It has been 31 years of pain, remembrance, and the heavy weight of history since the 1994 Genocide against the Tutsi—a tragedy that shattered a nation and left deep scars in its wake.
Yet today, we stand not only in mourning of what was lost but also in awe of what has been rebuilt.
As we mark Kwibuka 31, I have listened closely to testimonies from across the country—from Gisozi Memorial on April 7th, Nyanza Kicukiro on the 11th, Rebero on the 13th, to Shyorongi, Muhazi, Ntongwe, and the University of Rwanda Huye Campus.
These stories, some newly spoken after decades of silence, are heartbreaking yet vital. They are reminders that truth continues to rise from the ashes.
It is unfathomable how, in just 100 days, over one million Tutsi were killed by extremist forces simply for who they were. Churches became death traps, schools turned into killing fields. Even infants were not spared. Classmates turned on each other. Parents betrayed their own children. Rwanda was left in ruins.
As a young Rwandan born after 1994, I did not live through the horrors. I did not hear the radio broadcasts that incited genocide. I did not hide in banana plantations or cross roadblocks. Yet I bear a deep responsibility: to remember, to preserve the truth, and to challenge those who attempt to distort or erase it.
That is why I am writing this. Too many stories remain untold—whether from survivors or from the brave liberators, the Inkotanyi. Their voices are not just echoes of the past; they are living truths that guide us toward a future built on resilience.
To those who planned, funded, and executed the Genocide against the Tutsi: your aim to erase lives and history failed. From the ashes have risen stories—undaunted, unbroken, and louder than ever.
Today, it is not only survivors and liberators who carry the mantle. A new generation—the second generation of survivors—is stepping forward. Initiatives like Our Past, Igicaniro, and Walk to Remember are led by young Rwandans who have taken the lead in preserving memory and ensuring the world never forgets.
Our role as youth is no longer passive. We are now the guardians of memory. For many of us born after 1994, our connection to the genocide comes through stories from our parents, testimonies, and survivors we meet. But this connection must be active. We are the storytellers of truth in a world where some work tirelessly to distort it.
I’m inspired by how Rwandan student groups across the globe are organising Kwibuka 31 events—from Oklahoma Christian University to James Madison University—sharing these stories with the international community and reminding the world of the truth.
Denial, minimization, and revisionism remain dangerous. Whether it comes through outright denial, subtle blame-shifting, or claims of "freedom of expression,” these efforts insult survivors and threaten our shared humanity. Genocide denial is not an opinion—it is an attack on truth.
Facts cannot be erased. They are preserved in expert research, historical records, and the countless testimonies that continue to emerge. The world must recognise denial for what it is and recommit to "Never Again.” This is especially urgent today, as we witness the targeted killings of Congolese Tutsi in Eastern DR Congo—while much of the international community remains silent.
During these 100 days of commemoration, more stories of healing, forgiveness, and transformation will continue to rise. They must be documented and preserved. Memory must be kept alive—not just as a reminder of pain, but as a source of hope and strength.
As Rwandan youth, we must never let these stories fade. We must carry them forward—not as burdens, but as beacons, as the First Lady, Mrs. Jeannette Kagame, reminded us in her April 11 message: "Kubato babyirukiye mu Rwanda rurera rugakuza, kuzirikana aya mateka bidufashe gukomeza kubaka u Rwanda ruzima, rutazima.” For those of us raised in a nurturing Rwanda, let remembrance strengthen our resolve to build a resilient and enduring nation.
It is our duty to speak truth wherever we are—in schools, communities, and on the global stage. Because when truth is denied, hate finds fertile ground. Let us defend memory, challenge denial, and allow the thousands of rising stories to shape a Rwanda that is healed, united, and unshakable.
The writer is a National Youth Council Commissioner