Killed From The Altar

This singular photograph encapsulates my uncle, Samuel Bazirake, who, in November 1997, was forcibly taken from the church altar in the Bigogwe area of Mutura Commune, Gisenyi Province, by the Tutsi military officer Captain Richard Sezibera. This sinister abduction obscured Samuel and his fellow worshippers into an unfathomable abyss. In a tragic unveiling, their lifeless remains were unearthed in the Mahoko Caves of Rubavu, discovered by courageous civilians who guided Agence Presse to their resting place. Embedded below is a video capturing a disconcerting sight: Captain Richard Sezibera, a Tutsi military figure, guarding the very caves that concealed their bodies. Viewer discretion is strongly advised.

Picked from the Altar

During the turbulent period between October 1996 and 1998, the newly established Tutsi-led government, headed by General Paul Kagame, was implicated in significant atrocities. These included brutal massacres that occurred not only within the borders of the Democratic Republic of Congo but also inside Rwanda itself. The primary victims were Hutu refugees, who had been coerced into returning to Rwanda from their refugee settlements in the Congo. It is noteworthy that the international community, which had been backing the emerging Tutsi regime in Kigali, played a significant part in facilitating the expulsion of these Hutu refugees from the Democratic Republic of Congo.

The RPF attacks were orchestrated with the intention of retribution against the Hutus residing in the northern regions, who had hastily fled Rwanda upon the ascent of RPF Tutsi rebels to power. General Paul Kagame expressed his frustration during a speech in Kibuye province in 1995, citing his displeasure at the significant number of Hutus who had managed to escape Rwanda prior to being driven towards Lake Kivu. The General’s discontent stemmed from his belief that he hadn’t been given sufficient time to eliminate Hutus in 1994. He was further perturbed by the fact that a substantial portion of the population from northern Rwanda had successfully departed as early as May 1994. This departure was motivated by the awareness that Tutsi soldiers, under Kagame’s leadership, would execute them due to their alleged association with the region tied to the late President Habyarimana, whom Kagame had been accused of assassinating on April 6, 1994. This mass migration towards Zaire, now known as the Democratic Republic of Congo, effectively prevented Kagame and his troops from carrying out their intentions to quell the northern population, as they were considered steadfast supporters of the late President Habyarimana.

The RPF attacks were orchestrated with the intention of retribution against the Hutus residing in the northern regions, who had hastily fled Rwanda upon the ascent of RPF Tutsi rebels to power. General Paul Kagame expressed his frustration during a speech in Kibuye province in 1995, citing his displeasure at the significant number of Hutus who had managed to escape Rwanda prior to being driven towards Lake Kivu. The General’s discontent stemmed from his belief that he hadn’t been given sufficient time to eliminate Hutus in 1994. He was further perturbed by the fact that a substantial portion of the population from northern Rwanda had successfully departed as early as May 1994. This departure was motivated by the awareness that Tutsi soldiers, under Kagame’s leadership, would execute them due to their alleged association with the region tied to the late President Habyarimana, whom Kagame had been accused of assassinating on April 6, 1994. This mass migration towards Zaire, now known as the DR Congo, effectively prevented Kagame and his troops from carrying out their intentions to exterminate the northern population in 1994.

Tobacco Plantation Scheme

Kagame’s profound animosity towards the Hutus hailing from northern Rwanda was the driving force behind his government’s sinister stratagem. This scheme aimed to exploit the fertile volcanic terrain of northern Rwanda by converting it into a lucrative cash crop enterprise, all the while harboring the sinister intention of eradicating its indigenous inhabitants. The ruling RPF government orchestrated these malevolent designs, meticulously orchestrating the elimination of countless lives in northern Rwanda to create an ample expanse for cultivating tobacco.

The emergence of the Hutu rebels further complicated this volatile scenario. Comprising orphaned refugee children who had borne witness to the brutalities inflicted upon their parents by the RPF, they sought refuge in the forests and took up arms to safeguard themselves and their kin. Their actions were spurred by the chilling realization that Kagame’s regime posed an existential threat. The Kagame-led military campaigns, referred to as the Songamana Military Operations by Rwandans, left an indelible mark. Over a span of just seven months, these operations claimed the lives of over 200,000 Hutus in the northern provinces of Ruhengeri and Gisenyi alone.

