Left to Tell: Discovering God Amidst the Rwandan Holocaust

Standing alone behind the school, Immaculée opens the letter:

My heart ached as soon as I saw his quirky handwriting, remembering all the letters he’d written me during the years we were in school—letters that were never sentimental, but always filled with love and tenderness, encouragement and praise, sound advice and gentle chastisements, gossip and humor…so much humor (151).

The letter is dated May 6, 1994, and addressed to Immaculée, their parents, and Vianney. He writes that they have all been “living a nightmare” and that he will contact them as soon as “peace returns” (151). There is a break in the letter at this point, and Immaculée later learns it is because Damascene was just informed by his friend Bonn that his parents and Vianney had all been killed—so his letter was addressed to people no longer alive. With Immaculée the only sibling of his who is possibly still alive, he addresses the remainder of the letter directly to her and her alone: “Immaculée, I beg you to be strong. I’ve just heard that Mom, Dad, and Vianney have been killed. I will be in contact with you as soon as possible. Big hugs and kisses! Your brother, who loves you very much” (152). The letter is extremely painful for Immaculée to read.

Much later, Damascene’s friend, Bonn, relays the details of Damascene’s death to Immaculée. After hiding in a hole dug in Bonn’s yard for nearly three weeks, Damascene is found by the Interwahame when he tries to flee to Zaire. Before killing him, they make him strip down to his underwear, as a form of humiliation. Knowing that he has a master’s degree, the Interwahame taunt Damascene by saying that they’d like to what his brain looks like before taking the machete directly to the crown of Damascene’s head.

The French base camp is heavily guarded against Hutu extremist violence, giving Immaculée and the other Tutsis a great sense of relief: “The soldiers parked eight tank-like armored vehicles in a semi-circle in front of the school buildings, and the outer perimeter of the camp was patrolled day and night by at least 100 guards” (157). The soldiers tell the Tutsis that it is their duty to protect them and that they will let no harm come to them at the camp. One French soldier takes this to the extreme, saying that he feels so strongly about protecting the Tutsi that he will kill any Hutu on Immaculée’s behalf—she just needs to say the word, and he will do it. His offer shocks Immaculée, and she ruminates on how this kind of reactionary sentiment perpetuates cycles of violence throughout history.

Immaculée’s role in the camp is one of caretaker. She looks after her aunts and cousins as best she can, and she also helps translate between French and Rwandan. She talks to many of the other Tutsis there and lets them tell her their own tragic stories, which Immaculée sees as part of her divine mission. She informs one Tutsi woman that “‘God has spared you for a reason […] I’m writing down your story, and someday someone will read it and know what happened. You’re like me—you’ve been left to tell’” (161).

In her work as translator, Immaculée becomes close friends with a French soldier named Pierre. After weeks of working closely together, Pierre develops a crush on her, though Immaculée is not interested: “I’d just lost my family, and I wasn’t sure if I’d live to see the end of the war. I’d also given up on romance after John had let me down so badly. Even so, Pierre made me wonder if my broken heart could ever love another person again” (162). Immaculée tells him directly that, though she cares about him and will pray for his well-being always, they must remain friends.

By early August, the refugee camp is overflowing with Tutsis, so the majority of them must be relocated to a second French camp nearby. Immaculée stays and continues her translator duties, registering and helping document people as new refugees trickle in. One of the new refugees brought to the camp is a “local celebrity” by the name of Aloise:

My parents had spoken highly of her to me when I was a child as an example of how far a person can go with hard work and determination […] Jean Paul told me that her husband worked at the United Nations in Kigali, and Aloise had gotten to know all the diplomats and ambassadors (166).

Aloise uses a wheelchair due to the fact that she lost use of her legs when she had polio as a young girl. Aloise recognizes Immaculée as the daughter of Leonard and Rose as soon as she lays eyes on her. Unbeknownst to Immaculée, Aloise is indebted to her mother, due to the fact that Rose provided money to Aloise’s family when they fell on hard times. As repayment to Immaculée’s mother, Aloise offers to have Immaculée, along with her aunts and cousins, come live with her and her husband in Kigali.

