Category: People

Under normal circumstances, a Rwandan child begins school at age 7, spends 6years in primary school, 6 years in college and 4years in university. At 23 years, the Rwandan child will be available for marriage.

If passed into law, the current proposition in a marriage bill that marriageable age in Rwanda be lowered to 18years from 21 might tilt the status and form of families in the country.

The citizens are anxiously waiting for the outcome of the parliamentary deliberations on the new marriage age in the bill.

However, it is literally impossible to find a common denominator on marriage age around the world. Factors including traditional customs, economic issues and religion play an important role in deciding the average age at marriage in different countries. The differences can be shocking.

In historical Rwanda society, the age at which men and women have married at altering ages during the monarchical rule and under the republics. Until recently, Rwandans have been legally fit to marry at the age of 21.

Quite stunning though, in Rwanda is that a Rwandan is mature enough at 16yrs to acquire a national Identity card but won’t marry until they are 21.

However, at 18 one can have sex, open a bank account and qualify for a driving licence. Its these controversial rights at different ages in Rwanda that most respondents want harmonised at a common single age.

In India and Pakistan, it is tradition that parents arrange weddings for their children when they are 17, however many brides there are getting married as soon as they turn 15. This is the case also in many African countries, where economic factors force parents to marry off their daughters at an early age.

Nigeria has some of the lowest averages in Africa, with most men getting married around 23 and most women at 17.

Igihe.com has since conducted a quick survey on the subject and we bring you in part some of the comments from the public as told to our reporter Diana Mutimura;

Annette Manzi, a first year student at Kigali Institute of Management (KIM) says that it is a great opportunity because some parents previously blocked their children getting married arguing that they were still young.

Manzi explains, “As for me age is just a number. What matters is love between me and my man but the only thing the government should do is to sensitize parents. I don’t think a mother can be happy when her daughter gives birth at home because she has denied her the chance of marriage”.

Pauline Ruzinda wants marriage age be put at 18years because girls grow faster than boys and by the time a girl is 21 she is too old and not attractive. Men do not mature faster as girls do. “I think this is will decrease family conflicts among parents that have sometimes disagreed on the age with which their daughters could be married off.”

Jane Murerwa shares her experience, “I first gave birth at the age of 19years but my family did not accept the idea of me getting married to my boyfriend. Here I am with two children to different fathers and I don’t have the hopes getting married in my life because am approaching my 30s.

Fred Ndahiro 30, a businessman in Kigali wonders whether government is copying western culture, “If the bill becomes law it will not consider only girls but even boys. A girl at 18 can get married but what about a boy of 18 taking someone’s daughter and starving her.”

Convention on Consent to Marriage, Minimum Marriage Age and Registration of Marriages an organisation for women Pro- Femme Twese Hamwe calls for every to backoff from the project in favor of protecting girl’s rights.

Parents want marriage age raised even higher. Pastor Theoneste Ngaboyisongo of Inkurunzuza church believes that God is the only one that gives a happy marriage not age.

Parents argue that at 18, both the boys and girls are psychologically young, dependants and still in school. They fear limiting legal marriage age would lead to a possible increase of divorces and family conflicts.

The parents also uttered the worry of their children that, if passed, the law may be the source of students to drop out of school.

However, women are starting to get married a little late(in their 30s) and want to have jobs and first be independent and help out their husbands in life expenses, but still culturally girls who do not work are more often asked “why aren’t you married yet” by people.

Many girls in college at the age of 18 are involved in and intimate relationship but most people nowadays do not even want to get married. They care more about other things such as family, jobs,

According to John Mugabo, “It hurts when you daughter comes back home because she has failed to be patient with her husband and for that reason my children can go for marriage while they are old enough to figure out all the consequences in the family”.

A radio journalist and mother of one Aisha Rutayisire disagrees with the age limit saying, “At 18 one is still young and just exposed to the world where you don’t know what you want and I don’t believe that person can stay in marriage. Government increase the age instead of lowering the age”.

However, it is believed that young couples have almost three times the chance of ending up divorced than people getting married after 27 years old.

It was the 7th of April, when the radio announced the breaking news of the death of President Juvenal Habyarimana. It was the beginning of the last precious moments for millions of Rwandan Tutsi’s, it was the beginning of a journey of survival for a young genocide survivor, who would forever have to live with the engraved memory of the unimaginable scenes she now sees every time she sleeps. From the darkness she passed through, today she lives among us to tell her story, to remind us when we forget her soul wrenching story.

