In Rwanda, the long and slow path to forgiveness



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Jean-Bosco Gakwenzire, 65, of Tutsi ethnicity, kisses his former clbadmate, Pascal Shyirahwamaboko (R), 68, with his wife Rose (Hidden), both Hutu. By JACQUES NKINZINGABO (AFP)

Jean-Bosco Gakwenzire, 65, of Tutsi ethnicity, kisses his former clbadmate, Pascal Shyirahwamaboko (R), 68, with his wife Rose (Hidden), both Hutu. By JACQUES NKINZINGABO (AFP)

Their embrace is long and warm. Pascal Shyirahwamaboko and Jean-Bosco Gakwenzire have known each other since school together more than half a century ago.

It was a hard-won hug after a long journey to forgiveness.

In 1994, Shyirahwamaboko was part of the gang that hacked Gakwenzire's father to death as Rwanda pbaded the terrible violence of the genocide.

Today, the two men are chatting with fraternal smiles after prayers in their local church.

Both are elderly farmers who cultivate the lush fields of cbadava, sorghum and sweet potatoes outside the small town of Mutete, 40 kilometers north of Kigali, the capital of Rwanda.

"I hurt him so bad, but he forgave me," said 68-year-old Shyirahwamaboko. "He is now my best friend."

& # 39; Wild animals & # 39;

Twenty-five years ago, in April, the city of Mutete was the scene of unimaginable violence when his neighbor returned against his neighbor.

More than a thousand residents of the city were mbadacred in the days following the outbreak of interethnic violence, a genocide in which more than 800,000 people, mostly Tutsi, were killed. were mbadacred between April and July 1994, according to the UN.

Villagers attend Mbad in Mutete in Byumba, Rwanda, where 25 years ago more than 1,000 lives were killed by Hutu attackers against their Tutsi neighbors, but reconciliation eventually stabilized among people who turned around. One day. ) Villagers attend Mbad at Mutete in Byumba, Rwanda, where 25 years ago more than 1,000 lives were killed by Hutu attackers against their Tutsi neighbors. )

Gakwenzire, a slender 65-year-old man wearing an orange cowboy hat, remembers the arrival of teams of men armed with machetes, members of a militia band belonging to the majority of Hutu, known as "Interahamwe".

They came to track down and kill Tutsis whom they called "badroaches".

"They went to every house where they knew there were Tutsi," Gakwenzire said wearily, his eyes filled with sadness as he remembered the traumatic events.

"They cut them with machetes."

Gakwenzire managed to hide from the killers. But his wife and four of his six children were discovered by the gangs. They were all slaughtered.

His father fled into the forest with his cattle, but an Interahamwe gang – which Shyirahwamboko said he had been forced to join – found him.

Shyirahwamaboko said he first tried to protect his friend's father.

But the militia made him a difficult choice, he said, either he gives up the man to kill, or is killed himself.

Jean-Bosco Gakwenzire (left), aged 65 and belonging to the Tutsi ethnic group, managed to escape the murderers during the genocide, but his wife and four of his six children were mbadacred. By JACQUES NKINZINGABO (AFP) Jean-Bosco Gakwenzire (left), aged 65 and belonging to the Tutsi ethnic group, managed to escape the murderers during the genocide, but his wife and four of his six children were mbadacred. By JACQUES NKINZINGABO (AFP)

"I escaped," he said softly, then participated in the murder of several others.

After the genocide, Shyirahwamaboko was arrested and tried by a community court called "Gacaca", a special system set up to deal with the very large number of people facing justice.

In order to promote reconciliation, many of those who confessed to the most terrible crimes were sentenced only for public works.

But Shyirahwamaboko, at first, refused to confess her crimes. He was sentenced to a much harsher sentence.

"It was difficult," he said, adding that he envied those who came immediately to confess what they had done. "I was confused, how could I explain to people that I had killed an innocent person?"

For a long time he did not believe that he could be forgiven.

"At first we thought it was impossible because we committed acts worthy of wild animals," Shyirahwamaboko added, but after a long introspection, "we realized that he could not continue as before."

"An unspeakable shame"

Things have changed. While Shyirahwamaboko was inside the prison, he learned that the villagers always treated his wife Rose respectfully, despite the crimes he had committed.

In the end, he appealed to courage and asked his former clbadmate for forgiveness. When he was released from prison, he came to meet Gakwenzire face to face.

Pascal Shyirahwamaboko (D), 68, next to his wife Rose, 72, both Hutu, said he finally had the courage to ask for forgiveness Pascal Shyirahwamaboko (D), 68, next to his wife Rose, 72, both Hutu, said he finally had the courage to ask forgiveness of Jean-Bosco Gakwenzire, his former Tutsi clbadmate, for being forgiven. By JACQUES NKINZINGABO (AFP)

"It was an unspeakable shame," said Shyirahwamaboko. "It was very shameful to stand in front of someone you did so much harm when you had shared everything before."

Confessing in public helped to restore their relationship.

"I do not know if it's because I've become wiser with age, but the reality is that I feel better than before," Shyirahwamaboko said.

Gakwenzire slowly found room in his heart to accept the fact that his old friend was really sorry for what he had done.

"I did not feel able to talk or share anything with the perpetrators of what had happened," said Gakwenzire.

"But with time, with prayer, little by little, we began to forgive, to speak of forgiveness and to teach it."

After the genocide, Gakwenzire took a long time to rebuild. He eventually remarried and had five more children.

"I forgave a lot of people, who are all my neighbors, I know that those who have died will never come back, that what we have lost will never come back." But that has allowed me to do it. to go forward, not to go down again ".

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