In late August, Operation Turquoise is coming to a close, so the French soldiers notify Immaculée and the rest of the Tutsi refugees that they will need to be relocated. The RPF has a camp just a few miles away, so the French will be taking them there. With few possessions, everyone quickly gets ready to leave. The refugees are loaded onto the back of a truck: “The tailgate slammed shut, the canvas tarp was rolled down to conceal us, and the truck rolled forward” (170). The road to the RPF camp is littered with Interwahame, and therefore very dangerous.

Only halfway to the RPF camp, the truck stops, and the French captain comes around to the back, saying that due to reports of gunfire in the area, they have been given orders to turn around. Immaculée and the rest of the refugees will need to exit the truck and walk the rest of the way to the RPF camp. With so many Interwahame along the road, this feels like a death sentence to Immaculée, who begs the captain to change his mind, but he refuses, so:

[o]ne by one, my friends hopped out, until all 30 of us were standing there facing the killers. When everyone was out, two French soldiers lifted Aloise down onto the road and deposited young Kenza and Sami beside her. Then the soldiers climbed into the cab, and the truck pulled away at high speed leaving us in a cloud of dust and uncertainty (172).

The Interwahame immediately start taunting Immaculée and the group of Tutsis. They ask mockingly who will save “these cockroaches” now that the French have left them (172). Immaculée begins praying intensely to keep them safe. She also mentions to one of the Interwahame that the RPF are nearby, which makes the Interwahame nervous. Leaving the group behind, Immaculée tells them to wait there while she and Jean Paul go to the RPF camp nearby to get help. They will then have the group escorted back. As Immaculée and Jean Paul make their way, Interwahame are everywhere, but somehow Immaculée and Jean Paul are not attacked. Immaculée credits this to the power of prayer and the protection of God. They make it to the RPF camp, located in another abandoned church, but their joy and relief quickly turn to fear when the RPF draw their weapons at the sight of Immaculée and Jean Paul.

The RPF soldier guarding the entrance of their camp treats Immaculée and Jean Paul with hostility, disbelieving that they are truly Tutsis. He thinks they are Hutu spies, sent to attack the camp. He asks them, if they are truly Tutsi, how could they be alive? Suddenly, Immaculée hears someone calling her name: “‘Immaculée? Immaculée Ilibagiza?’” (176). It turns out this soldier is Bazil, a moderate Hutu neighbor of Immaculée’s who has gone to fight with the RPF. With this vote of confidence proving their identity, Immaculée and Jean Paul are allowed entrance into the camp. The major signals for one of his underlings to collect Aloise and the rest of Immaculée’s group stranded along the road.

Aloise and the rest of the group are brought safely to the RPF camp, and Aloise’s “sunny disposition and independent spirit” warm the soldiers spirits: “[…] they were most impressed with her unbeatable optimism: She never complained about her lot in life, and she made the most of every situation, no matter how difficult” (178). Immaculée busies herself by volunteering to help cook at the camp, but when she goes outside to build a campfire, she is nauseated by a ghastly smell. She asks one of the soldiers what the smell is, and he replies by taking her to a courtyard further behind the church where she sees “an image from hell: row upon row of corpses, hundreds and hundreds of them stacked up like firewood. A black carpet of flies hovered about them, and crows picked at the top layer of the dead” (179). At that moment, Immaculée understands that Rwanda will be forever scarred by this genocide, and she makes the decision that she will ultimately leave.