Captaina Sezibera Richard of RPF guarding the bodies of the Hutus that the RPF had killed and threw their bodies in caves in Rubavu, northern Rwanda

Inscribed upon this map of Rwanda are the chilling chronicles of devastation – vividly depicting the sites where RPF Tutsi soldiers orchestrated the tragic fate of countless Hutus. Among these indelible marks, the scarlet symbols signify the locations where RPF cruelly summoned unsuspecting individuals under the guise of security meetings, only to unleash a barrage of gunfire that claimed thousands of lives. Amidst this unsettling landscape, a poignant emblem stands out: a crimson star encircled by a halo of yellow. Here lies the Mahoko caves, a grim abyss into which my uncle Bazirake Samuel and his companions were callously cast, their bodies left to languish in the depths, a harrowing act that transpired in November 1997. This map tells a somber story of lives disrupted and extinguished, a poignant reminder of the unhealed wounds that persist.

This image captures Dr. Captain Richard Sezibera, who, during his tenure as the Minister of Foreign Affairs under Kagame’s administration, suffered a stroke necessitating medical treatment in Israel. Notably, Sezibera’s legacy is stained by his involvement in the death of numerous Rwandan Hutu refugees. These refugees, seeking to return to Rwanda from Congo, were targeted, particularly those confined within the Nkamira concentration camps. These camps, established by the Tutsi regime, were a tragic backdrop to the recruitment of young men for subsequent slaughter. It was Richard Sezibera who oversaw these grim operations, leaving an indelible mark on Rwanda’s history.

It’s crucial to underscore that by 1997, the Kagame regime had already quelled a substantial portion of Hutus in southern Rwanda. Many of these individuals, swayed by ill-advised political leaders, chose to remain within Rwanda post Kagame’s ascent to power in 1994. Tragically, this proved to be a grave miscalculation, as Kagame’s subsequent violent crackdown went unchecked by Hutu politicians in opposition. This left the vulnerable Hutus at the mercy of Tutsi soldiers, prompting some to seek refuge in the Kibeho Hutu refugee camp. Even within the confines of the Kibeho parish refugee camp, supposedly safeguarded by UN peacekeeping forces from Australia and Zambia, these displaced individuals were not spared from the RPF’s ruthless wrath. By 1997, Kagame had effectively extinguished a significant portion of the Hutu population in southern Rwanda. Redirecting his focus, he now turned his malevolent energies towards those in the north who had thus far eluded his grasp in 1994.

The enormity of these figures, although presently provisional, provides only a glimpse into the profound tragedy that unfolded. Orchestrated by the same Tutsi military administration, led by General Paul Kagame and General Kayumba Nyamwasa, painstaking efforts were undertaken to obstruct local inhabitants and humanitarian organizations from meticulously documenting the grim toll exacted during the Songamana Military Operations, a distressing campaign primarily orchestrated by General Kayumba Nyamwasa. Spanning from October 1996 to 1998, a majority of those who fell victim to the actions of the RPF met their fate in the depths of caves, the expanse of forests, and the heart of mass graves, all under the vigilant watch of Tutsi security forces within Rwanda.

Yet, among those who endured the atrocities inflicted by the RPF, a somber awareness prevails regarding certain caverns deliberately sealed with cement by the RPF in 1997. This macabre act followed the disposal of Hutu bodies claimed by the military. Another chilling site, serving as a stark testament to the horrors of 1997, resides behind the Mukamira Military Camp in the Nkuri region, nestled discreetly behind the Mukamira Market. Within this area rests the mortal remains of innumerable Hutus, subjected to merciless demise at the hands of the RPF. Regrettably, it was within these unforgiving grounds that eight cherished individuals—my own cousins, Nigirente, Muhumuza, Ntamushobora, Habimana, Akeza Irene, Uwimana Juliette, and Karangwa, all students at Rwankeri College, Musanze College, and Gatovu College—met their premature ends under the watchful gaze of Tutsi soldiers. Their bodies, treated with callous disregard, were laid to rest in shallow mass graves concealed by the prickly veil of stinging nettle bushes, a grim tableau situated just beyond the boundaries of the military camp’s enclosure.

Amid the unyielding RPF assault in northern Rwanda, a distressing narrative of global significance emerged – reports disseminated detailing widespread massacres aimed at Hutu refugees returning from Congo. The urgency of these accounts was accentuated by resolute diaspora kin, who swiftly engaged the international media to ignite widespread condemnation of these heinous acts. As word disseminated, a solemn reality unfolded, punctuated by an evolution in the tactics of the RPF’s violence machinery. Recognizing that surviving Hutus could secretly retrieve their fallen loved ones for proper nocturnal burials, the RPF shifted its approach. Escalating their brutality, they led victims into forests for execution and burial. Alternatively, they cast the deceased into caves, allowing the bodies to decompose in isolation, a macabre strategy designed to erase evidence of RPF’s crimes.

