‘We refused to wait for death’: Inside Mwulire’s stand in 1994

In April 1994, hundreds of Tutsi sought refuge in Mwulire Sector, Rwamagana District, believing it would offer safety. Tragically, the hill they trusted would later become a site of mass killing during the Genocide against the Tutsi. ALSO READ: The Mwulire massacres in the eyes of Genocide survivor Uwambaye Yet it was also marked by the bravery of those who resisted. Jean de Dieu Gatamba was 20 years old at the time and is among those who survived. According to him, the genocide did not begin in April 1994. The groundwork for mass murder had been laid years earlier, with warning signs woven into daily life long before the killings began. ALSO READ: Surrounded and outnumbered: Why resistance failed during the genocide He recalls being in Primary One when a teacher ordered students to stand and separated them by ethnicity—Tutsi on one side, Hutu on the other. Confused, young Gatamba stood with the Hutu. The teacher beat him. ALSO READ: Bisesero: Stronghold of courage during the 1994 Genocide against the Tutsi “He told me, ‘You are a Tutsi.’ As a child, you didn’t always understand what that meant,” Gatamba recalls. April 7, 1994 On April 7, 1994, the plane carrying former President Juvénal Habyarimana was shot down, and the killings began that very night. The following morning, Interahamwe militia attacked Gatamba’s neighbourhood. “One of the Interahamwe, using a microphone, told us, ‘Separate yourselves—Tutsi on one side, Hutu on the other.’ The Hutu were allowed to leave. We remained under a tree.” What followed were days of desperate movement—scattering into fields, hiding in hills, and searching for any place where there were no killers prowling around. Many survivors from Sovu, Nzige, Nawe, and surrounding areas eventually gathered in Mwulire. “We ended up in Mwulire because it was on higher grounds. From the top, we could see where the attackers were coming from.” He arrived there with his immediate family—his father, mother, and nine siblings. Of the 10 family members, only four siblings survived. Among the more than 500 people on the hill was a young man named Guido, whose determination would shape what followed. “He told us we must try to defend ourselves and not just wait to be killed,” Gatamba says. Guido organized the men into defensive positions around the hill—near the sector offices, the chapel, and toward Kigabiro—so that attackers approaching from any direction could be spotted and confronted. Their weapons were rudimentary: sticks, stones, and improvised spears. From April 8 to April 18, the hill held. “The attacks continued. We tried to defend ourselves using sharpened sticks and stones.” “We also listened to Radio Muhabura, which reported on the progress of the Inkotanyi. They encouraged those who could to defend themselves, saying they were near.” On April 15, Interahamwe militia, communal police, and soldiers from the communes of Bicumbi and Muhazi launched a coordinated attack. “We followed Guido’s instructions: when they fired, we lay down. Some were still hit, but we fought back all day.” April 18 “We were attacked from all sides for about six hours. Many people were killed. Guido, who had been leading us, was shot and killed. After his death, panic spread.” By evening, the survivors had only one option left. Around 5 p.m., Gatamba and others hid beneath the bodies of the dead. When the attackers withdrew, a small group attempted to flee toward Gishari, hoping to reach the Inkotanyi advancing from the east. Instead, they were intercepted and taken to a police station—fewer than 100 of them. “A gendarme [police officer] there refused to let them kill us. Not out of compassion—there were simply too many bodies already,” Gatamba recounts. The following day, they were moved again and eventually reached Rwamagana Hospital after managing to escape. But even there, the killing continued. The next morning, perpetrators entered the hospital, bound the men and boys—including the injured—and prepared to execute them. Then came the sound of gunfire from behind the building. “We heard on the radios that the Inkotanyi were near Rwamagana and Kayonza. Soon after, we heard shooting behind the hospital—it was them.” In the chaos, women freed the tied men. Gatamba and others ran. When they encountered soldiers on the road, expecting death, they asked to be killed. “They told us they were Inkotanyi. They told us to be strong. That was April 20—I will never forget that day.” “I immediately asked them if I could join them to continue the struggle to liberate others and help free the country.” “The genocide did not end immediately in that area, but we were fortunate to encounter the Inkotanyi early,” he says. On April 22, he joined the RPA and took part in the liberation struggle. Message to youth Today, Gatamba lives in Rubona Sector, Rwamagana District, with his wife and eight children. He says that 32 years after the genocide, young people must do everything possible to ensure it never happens again. “They should fight against genocide ideology in all its forms. The peace we have today did not come easily—it came at the cost of many lives,” he says. “Young people must protect it and stand against division wherever it appears.”

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‘We refused to wait for death’: Inside Mwulire’s stand in 1994