A young woman small in stature, Francine Uwera, 27, moves with graceful small steps. Her dark skin is in contrast to the whiteness of her teeth. From afar, she seems as ordinary as any other young female Rwandan ; beautiful, graceful and timid. But Uwera is all those things and so much more, she is full of despair and hope combined, she smiles yet her eyes are sad, she holds herself up with dignity yet she is full of resignation, she is the past combined with the future. As she sits fidgeting with her fingers, she seems anxious, yet when she opens her mouth, her voice comes out strong and confident, in her words you can hear, anger, sorrow, confusion but most of all conviction. This is her story, this is her memory. 

“It was the 7th of April when my mother and I were at home waiting for my father to arrive to have our supper, my mother was ill at the time and instead of going to school, I stayed home in order to care for her. That was when we heard the news on the radio, the president’s plane had been shot down, and that was when the hour of death arrived at my door. In that instant by seeing my mother’s face, I knew that something terrible had happened, but I was young and didn’t understand the real impact of what this meant.

 My father came home shortly after, and without pause or explanation told us to leave the house and start running, he started shoving me out through the back door telling me, “Run, run Francine……… and don’t stop until I tell you, don’t stop for anyone else”.

My mother gave me her wrapper and told me to carry it to shield me from the rain. In the rush and confusion, I couldn’t possibly comprehend that they were not really following behind me, so I ran. When I got as far as the bushes at the end of the road, a sudden and terrible fear came over me. I could hear thousands of people screaming from what seemed like miles away from every corner, voices of crying women, men, and children. Even dogs were barking incessantly. I was terrified and hid crouched in the bushes.

I was not going to continue without my parents, so I decided to wait. I waited for what seemed like forever, then I saw them, the men who marched into my home and killed my parents. I could hear them say “we should kill them, kill them all.” I will never forget the sound of the cows crying as they were being slaughtered, and since then never have I been able to eat any kind of meat.

I knew I couldn’t stay there for they were sure to find me. I gathered all the courage I had and started running, all the while, mentally reciting all the prayers I knew. I ran till I could not run any more. But there was nowhere to go, and no one whom I knew. I did what many Rwandans were doing during the 100 days of massacre ; I lay down with the bodies of the dead and pretended what at that time I only wish were true.

 It would be impossible to tell you all the things I saw because most of the time, my face was buried in the ground, laying down next to the corpses, waiting for the militia to find and kill me. While praying to God, I started to doubt whether he even existed to save me.

All I can tell you is that Rwanda had become a real living hell ; the beautiful hills you see now were all on fire. Screams of thousands of people all in pain and agony rent the air, leaving your mind to imagine the horrible things these people were going through and what might happen to you too. If you want a clear picture of what the hell in the bible is described like, any genocide survivor can tell you.

I cannot explain to you why I had the will to continue or let alone live but I got up and continued walking half running, my feet were swollen and I thought I would die of thirst before the Hutus found me. As I was trying to evade the main roads the militia were driving through erected with roadblocks, a Hutu woman whom by the grace of God seemed to take pity on me located me. She hid me in the pit latrine in her house ; she would tie a long rope around my waist and throw some unripe banana leaves down. As I sat there for days in faeces, I asked the Lord over and over again, why he would allow this to happen. I wondered if we had committed a sin so great that God wanted to wipe out everybody as he did in the bible. But there is one question that I don’t think I can ever find the answer to. “Why did God spare me ? Why did a Hutu woman become my saviour.”

The days and nights had become one to me. I had become immune to the smell that had made me wrench a few days ago. Then one day, I heard men’s voices above me. As I sat in the latrine waiting, I looked up but could not see clearly. I waited for a grenade to be thrown down. I knew the final hour had come but then a man threw down a rope, telling me that they were ‘Inkotanyi. They had to coax me until the old woman, came and told me it was safe.

I climbed up wondering what they meant by “safe”. Had the killings stopped or were these men simply going to help me escape. I reached the disembarked from the pit and finally breathed fresh air.Have you every known what it is like not to remember what breathing clean air feels like ? No I believe you haven’t.