An RPF officer volunteers to drive Aloise, Immaculée, and the rest of their group the five-hour journey to Kigali, the country’s capital city and the location of Aloise’s home. When they finally arrive, the city is a shell of its former self: “The streets are deserted except for the occasional United Nations truck or RPF Jeep darting along the empty roads, swerving to avoid corpses in the streets” (180). The RPF officer leaves the group outside the United Nations, where Aloise’s husband Fari has been staying. After a joyous, tearful reunion with Fari, Aloise and the group make their way to Aloise’s home, located about a mile from the UN. It is the first time that either Aloise or her husband have seen their home since the war broke out, and they find that “[t]he place was a mess. The windows had been blown out, the walls were riddled with bullet holes, and part of the roof had caved in” (182). The entire group pitches in to help clean up.

After setting up in Aloise’s house, Immaculée decides that she needs a job to earn income to help support herself and the other refugees. With war having ravaged the entire country, opportunities to earn income are scarce, but Aloise’s husband suggests that she see if they have any openings at the United Nations. When he points out that they typically hire only those who are fluent in English, “[m]y mind snapped to attention. Of course! After all the United Nations was the reason God had led me to study English in the bathroom in the first place” (183). Disheveled from months of not bathing and having worn the same clothes, Immaculée walks up to the United Nations building to ask for a job, but a receptionist shoos her away. She prays to God that she will be accepted for employment and also decides that she needs to make a trip to her college campus at Butare, where she left her high school diploma and other documents related to her education. Once she has proof of her education, she will be in a better position to ask for a job.

Immaculée runs into a former professor of hers in Kigali, and he agrees to drive her to Butare. When she arrives, she is horrified to see that the campus is littered with corpses of her fellow classmates: “Student records blew across the campus like tumbleweeds, and after all these weeks, there were still so many bodies on the ground. I couldn’t bear to look, fearing that I’d see the corpse of Sarah or one of my other dear girlfriends” (186). Miraculously, Immaculée finds her high school diploma, a university progress report, and nearly $30 in scholarship money. She takes a taxi back to Kigali and buys a new dress so she will be presentable for her next trip to the United Nations. She also buys groceries for everyone staying at Aloise’s house.

The next morning, she returns to the United Nations to look for a job, this time armed with appropriate interview attire and her high school diploma. Once again, Immaculée is denied a job, but on her way out, a man stops her in the hallway. He tells her not to worry, that she should report to his office the next day. He hands her a business card with his name and title: Pierre Mehu, Spokesman, UNAMIR (United Nations Assistance Mission for Rwanda). The next morning, when Immaculée meets with Pierre, he tells her that she will still need to pass all the required tests for secretaries at the United Nations, but with her education, he does not anticipate it will be a problem. Immaculée passes the tests easily and begins working with Pierre.

In early October, after nearly a month of work, Immaculée loves her new job at the United Nations: “I was continually learning new skills, meeting new people, and honing my English” (190). Meanwhile, Tutsi refugees begin returning to the country, not only from the 1994 genocide but from the 1959 and 1974 genocides as well. Hutus flee, fearing vengeance killings. Immaculée makes plans to move from Aloise’s home to live with her old college roommate, Sarah, at her family’s home with her elderly parents. Immaculée finds that “[a]t Sarah’s, my wounded heart slowly became strong enough for me to put the words I still could barely speak down on paper. The time had come for me to write my brother Aimable, who was still in Senegal and didn’t even know I was alive” (191). Letting Aimable know about the deaths of her parents, Damascene, and Vianney is incredibly difficult for her, but the chapter concludes with her beginning a letter: “I placed my father’s rosary on the table beside me and began to write: My dearest Aimable, this is the saddest letter I have ever written, the saddest letter you will ever receive…”(192).

Working at the United Nations during this time, Immaculée finds it difficult to ignore her pain over losing her parents. The genocide is one of the organization’s primary concerns, and therefore Immaculée must relive it daily. When a Senegalese officer asks Immaculée about where she is from, she begins to cry when she mentions her hometown province of Kibuye. Feeling compassion over her plight, he offers to give Immaculée a lift to visit, if she wants. Immaculée is delighted by this offer and immediately accepts.