By the year 1998, a chilling pattern emerged in Ruhengeri, where the RPF orchestrated a grim practice of discarding victims’ bodies into caves. Among the numerous locations where this harrowing strategy unfolded were caves spanning communes like Rubavu, Rwerere, Mutura, Nkuli, Mukingo, Kinigi, Nkumba, Nyakinama, Ndusu, Nyamutera, Nyamyumba, Kanama, Cyabingo, Ruhondo, Kigombe, Kidaho, Butaro, and many more.

Following the RPF’s brutal actions, its Tutsi soldiers, often individuals like Richard Sezibera with roots in Uganda, were deployed to stand guard over these caves until the bodies of the Hutu victims decomposed. This sinister tactic was implemented on a broad scale under the directives of figures such as General Kagame and Kayumba. As a result, thousands of Hutus who had tragically perished between 1996 and 1998 met this chilling fate, their remains consigned to caves under the watchful eyes of RPF soldiers.

Amidst the brutal surge of cruelty that swept through, one life consumed by its unforgiving tide was that of my cherished uncle, Bazirake Samuel. As the youngest sibling of my mother, he embodied strength and wisdom within our family and the broader community. Holding a respected professional role and serving as an elder in the local church near Bigogwe in Mutura Commune, he was the cornerstone of a family of six. The poignant memory of November 1997 remains etched in history, marking the scheduled sermon of my uncle at the church in the Bigogwe region. This solemn gathering, attended by his kin and fellow parishioners, witnessed my uncle, Samuel Bazirake, ascend the pulpit around 11 am. A lifelong tradition since his youth, he fervently preached, guiding souls towards spiritual redemption and preparing them for the divine realm.

Tragedy, however, chose that pivotal moment to unveil its heart-wrenching visage. In an abrupt and callous intrusion, Tutsi soldiers under the command of Captain Richard Sezibera surged into the sacred altar—a space hallowed for reverence—forcibly wrenching my uncle and his fellow worshippers away from their spiritual sanctuary. The scene that unfolded was one of heart-rending anguish, as his wife and children bore witness to this unforgiving act in sheer horror, their souls shackled by helplessness. The chilling weight of realization settled in—the arrival of Tutsi soldiers in 1998 bore the ominous premonition of impending slaughter. What were once days of fervent anticipation for his safe return transformed into a relentless torrent of despair. A month elapsed, ultimately revealing a cruel truth—a discovery that echoed with haunting resonance, unearthed by the locals and Agence Presse within the Mahoko caves near the Bigogwe military camp. Among the decaying remains of those innocent souls so heartlessly snatched from the church altar, lay his identification, a painful testament to lives stolen.

Mere weeks before the tragic events that followed, my uncle Samuel had miraculously escaped the clutches of an earlier Tutsi soldiers’ assault on Mahoko Open Market. Accompanied by his wife and daughter, Iribagiza Antoinette, he had ventured there to procure weekend provisions. As recounted by my cousin Antoinette, who emerged as a survivor on both occasions, the morning of Friday, August 8, 1997, dawned with bustling activity in the market, only to be shattered by a sudden eruption of violence. RPF soldiers, in a chilling echo of the past, unleashed a relentless barrage of gunfire upon the assembly of nearly 50,000 individuals. Strikingly, the RPF had beforehand forewarned Tutsi families dwelling near the Bigogwe military Camp to avoid the Mahoko open market that fateful Friday. As daylight waned, the RPF soldiers descended upon the Mahoko market, claiming the lives of an estimated 1500 souls. Astonishingly, my 11-year-old cousin, Iribagiza Antoinette, managed to survive the ordeal, her narrative a testament to the grim tale of how she, her parents, and their anguish, concealed themselves within an abandoned toilet shielded by overgrown stinging nettle bushes, enduring until the ceaseless gunfire finally subsided

Behold, a glimpse into the haunting expanse of Nkamira Transit Centre, situated within Kanzenze Sector of Rubavu District. In this grim setting, warehouses that once harbored the aspirations of a milk factory were repurposed to incarcerate Hutu refugees. Tragically, this place witnessed the untimely demise of countless young lives, orchestrated by the hand of Captain Richard Sezibera. From 1996 to 1998, Sezibera held dominion over this concentration camp, its very name becoming synonymous with suffering and despair. Adjacent to the camp stands the ominous Bigogwe military camp, a place shrouded in shadows where individuals were forcibly seized, destined to meet their tragic end within the camp’s confines. The narrative woven within these somber walls casts a haunting pall over the history of this place, a poignant reminder of the atrocities committed and the lives forever altered.

