For Rwandan filmmaker Alexandre Sibomana, videography has evolved from a creative pursuit into a powerful lens through which to understand one of the country’s darkest chapters. Now 36, Sibomana was just four years old during the 1994 Genocide against the Tutsi—too young to remember it firsthand. Like many in his generation, his early understanding came through school lessons, commemoration activities, and stories shared by elders. Over time, his work behind the camera placed him at the heart of memory-focused productions such as When the Hills Remember, where he served as cinematographer and editor, and Izingiro ry’Amahoro, a film exploring peace and reconciliation in post-genocide Rwanda. These projects, he says, transformed his understanding of history—from something abstract into a deeply human reality. “At first, it felt like something I understood intellectually,” he told The New Times. “But when I began working on documentaries, everything changed. It became real.” Through years of documenting testimonies from survivors, witnesses, and even perpetrators, Sibomana found his perspective profoundly reshaped. Filming in places where atrocities occurred and listening to firsthand accounts brought a new emotional depth to his work. “Hearing survivors speak in real time, and being in those locations, made me grasp the weight people still carry,” he said. Some encounters left a lasting imprint. While working on one documentary, Sibomana filmed a survivor who recounted being raped during the genocide and losing nearly her entire family. The experience was compounded by interviewing the perpetrator and visiting the exact site where the crime took place. “That moment forced me to confront the reality of what happened in a very direct way,” he said. “It made me reflect on the scale of these crimes.” In the same project, he also documented confessions from individuals who admitted participating in killings—an experience that required both emotional resilience and professional discipline. “As an editor, I have to be very careful about how these stories are presented,” he explained. “Every cut, every silence matters. You want the audience to feel the truth without distorting it.” Beyond the pain, Sibomana says his work has also exposed him to stories of courage. He recalls accounts from former RPA Inkotanyi fighters who risked their lives to rescue civilians—narratives he believes are essential to telling a complete story. “It’s important to show not only the tragedy, but also the resilience and the people who stood up to stop it,” he said. For Sibomana, filmmaking begins long before the camera rolls. Building trust with participants—especially survivors—is central to his approach. “You’re not just filming subjects; you’re working with people who carry very deep experiences,” he said. “The human aspect always comes first.” Technically, he favors a minimal, non-intrusive setup that allows stories to unfold naturally. “Technique should serve the story, not dominate it,” he added. Beyond personal growth, Sibomana believes videography plays a vital role in preserving memory and educating future generations. “Film creates an emotional connection. It helps people not just understand, but feel the consequences of hatred and division,” he said. He also sees it as a tool to confront genocide denial, noting that recorded testimonies provide enduring evidence. As part of a generation too young to fully witness the genocide, Sibomana believes young Rwandans have a responsibility to carry the truth forward. “We have a duty to preserve this history and tell it accurately,” he said. “Videography has helped me not just learn about it, but truly understand it.”
