Each year, during Kwibuka, Rwanda pauses to remember the lives lost during the 1994 Genocide against the Tutsi. For the country’s youth, this responsibility carries two dimensions: understanding how young people were drawn into violence in 1994, and recognizing their role today in protecting truth, unity, and national memory. ALSO READ: Killing many in a short period; how civilians were prepared for the Genocide In 1994, the youth were not just bystanders. Many were actively mobilized into the machinery of violence. Militia groups such as Interahamwe were largely composed of young men who were systematically indoctrinated. They were fed a steady narrative of division, fear, and dehumanization. Through propaganda, political manipulation, and social pressure, they were conditioned to see fellow citizens not as neighbours, but as enemies. ALSO READ: Who exactly failed the Rwandan people in 1994? This did not happen overnight. It was the result of years of distortion, where identity was weaponized and reinforced through institutions, media, and everyday discourse. Young people, often without economic opportunity or critical exposure to alternative views, became easy targets for mobilization. They were used as instruments in a project they did not design but ultimately helped execute. ALSO READ: Rwanda’s commemorations in the shadow of indifference Recognizing this is not about assigning blame to a generation. It is about understanding how vulnerability, when combined with manipulation, can be turned into something destructive. It also underscores a critical point: youth are not inherently a force for good or harm. They become what the system around them shapes them to be. Today, that system is fundamentally different. Post-genocide Rwanda has placed strong emphasis on unity, inclusion, and equal opportunity. The structures that once institutionalized division were dismantled. Young people grow up in an environment where national identity takes precedence over ethnic categorization, and where access to education, public services, and opportunities is not determined by background. Before 1994, exclusion was not incidental; it was structured. Access to education, employment, and leadership was uneven, with some groups privileged and others systematically marginalized, particularly Tutsi. That imbalance created resentment, normalized discrimination, and laid part of the foundation for what followed. Today, the emphasis is on equity and shared citizenship. Youth are not raised into parallel realities. They compete in the same classrooms, access the same institutions, and are encouraged to see themselves first as Rwandans. This does not erase history, but it changes the trajectory. However, the challenge has evolved rather than disappeared. The space where division once spread through radio and local networks has now expanded into digital platforms. Social media is a new frontier where misinformation, denial, and genocide ideology can circulate, often subtly and across borders. Narratives can be repackaged, distorted, and amplified at a speed that was not possible before. This is where today’s youth are increasingly active. Many young Rwandans are engaging online not just as consumers of content, but as defenders of truth. They challenge denial, correct misinformation, and provide context grounded in history. They use digital platforms to share testimonies, commemorate victims, and reinforce accurate narratives about the country’s past. This form of engagement is not always visible, but it is significant. It reflects a shift from passive remembrance to active protection of memory. In an environment where information is abundant but not always accurate, the ability to distinguish, verify, and respond becomes essential. At the same time, youth are investing in understanding history more deeply. Through education, memorial visits, and community dialogues, there is a conscious effort to move beyond surface-level knowledge. Learning about the causes, the mechanisms, and the consequence of the genocide is part of building resilience against its recurrence. This matters because misinformation thrives where knowledge is shallow. A well-informed generation is harder to manipulate. It is less likely to accept simplified narratives or engage in the kind of binary thinking that fuelled past divisions. The role of youth today is therefore not symbolic. They are expected to uphold unity in their daily interactions, to challenge harmful narratives when they encounter them, and to remain informed about their country’s history. They are also beneficiaries of a system that aims to provide equal chances, and with that comes a responsibility to protect and strengthen it. Commemoration is not only about looking back. It is also about assessing whether the conditions that allowed such a tragedy to occur are being actively prevented. In Rwanda’s case, the contrast between past and present is clear. A generation that was once vulnerable to manipulation is now equipped with education, access, and a unifying national framework. The tools have changed, the environment has changed, and the expectations have changed. What remains constant is the need for vigilance. The responsibility carried by youth today is not to relive the past, but to ensure that its distortions do not find new ground. The writer is a public policy and socio-economic governance enthusiast based in Kigali.