This expanse before us bears witness to the Bigogwe Special Operations Forces (SoF) Military Camp, an ominous presence in proximity to the Mahoko Caves where a multitude of innocent Hutu civilians met their tragic end. Amid these barracks, victims brought here by Tutsi soldiers endured untold suffering. The anguish of this place became etched in history when my uncle, Bazirake Samuel, and his companions were seized by Tutsi soldiers and transported to this very military camp. Within its confines, their lives were marred by unspeakable torment, ultimately succumbing to the horrors inflicted upon them. The cycle of agony persisted, as those whose remains were unceremoniously discarded into the Mahoko caves had first endured harrowing ordeals within this camp. I recall my friend Ndagijimana recounting his mother’s visceral reaction – whenever she traverses the path between Mukamira and Rubavu and her gaze falls upon the Bigogwe Military Camp, a wave of nausea overcomes her. It’s a visceral reminder of the moment Tutsi soldiers from this camp invaded her home, snatching away her three sons: Leodomile Iryamukuru, Epimaque Mutuyimana, and Habarugira Gad. Their fate remains shrouded in uncertainty. Ndagijimana, in the wake of these tragedies, sought refuge in Uganda in 2001, a poignant testament to the harrowing impact of the past.

Amidst the painful aftermath, our family ingeniously wove a facade, a fragile tapestry of optimism meticulously nurtured by my uncle’s sisters, uncles, and his children’s mother. This collective effort kindled a gentle hope within us, a hope that my beloved uncle, their father, who was snatched from us, might one day return from a distant undertaking. However, the hands of time have proven unyielding. As the years marched on, swelling to a quarter-century tally, his children and his cherished nephew—bereaved for nearly three decades—have matured into the precipice of old age. The yearning for the long-lost embrace of their father and treasured uncle remains as poignant as ever. Within the void carved by his absence, the relentless march of time magnifies the ache of unanswered queries, casting long shadows over the years of potential left unfulfilled, a future cruelly denied.

In the face of this tragedy, the superpowers that govern our world have withheld the balm of justice for these innocent souls. The horizon offers no solace, leaving us grappling with a grim reality where closure and reparation seem distant dreams.

However, amidst our profound anguish and unrelenting pain over the loss of our beloved son, a disheartening reality emerges – even as we grapple with our grief, the prevailing system saw fit to generously reward Captain Richard Sezibera for his fervor and the grievous atrocities he perpetrated against the Hutu population in Rwanda and Zaire. This unsettling truth becomes all the more apparent when considering his trajectory. In the year 1999, Dr. Captain Richard Sezibera ascended to the role of Ambassador, representing Rwanda in the United States of America. He was later elevated to the esteemed position of Minister of Foreign Affairs within Kagame’s administration.

Ironically, the very caverns that once cradled my uncle and his companions, their remains slowly succumbing to the passage of time in hushed decay, have undergone a profound metamorphosis. Much like the infamous Musanze caves, which bore witness to the heart-wrenching fate of countless individuals from Kimonyi, Gataraga, Musanze, Muko, Kinigi, Ruhengeri, and Nyamagumba, the Mahoko caves too have been subjected to a process of cleansing, purification, and adornment. Today, they stand proudly among the ranks of Rwanda’s captivating attractions, enticing those who journey here to bear witness. Just as these caverns once indiscriminately enveloped the spirits of my dear uncle Samuel and others, they now extend a wide, albeit eerie, invitation to unsuspecting tourists who, shielded by their blissful ignorance, remain oblivious to the haunting stories that reside within the cavernous depths.

As these visitors marvel at the revitalized splendor of Rwanda, my uncle’s spirit lingers in the embrace of the Divine, his yearning for justice echoing through the ethereal realms. In the face of a world that has callously withheld retribution, his soul finds solace in the hands of the Giver, fervently praying for the long-awaited dawn of justice to break upon us at last.

My uncle’s story is not an isolated tragedy but a poignant reflection of the broader narrative that saw countless Rwandan Hutus suffer a similar fate. Trapped within their own homeland, their lives were extinguished and their bodies callously discarded. Some of these caves, serving as silent witnesses to unspeakable suffering, were sealed with cement—a desperate attempt to shield these horrors from the prying eyes of human rights organizations and international observers.

