Everyone on the boat is wet. Sure, the canopy provides some protection, but between the tears in the fabric and the wind it is impossible to stay dry. Still, despite the lightning, thunder, and tumultuous water there are moments of laughter as we attempt to converse with the small group of people joining us to weather the storm. During this, our second day in Rwanda, we took a trip across the countryside to meet some people, learn some history, experience some culture, and prepare ourselves for the events to come later in the week. We weren’t expecting a fast moving storm to force us to take refuge on Napoleon’s Hat (an island in Lake Kivu)…
Rwanda is an incredible place of extremes, and I am having trouble processing all the thoughts and feelings I am experiencing while here; so, I am going to think out loud a little bit in writing. Most people know that there was a genocide here 22 years ago and over a million people were killed. I find it hard to comprehend what that truly means for a people; and after visiting several memorial sites, a museum, and hearing stories of lost loved ones from people here, I still feel at a loss as to how to empathize. Around 20% of the population of Rwanda was outright killed in a 100 day period in 1994. More than 2/3 of Rwandans were displaced. A lone UN General asked for 5,000 soldiers to be deployed to stop this tragedy from happening, and he was told to wait until the situation developed a little more. To add insult to injury, the UN soldiers already on the ground were ordered to evacuate officials from the government which sanctioned the genocide and western workers instead of stopping the extremists perpetuating the killing. I’m not finger-pointing or assigning blame. I’ve been here two days, and this is a situation which far exceeds my knowledge and experience. What I do know is that millions of people were deeply traumatized. The country’s government, infrastructure, social structure, and economy were destroyed in the aftermath of the genocide. A description in the Kigali Genocide Memorial Center simply states, “Rwanda had died.”
Let me start by saying that while my heart breaks and I’m moved to tears, I don’t feel guilt for what happened in Rwanda. I was a freshman in high school when this occurred, living in the backwoods of South Carolina–a world away from the killing, and in no position to do anything about it. But now, being exposed to the reality of what happened here and people’s present suffering as a result, what do I do? While I may not be guilty, the actions of the killers and the lack of immediate international response is shameful. What is my responsibility in the face of such a great tragedy? The people of Rwanda feel that the western world turned a blind eye to them in the hour of their greatest need. Having experienced death on a (much) smaller scale amongst my own friends and family, I know that a response of no response is cold, isolating, and unloving to those who’ve been hurt. This said, a false sense of sympathy or empty platitudes are also hurtful, and bring no healing. So, what do you do when even a basic attempt at love demands a response but you know that you cannot truly share in someone’s grief? Theoretically, one offers a caring ear to listen, a shoulder to cry on (when necessary), and makes genuine effort to empathize and only speak truth (or say nothing at all). However, does this even make a difference? Can this even be done from one entire nation to another? Is it possible for two visitors to Rwanda to make a difference? The depth of evil experienced in a genocide is mind-boggling, and I wrestle with these questions. What am I doing here and what am I going to do?
Alexi 
is a Rwandan man acting as our guide while we travel through Rwanda. As a quick aside, Alexi is multilingual and speaks Kinyarwanda, Swahili, French, and Lingala, but only a tiny bit of English. After spending time at a genocide memorial, as Lydia and I get back into the car, I wonder, what do you say to a Rwandan who lived through the genocide, especially when broken French (3 years of high school French finally paying off) is your main mode of communication: “beautiful museum”, “really sad”, nothing and sit in silence? For me, I decided to simply ask him what it was like? It didn’t feel right to ignore the issue, but I also wanted to avoid being disingenuous. Using our growing French-English pidgin* I was able to hear his story:
Alexi lost his parents, and his wife’s parents and siblings in the genocide. The shock of the attacks caused his wife to go into premature labor and while they didn’t loose the baby, the child has struggled with birth defects his entire life. They had to run from their home and found refuge in a church…For him, he is thankful that it was not a church that was attacked.
As our time with Alexi was coming to an end, I struggled to find something to say, and a literal translation of what came out is, “I do not understand the very sadly of your your people, but I want for the God to work some good things.” The car was stopped, and he looked at me and simply said, “c’est grave” (it’s serious). Then, the three of us sat in the car in silence, sharing a moment of grief. At our next meeting, he called me brother.
