“WORKING SHOULDER to shoulder, after sharing our struggles and tears, is forging a powerful bond,” said the woman laboring at my side. “Death once swept our land, but life has its own momentum.” When the fieldwork was done, we built a stable for Theresie, who had shared her hut with a cow. The young people helped, hauling poles and erecting the walls and roof.
“We’re building more than a shed—we’re building a living church,” Theresie exulted. “Whoever has food or money, health or vigor, shares with those who have none—just like the first believers in Jerusalem. Who cares if we are not highly organized—we are sisters!”
At least 95 Rwandan pastors died protecting their congregations during the genocide. Their witness and sacrifice stand forever. The majority of pastors, however, ignored, supported, or even joined the killing. So institutional Christianity had lost its credibility in our country. But we now discovered that Jesus does not need steepled buildings or religious trappings. He visits and unites humble, broken people.
Before Karin and I left Mukoma at the end of those nine days, the village gathered once more at my mother-in-law’s compound. Consoletia chose this moment to publicly dedicate her property to the work of healing.
“Is it possible?” a woman’s voice cried out. “Here at Consoletia’s compound, where 44 Tutsi were killed, God is opening a spring of life.”
Jubilation erupted, but my mother-in-law raised her hand for silence. To my amazement, I heard her declare, “I want those who killed, also, to become human again. In this place, they, too, will learn to love.”
From From Red Earth: A Rwandan Story of Healing and Forgiveness, by Denise Uwimana, published by Plough Publishing House (April 2019). Reproduced by permission.
Denise Uwimana is a survivor of the 1994 Rwandan genocide and the founder of Iriba Shalom International, an organization that provides material and spiritual help to genocide survivors.
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