The Ride

I arrived to the Congo yesterday. I was driven from Kigali, Rwanda to the Congolese border by Deo, a fascinating man. He is a Tutsi and was in Kigali during the days leading up to the genocide in 1994. He described his survival during our three hours journey.

He was targeted during day one of the genocide and scrambled around the city to avoid capture. The rebels visited his house on numerous occasions and they finally found him. They used wooden clubs and beat him until they thought he was dead. He managed to regain consciousness and took refuge in a ditch for a week long period. No food, little water with rebels always heard overhead.

He then made his way to a local cemetery but was spotted again. Shots rang out, he fell to the ground and pretended to be dead for the entire day. When the rebels left, he began walking again and stumbled on Rwandan soldiers. He made it out alive. Unfortunately, 68 members of his family were murdered; four sisters, his father and most of his nieces and nephews.

Despite his losses, he remains optimistic about reconciliation.


One Response to “The Ride”

  1. Francisco Acosta Says:

    This sure puts our lives in prespective. Wow!

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