Regrettably, the quest for justice, an imperative for my uncle, his companions, and the multitude of Rwandans and Congolese who suffered, continues to slip through our grasp. The cloak of safeguarding, deftly wielded by Western superpowers, has shrouded the pursuit of justice in a somber veil, allowing the Kagame regime to sidestep the crucial reckoning it deserves. In our collective remembrance of those ensnared by this unfathomable darkness, their narratives stand as poignant reminders of the urgency to unearth truth – a truth that should emanate from the very voices of the victims themselves, unfiltered by the lens of Western propaganda and the intricate web of geopolitical interests that strive to shield their proxies. This resolute pursuit will ensure that the anguishing footprints of such atrocities are never etched again upon history’s path.

As years passed by and Bazirake’s offspring matured and comprehended the inescapable reality that their father’s return was an impossibility, the consequence of falling victim to Captain Richard Sezibera’s ruthless deed, their tears and inquisitive hearts turned to God in search of answers. Yet, within the scriptures, a refuge is found through the verses in the book of Romans 12:19-21 (KJV), a passage guiding us away from seeking personal retribution and instead embracing divine retribution, for it is stated, “Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.” While our Christian teachings counsel us not to derive satisfaction from the suffering of our adversaries or to actively pursue vengeance, they also prompt us to recognize the emergence of God’s justice.

The year 2019 witnessed the enigmatic vanishing of Captain Richard Sezibera, who had held the role of Minister of Foreign Affairs. During the latter months of that year, the Kagame regime shrouded Sezibera’s fate in secrecy, compelling the Kigali media to maintain silence. Amid these intrigues, General Kagame appointed Vincent Biruta as the new foreign minister, spawning conjecture about Sezibera’s fate, causing some to assume he had been dismissed. Nonetheless, the divine orchestrator of justice, particularly attuned to the orphaned progeny of my uncle Samuel Bazirake and the countless Rwandans who had endured suffering under Captain Richard Sezibera, was at work. On December 18, 2019, Sezibera’s presence in Kigali unveiled an arresting tableau – images circulated of him, partially paralyzed, hinting at a stroke. This unforeseen twist in events reinforced the potent significance of prayers directed at one’s adversaries, even those who have wronged us, as the unwavering hand of God’s retribution is steadfast, whether it arrives swiftly or lingers.

The captured moment depicted in this photograph is of General Kayumba Nyamwasa, being interviewed by Agence Presse on December 20, 1997, within the confines of the Bogogwe Special Force Camp. He held the pivotal role of operations commander during the year 1997, overseeing the RPF soldiers’ activities in Gisenyi and Ruhengeri, as well as orchestrating Kagame’s military maneuvers in Zaire/DRC. Tragically, under his command, a devastating tide of slaughter swept across the land, with hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of Hutu refugees meeting a tragic end. Whether fleeing into the depths of the Congolese forests or coerced back to Rwanda, the fate of the Hutu refugees remained unrelenting and merciless. Young Hutu males, singled out from their families, were ruthlessly led to places ominously named Golgotha, where their lives were abruptly extinguished, forever leaving their parents in agony. It is within this harrowing backdrop that the stories of my two cousins, Ishimwe and Iradukunda, unfold. Their journey led them to the Bigogwe Military Camp, where Tutsi soldiers plucked them from their parents’ midst, condemning them to the Gishwati forest, where their lives were heartlessly taken. This photograph encapsulates a chapter of pain and loss, serving as a stark reminder of the indelible suffering etched into the the Rwandan history of that era.

The paragraph inaugurating the November 1997 Amnesty International report, titled “The dead can no longer be counted” (“On ne peut plus compter les morts”), stems from an anonymous account given by a Gisenyi resident in northwestern Rwanda. During the span of October, November, and early December 1997, Amnesty International was inundated with near-daily accounts detailing the killing of unarmed civilians within Rwanda. These accounts were characterized by extrajudicial executions carried out by soldiers from the Rwandese Patriotic Army (RPA), as well as deliberate and indiscriminate killings perpetrated by armed opposition factions. Instances of particularly grave violations committed by both sides are presented within this very report. The geographical focus of these distressing incidents primarily lay in the northwestern Gisenyi prefecture, with additional occurrences reported in the adjacent Ruhengeri prefecture. More recently, instances of killings have also surfaced in the centrally located Gitarama and Rural Kigali prefectures. This document constitutes an update to a previous 55-page report issued by Amnesty International on September 25, 1997, titled “Rwanda: Ending the Silence” (AFR 47/32/97), which outlined the human rights landscape in Rwanda spanning from January to September 1997.

Dr. William A. Twayigize

DR. WILLIAM