Rwandans reinvent themselves through forgiveness for genocide

Thirty years after the violence of the genocide in Rwanda, Carl Wilkens, a humanitarian aid worker who lived in the country at the time of the genocide, is still grappling with what he saw.

Wilkens –speaking at Limmud Johannesburg on Sunday 25 August – moved to Rwanda with his wife and children in 1990 to build schools and generally improve the living conditions of those in Rwanda. However, when the genocide started in April 1994, many American citizens were told to evacuate Rwanda to escape the violence.

Wilkens and his wife made the seemingly impossible decision that he would stay in Rwanda to try and save the two people living in their house who were Tutsi and marked to be exterminated by the Hutu militia. His wife and their three young children went to Kenya.

While in Rwanda, Wilkens saved about 400 people and still returns annually to meet people impacted by the genocide, many of whom lost family members to murder.

Wilkens told the story of one woman, Maria, whose husband and sons had been murdered in the genocide by a man called Philbert, and how she and this man had forged a close relationship in the years since the genocide. When Wilkens heard that Philbert was the one who killed Maria’s husband and sons, he couldn’t understand why Maria would have a relationship with such a person.

However, Maria told Wilkens that though she was angry and hurt that her husband and sons were no longer alive, through Philbert, she was able to find out where they were buried.

While Maria tells Wilkens all the positive things about Philbert, he is left dumbfounded and angry at such an ease of forgiveness. He told the Limmud audience, “I’m really upset with myself for the way I’m reacting to this. I don’t like it, but it’s the way I’m reacting,” he said, “And I realise I’m stuck in 1994. Maria isn’t stuck in 1994. I’m stuck in seeing him as a mass murderer. She’s not stuck in seeing him this way.”

Wilkens believed that Maria’s befriending of Philbert and having a positive attitude towards him diminished his accountability, but he came to realise that this is the way that the Rwandan people have tried to move forward.

“Rwanda isn’t hell-bent on punishment and prosecution of ordinary people, it’s hell-bent on healing,” said Wilkens.

Maria had told him, Wilkens said, that “she would never forget that he had killed her husband and sons, but she’s no longer surrounded by anger, she’s surrounded by wonder and amazement that she was able to have closure.”

In telling this story, Wilkens realised his anger came from a real place, but he also realised that, “I put Maria in the spotlight. I’m asking her all the questions. She’s graciously responding. But when she gets a chance, she steps out and puts Philbert in the spotlight. She starts trying to help me see life from Philbert’s perspective. That’s a massive key to getting free of anger and bitterness and being able to see life from the perspective of the perpetrator.”

Although this perspective does repulse him at times, “It’s becoming less revolting as the years go on,” he said. “It’s obscene to me. It’s not fair to me. This idea of fair has ruled my mind ruthlessly all my life, and I didn’t even know it until I started confronting restorative practices.”

Wilkens said Rwanda had set up its courts in response to the genocide in a way that says, “We aren’t prioritising blame, we’re trying to understand the harm so we can heal.”

To this day, “Rwanda is trying to restore peace and security so that you can have some empathy and safety. You can then begin to unpack the harm because if you unpack the harm without empathy and safety, you’ll make things worse.

“You can’t pay back for murder, rape, and all those things,” Wilkins said. “But you can show that you’re more than the worst thing you’ve done. You can show you’re more than one thing. And so, these opportunities for people to reinvent themselves are vital.”