The Ntarama church massacre

In the weeks before the genocide, rumours of trouble were everywhere.

Innocent Rwililiza remembers the day his Hutu neighbour stopped him as they were walking home from work and said, “Innocent, listen to me, I need to tell you that you are all going to die.”

Like many Rwandans, Innocent, a 38 year old school teacher from Nyamata, found that hard to believe. They had survived trouble before, and they would survive again. But when the President’s plane crashed on 6th April, they got very scared. “We continued teaching in the daytime but for fear of underhand tricks, slept far from our homes in the bush at night,” he said.

On 11th April, a Monday morning, the interahamwe militia attacked townspeople with clubs and machetes. “They started with prosperous shopkeepers first, because even then they were above all preoccupied with getting rich.” A little later, people heard a lot of gunfire. Soldiers had arrived in town.

There was panic. Some people ran to the town hall, hoping for some protection from the local authorities. But the mayor came out and told them, “If you go back home, you shall be killed. If you escape into the bush, you shall be killed. If you stay here, you shall be killed. Nevertheless, you must leave here, because I do not want any blood in front of my town hall.”

Thousands crowded into church compounds. Alisa, who had arrived at Ntarama church with her family on 7th April, said, “We all thought that if we came into the house of God no-one would touch us.”

Ntarama church survivors

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Angelique, aged 25

Throwing stones at the militia
"Three days after the plane crash, a small company of us moved into the church at Ntarama: my family and neighbouring folk, with bundles of what we needed to survive.

During the day, the courageous ventured out into the surrounding fields to bring back some food. At night, we slept inside or outside, according to who was weak or fit. When the interahamwe encircled the fencing, men began letting stones fly so as to slow down their advance. The women gathered the stones, because they did not want to die any old way.

I forgot about breathing
But our resistance did not have much vigour behind it. Grenades exploded at the front door. I was positioned at the back, I raced down the slope, I ran so fast I forgot about breathing for an hour, then dived into the marsh urunfunzo, which I knew by reputation. Urunfunzo are papyrus trees.

At this moment, I did not of course have any idea that for the next month I was going to spend my days in the mud, covered from head to toe, under the tyranny of the mosquitoes."

Angélique Mukamanzi
25 year old farmer. Hill of Rwankeli (Musenyi)

Francine, aged 25

They killed with all their might
“The interahamwe began hunting down Tutsis on our hill on the 10th of April. The same day, we upped and left in a group, planning to stay in the church in Ntarama because they had never been known to kill families in churches.

We waited five days. An endless flow of fellow farmers kept arriving, we came to be a large crowd. When the attack began there was too much noise to take in every twist and turn of the killings. But I recognised many neighbours’ faces as they killed with all their might. Very early on, I felt a blow. I collapsed between some benches, pandemonium all around. When I woke up, I checked to see that I was not dying.

I crept out amongst the bodies and escaped into the bush. Amongst the trees, I came across a group of fugitives and we sprinted all the way to the marshes. I was to remain there a month.”

Francine Niyitegeka
25 year old shopkeeper and farmer. Kibungo Hill

Janvier, aged 14

Waiting to die
The interahamwe prowled about the small wood around the church for three or four days. One morning, they all came in a group together, behind soldiers and local policemen. They broke into a run and started hacking people, inside and outside. Those who were massacred died without saying a word. All you could hear was the commotion of the attacks, we were almost paralysed, in the midst of machetes and the assailants' cries. We were almost dead before the fatal blow.

My first sister asked a Hutu of acquaintance to kill her without any suffering. He said yes, and he dragged her by the arm out onto the grass, where he struck her with a single blow of his club. But a next door neighbour, nicknamed Hakizma, yelled that she was pregnant. So he ripped open her belly like a pouch in one slicing movement with his knife. This is what these eyes saw without mistake.

Among the bodies
I crept out amongst the corpses. Unfortunately a boy managed to push me with his metal bar, I dropped onto the bodies, I didn't move anymore, I made dead man's eyes. At one moment, I felt myself being lifted and thrown, and other people fell on top of me. When I hear that the interahamwe leaders whistle the order to pull out, I was completely covered in dead people.

It was towards evening that some courageous Tutsis from the area, who had scattered into the bush, came back to the church. Papa and my big brother pulled us free from the heap, me and my very bloodied youngest sister, who died a littler later in Cyugaro. In the school, people put dressings of medicinal herbs on the wounded. In the morning, the decision was made to take refuge in the marsh. The was to happen again every day, for a month.”

Janvier Munyaneza
14 year old cowherd. Hill of Kiganna (Kibungo)

Ntarama church killers

FULGENCE: A very special day
"First I cracked an old mama’s skull with a club. But she was already lying almost dead on the ground, so I did not feel death at the end of my arm. I went home that evening without even thinking about it.

Next day I cut down some alive and on their feet. It was the day of the massacre at the church, so, a very special day. Because of the uproar, I remember I began to strike without seeing who it was, taking pot luck with the crowd, so to speak. Our legs were much hampered by the crush, and our elbows kept bumping."

ALPHONSE: Working conscientiously
"The Thursday when we went to the church in Ntarama, the people just lay there in the dim light, the wounded visible between the pews, the unhurt hiding beneath the pews, and the dead in the aisles all the way to the foot of the altar. We were the only ones making a commotion.

Them, they were waiting for death in the calm of the church. For us, it was no longer important that we found ourselves in a house of God. We yelled, we gave orders, we insulted, we sneered. We verified person by person, inspecting the faces, so as to finish off everyone conscientiously. If we had any doubt about a death agony, we dragged the body outside to examine it in the light of heaven."

ALPHONSE: A well organised welcome
"The first evening, coming home from the massacre in the church, our welcome was very well put together by the organizers. We all met up again back on the soccer field. Guns were shooting into the air, whistles and suchlike musical instruments were sounding.

The children pushed into the centre all the cows rounded up during the day. Burgomaster Bernard offered the forty fattest ones to the interahamwe, to thank them, and the other cows to the people, to encourage them. We spent the evening slaughtering the cattle, singing, and chatting about the new days on the way. It was the most terrific celebration."

Many of the quotes on this page from A time for machetes. The killers speak by Jean Hatzfeld. Images by Dave Fullerton

genocide

In this section

STARTING A GENOCIDE
Whose idea was it?
How did it start?
The foreigners are leaving
Hate radio
DETAILS
Roadblocks
The little things
INSIGHT
A simple plan
This new job
A strangeness of mind
Personalities
A good man
FOCUS ON THE BUGESERA
The Bugesera
Ntarama church massacre
A day in the marshes
MZUNGUS
The role of the west
Two French missionaries
A journalist's story
THE END OF THE GENOCIDE
The refugee crisis
A country with nobody home

The Ntarama church massacre

Angelique, aged 25

Francine, aged 25

Janvier, aged 14

A day in the marshes

Where does it hurt?

Going home