So, all of this to simply set the context for work in a place like Rwanda. There have been billions of dollars and thousands upon thousands of man-hours put into restoration. There are beautiful buildings, infrastructure projects, and a current government working hard to truly reconcile the people with themselves. In only a few days time, I’ve experienced thriving business, heart-wrenching poverty, surprisingly delicious goat meat, and a people working hard to rebuild from next-to-nothing. This said, twenty years is not enough time for a people to heal from the trauma of genocide….c’est grave.
What are we doing here?
Well, God is at work, and I am happy to be a part of big and little things. In a days time, Lydia will be teaching at another AFMIN Women’s Empowerment Project launch in Kigali, Rwanda. As in Lusaka, Lydia will be teaching a course in Emotional Trauma, and helping teach other Leadership courses as well. The topic of trauma is hugely intense with women leaders who in some cases have lived through genocide, and in all cases have seen the effects of it. Lydia is praying for wisdom that she is able to provide these women with effective tools for bringing further reconciliation and healing to their recovering communities.
Unfortunately, many churches were killing sites during the genocide, and many people lost their faith and hope in God. There is no catch-all solution, and there is no right answer to solve the sociological and spiritual issues in a place like Rwanda. However, I do think that every loving act and genuine kind word helps to overcome evil with good. I believe that God working through people’s relationships with each other is a powerful agent for change, and if enough people engage in little loving acts, then we can see massive improvements.
Which 
brings us back to the lake, the storm, and the boat. Over the weekend, four of us chartered a local boat to travel across a portion of Lake Kivu. A storm arose while we were on the water and we took shelter on a small island out on this giant lake. Surprisingly (for me), there were several locals already on the island having rowed out on tiny boats–they were gathering wild fruits to take to market. While we sat in relative dryness under the boat’s canopy the locals gathered under a nearby tree. They did not want to approach the boat but were getting soaked and the temperature was dropping. Lydia spoke with the captain and he invited them all on board and we all shared our water while waiting out the storm. Now, I know that they wouldn’t have died; they could have drank from the lake; and let’s be honest, the storm wasn’t really all that bad. There was no sacrifice in letting them on the boat; we don’t share a language and have no way enacting a meaningful discipleship program in the moment. It would have been easy to rationalize away any responsibility in sharing the boat and to simply keep a distance and be relatively assured that everything is fine. All this said, I found the situation to be a perfect picture of the kind of situation and kind of rationale which leads humans to ignore and marginalize each other. Simply put, God has called us to be servants, and Jesus teaches that he who is faithful with a little can be trusted with much. I am here to serve in little and big ways. So, we all had some laughs as we awkwardly attempted to communicate, and even though we failed to communicate in words, for a short time, we were just a bunch of cold, wet members of humanity at the mercy of powers beyond our ken, and we were able to be at peace, as equals before our God.
What can you be doing?
So, if you’re still reading…I say thank you–these are thoughts that have been bouncing around in my head and needed to come out. If you’re reading this and any of it is tugging at your heart strings, then please simply take some time to a little more reading, some thinking, and some praying. This week, I would ask you to focus your attention on Rwanda and Burundi. There is currently a lot of political unrest in Burundi (a small African nation which borders Rwanda). While there has been unrest there since an attempted coup last year, there is now increasing violence and it seems that similar rhetoric is being used as was in Rwanda twenty-two years ago (right before the genocide). The perpetrators of the violence are starting to call for ethnic cleansing and many here believe that this is a resurgence of the same extremists who committed the atrocities in Rwanda. AFMIN’s Women’s Empower Project launch in Burundi has been delayed as extremists are targeting social gatherings and people traveling into cities. I am asking that people take a few minutes to look up some news about Burundi on whatever news source you trust, think about what you read, and take a little time to pray. While we cannot easily fix what is broken, we can certainly try to do better to prevent and respond in the future. Let God guide your hearts and your actions.
One final thought, while it is often best to respond to grief and trauma by simply listening to the hurting and being available to help those victimized, I also think we should treat these moments of empathy as an opportunity to look inside ourselves, and if there is any prejudice, hate, or callous disregard in your own heart then that–right there– is a great place to start changing your own life and worldview for the better.