 I will never forget seeing the RPF soldier who stood in front of me as he pulled me out of the darkness into light. Of all the horrible things I saw and heard, of all the memories and sounds that still haunt me till today, the one I don’t ever want to forget. The memory I will always keep through that whole ordeal is the voice of the soldier and the way in which he told me : “Humura” , I was so overwhelmed that I collapsed. I sobbed uncontrollably. I yelled out. I felt my heart could take no more. I cried so hard I was left with no energy to even stand up.

All this time, the soldier was holding me gently repeating to me those words that have become a balm to my wounded heart. Since then, I have taken it a step at a time, with the help of the government and various organisations. I have been able to go to school and find work. After 17 years, I am beginning to let go of the pain. I have begun to believe that our country can recover and from testimonies such as mine. No survivor out there should ever feel alone as we did, and this, the world should know. 

Humankind is the most complex creature that God could have ever created, a creature so complex that every day is a new discovery into the minds and souls of man. The lengths they will go to to survive, the evil they are capable of, the things they will do in the name of love, but the most astonishing and beautiful act I have ever seen in mankind is the capability to forgive.

 We have all done wrong, and been wronged once in our life, and yet forgiveness doesn’t come easy. The story of the genocide in Rwanda is but one of the perfect example’s of the evil man is capable of, how man can turn on his neighbour, kill and hack both parents and infants that have been sharing the same air, roof and food with them without any remorse.

 Over 1 million Tutsi’s were mercilessly massacred, raped, and burnt alive and left for the dogs (and this I mean literally). The same goes to the attempt to exterminate the entire race of Jews by the Nazi’s, thousands of Jews were gathered and put into gas chambers, and left to die by Hitler and his henchmen. There are thousands of stories with similar cases around the world proving once again mankind is evil. There is only one story in the world though that can be told of a nation overcoming evil and finding peace and prosperity after such atrocities and teach the world the true meaning of forgiveness. That story is the story of Rwanda.

Rwanda recently marked the 17th commemoration of the genocide that was committed on the Tutsi’s in 1994. Every year, we remember those we lost, and every year it never gets easier. The first commemoration I ever attended was on the opening of the genocide memorial at Gisozi and I will never forget what I saw. Seeing and hearing the testimonies of the survivors, seeing a room full of children’s pictures with their names, hobbies and future dreams that will never come true and then reading how they were murdered was heartrending. I will not lie that when I left that place I was not sad nor disturbed, I was enraged. I had evil feelings and thought of the ways I would exert revenge on those that did this. I could have sworn that if I was one of the survivors, I would never, and I mean, never forgive the perpetrators, until I witnessed the story of two genocide survivors named Chantal and Rosaria and my evil thoughts and angered heart was silenced for good. During the memorial, they made us watch a documentary called ‘as we forgive’. It is a documentary about two women, who learnt not only to forgive those who murdered their families, but work and reconstruct their lives together.

  Rosaria lost her husband and four kids in the genocide. She remains with one child whom she calls ‘kadogo’. She says she so named her child because she is the last of her children. Rosaria is a practicing Christian but she says that after the genocide, she didn’t know if she would ever be able to talk about God’s graciousness and goodness after what she had experienced.

 The same goes for Chantal, a mother of one who lost her husband and is now fending for herself and her child. Moreover, she has no relative’s left alive. Chantal says she would never step into a church again. Even then, she wonders how God could have allowed this to happen. In the documentary, we witness the struggle, pain and suffering these two women have endured over the years after the genocide.

We watch Rosaria as she tries to begin her life all over again and we see her reading the bible, some captured scenes of her smiling. We then meet a man called Saveri, the man who butchered her family. He lives in the same neighbourhood and when asked if she would be able to forgive Saveri, she says she would do so. She reveals that the man even let him help to construct the house she now lives in. Later, we see them working and walking the streets together as though nothing ever occurred.

 Chantal, however, views things differently. When she was asked to forgive the man who killed her family, she could not even fathom the idea. As time passes by, my heart is full of questions as to whether I would be able to do what they were asking Chantal to do. I am in awe when several years later, we see pictures of Chantal and the perpetrator laughing and genuinely chatting.

 There is no other nation in the world that can claim to have ever recovered from genocide where perpetrators and victims actually shake hands, sit down and calmly chat as one asks for forgiveness and the other pardons.

 They say God travels by day and comes home to sleep in the hills of Rwanda by night. Otherwise, how else could you explain how a person can mourn their lost loved ones by day, and forgive those who took them away by night ?