Two weeks later, she and her friend Sarah board a helicopter bound for Mataba, Immaculée’s village in Kibuye. Neither of them had ever flown in an aircraft before. She ruminates on her situation from the helicopter: Looking down at my beautiful country, it was hard to believe the ugly truth of the genocide. How many times had I wished during those dark days that I’d been born a bird? […] And now here I was, flying back to visit the scene of the crime” (194). After landing, they make the five-mile journey to Mataba, which fills Immaculée with emotion:

My mood quickly dissolved into morbid sadness as we drove beneath the familiar sky of my childhood. I began weeping as we turned onto the road where my brothers and I had walked so often, then passed my mom’s now-deserted schoolhouse, and rolled by the path we’d followed my dad along to go for our morning swims in Lake Kivu (195).

When they arrive at her childhood home, it is completely destroyed: There is no roof or windows, and only a few partial walls stand. Neighbors nearby notice that Immaculée has come to visit, and they go to greet her. One of Damascene’s friends tells her where Damascene and her mother’s final remains are buried, and so she makes plan to “properly lay [her] mother and brother to rest” (197).

Most of Immaculée’s Tutsi neighbors, including her two aunts, attend the burial for Damascene and Immaculée’s mother. When Damascene’s body is exhumed from the shallow grave, to be brought to a proper burial site, Immaculée insists on seeing the remains, despite protests from her aunts and neighbors. She wants confirmation that he is truly dead. At the sight of Damascene’s lower jaw—she recognizes the teeth from his smile, which she had always loved—she faints on sight. When it comes time to retrieve her mother’s remains, she decides it is best to look away. Damascene and Immaculée’s mother are buried where their home once was, “in the center of one of the rooms where laughter and love had once echoed” (199).

Back at the United Nations, Immaculée does not feel peace:

I knew that my family was at peace, but that didn’t ease the pain of missing them. And I couldn’t shake the crippling sorrow that seized my heart whenever I envisioned how they’d been killed. Every night, I prayed to be released from my private agony (201).

Immaculée has a vivid dream that she meets her deceased family—her parents, Damascene, and Vianney—in heaven. In the dream, Damascene tells her to stop mourning them because they are at peace. After the dream, Immaculée feels as though a weight has been lifted from her shoulders.

A few weeks later, Immaculée takes another helicopter ride to her hometown of Mataba. This time, however, she visits the local prison instead of her family home. At the prison, she arranges to meet the leader of the gang that killed her entire family. An officer brings the man, named Felicien, out to see Immaculée: “I watched through Semana’s office window as he crossed a courtyard to the prison cell and then returned, shoving a disheveled, limping old man in front of him” (203). When he is finally brought before Immaculée, she takes his hands in hers and tells him he forgives him. When she does this, her “heart eased immediately, and I saw the tension released in Felicien’s shoulders before Semana pushed him out the door and into the courtyard” (204). The book concludes with Immaculée explaining to the jailer that forgiveness is all she has to offer.

The Epilogue is an overview of Immaculée’s life beyond the genocide. She continues to work at the United Nations and spends her free time volunteering at a Kigali orphanage. In late 1995, she finally reunites with her brother, but their relationship is strained:

We hugged and kissed but cautiously, for I was afraid of his pain and he of mine. We found it difficult to look each other in the eye, knowing that if our true feelings surfaced, we’d be unable to control them—that if we began crying, we’d never be able to stop (205).

Even a decade beyond the genocide, Aimable and Immaculée never talk about their family in the past tense—they refer to them in the present, as if they are still alive. Immaculée also details how she meets her husband Bryan, a fellow employee at the United Nations. As they are both Catholic, God is an important feature in their marriage. They go on to have two children.

Lastly, Immaculée discusses how being a genocide survivor has allowed her to have a profound effect on other people’s lives, as she tells her story and spreads her message of forgiveness.