They would gather on the
hill during the day and play sport. They also played when they were looking after the
cows. None of the Tutsis from Bisesero studied. Their occupation was looking after
the cows. Some of the young people wanted to join the FAR (Forces Armées
Rwandaises). They had passed all the relevant exams, for example running etc, but the
military officers had prevented them from joining, the reason being that the Abasesero
were Tutsis. They were very slender and were apparently unable to handle a gun. So
we remained isolated in our region, and no-one could attack us.
After President Habyarimana’s death, Tutsi houses were burned down in the
commune of Gishyita in Mubuga. The Tutsi intellectuals were the first to be killed. On
the 9 April 1994, the militiamen from this commune launched an attack on the sector
of Musenyi, in the Bisesero region. These militiamen were accompanied by military
soldiers who were carrying guns. We managed to resist this attack by throwing stones
at them. Despite the fact that we were returning their attack, they still managed to kill
several people from our group.
As soon as this happened, we gathered together on the hill. People were
starting to panic. They couldn’t eat from fear. Me and other young people like Nzigira
(from the Umunyiginya tribe), Gatwaza (from the Umuhima tribe) and Habimana (from
the Umuhima tribe) went up to the other young people who were afraid and tried to
raise their spirits. Two old people, called Karamaga et Birara were giving
encouragement to prepare the people for battle against the militiamen. The children
and women started to look for stones to collect. We put them in our bags. For the first
few days, everyone warmed themselves at night by the fire. Often, however, it rained
and the people shivered in the cold.
The militiamen launched attacks every day. They arrived in Obed Ruzindana’s
cars which were in fact trucks used to transport tea from Gisovu. When they arrived
they were singing. They were wearing white clothes and grass on their heads. When I
saw them attacking, I would immediately take my spear and club and put the bag of
stones around my neck and I would ask the others to follow me. Nzigira would take
another group and we would follow the orders that the two old men gave us.
When the militiamen attacked, we would lie down at first. This was because
they were throwing grenades. Afterwards, we would mingle with the attackers and
fight. When they saw that about two militiamen were dead, they would immediately
retreat. Someone would be looking to see if the stones were all gone and then they
would ask the women and children to quickly get more. If anyone from our group
retreated out of fear, Birara or Karamaga would immediately hit them with their clubs.
In the evening, when the militiamen had gone home, we would gather together
again so that those who were still alive should know to carry on fighting until the very
end. When my mother was still alive, she used to come and beg me not to go at the
front of the others when a battle took place. She wanted to prevent me from doing this
because I was the only boy in a family of girls. I was the only son she had. For the first
time she was afraid that I would die. Not once did I listen to my mother’s advice. I
always went to the front. During the whole of the month of April, we were attacked
but each time we were the victorious ones because we managed to kill many
militiamen, police and soldiers. We also took their weapons, such as guns.
Two weeks prior to 13 May 1994, there was a moment of respite. We thought
that peace had been reestablished and we started to farm our fields and to bury the
dead.
On the 13 May 1994, at about 9:00 a.m., we saw a large number of cars
arriving, such as lorries, buses and trucks. They were full of militiamen. When they
arrived at a spot near to where we had gathered, they surrounded us and began to
shoot us using different guns. In less than an hour, they had killed practically all the
women and children.
There was no longer any point in throwing stones now. We had to create a
path amongst the militiamen so as to avoid being caught. Our men all attacked one
particular group of militiamen who were consequently frightened and they opened up
the path for us. We ran to hide in the bush. That day, they managed to break all the
crockery and any other materials we had.
The next day, they came back to comb through everything. We could no longer
see any grass. Instead, we saw corpses; women with children on their backs who were
dead. The genocidal killers had undressed the bodies! It was a terrible sight.
As I was walking at night, I fell over my mothers body. I asked the survivors to
help me bury her. I don’t know where the bodies of my children and the other
members of my family are exposed.
The militiamen continued their attacks although there were not as many of
them as there were during the attack of 13 May 1994. Despite there being only a small
group of us left, now that practically all the people were dead, we carried on fighting.
Nzigira gave us much courage but unfortunately he was killed.
Nzigira and I were in an attack together, the day he was killed. The militiamen
were throwing stones and saying ‘These are the people who are preventing us from
receiving our reward from Obed Ruzindana. We have to find a way to kill them.’
Nzigira was then hit on the foot with a stone. He began to limp. I helped him withdraw
because I could see that it was impossible to carry on the fight. As we were walking
back, a soldier saw us and shot at us. Nzigira was hit and he fell. The militiamen came
to finish him off with a machete. I was shot in the knee but I was still able to walk. I
went and hid in a bush. The militiamen who saw me going to the bush, set light to it to
kill me. I escaped from the smoke and went to hide elsewhere.
I remained in Bisesero, with all the bodies around me. I couldn’t find anything
to eat or drink. I was very thin and my hair was dirty. My skin was all scaly because I
had not been able to wash myself for two months.
However, I was still alive when the French soldiers arrived to drive us to the
RPF zone in Gitarama. When the genocide was over, I came back to the commune of
Gisovu with another group of survivors. We inhabited the centre of Gakuta near the
office of the commune. We were really poor there and many people were ill. The
Hutus, who we had known before, would walk passed us, look at us and make fun of
us. They asked themselves if we were really the powerful Abasesero who were so well-
reputed. When we heard what people were saying, we decided to go back to our hill.
Three survivors got together and built a small house.
Now we live on our hill. We are just widowers who can’t farm. We no longer
have any cows to be able to drink milk. I am still young but I do not have the means to
do business for example and I have not done any studies to be able to find myself a job.
Before the genocide there were houses and cows around us; now there are only
bushes.
When the genocide was over, I was happy because I saw that there were no
more Tutsis being killed with machetes. Now survivors are again being killed with
machetes.
We are always being asked on the radio and in meetings to be reconciled with
the Hutu militiamen. I wonder how we can find the right moment to go and visit the
militiamen so that we can all be reconciled. There are many of us who are disabled and
cannot walk. At night, we stay in the bush because otherwise the militiamen can find us
in our houses to kill us. Because of this, we can no longer sleep. During the day, we do
not do anything because we are too weak and are spirits are so low. People should
know that we do not have time to be reconciled with militiamen who killed our wives,
mothers and children and who carry on killing us. They tell us that the prisons are full
and that there is not enough room for the other militiamen who should be imprisoned.
We do not have room in our hearts for reconciliation. Our hearts are full of sadness
and sorrow.
Interviewed in Gitaburo, 9 February 1997.
