Left to Tell

This is not an ordinary book. Not because it is great literary work, nor because it was written by some one popular, but because it involves experiences most of us cannot even conceive going through. Importantly yet, fewer can conceive coming out stronger from those experiences. Yet, that is what Immaculée Ilibagiza did. And we are talking about the Rwandan genocide.

Humanitarian divisions are very common. We see them everywhere. In fact, they are so ubiquitous that you frown when you don't see them. Blacks and whites, Hindus and Muslims, Protestants and Catholics - and even between divisions, subdivisions and micro subdivisions - the way the human mind works is mapped with the way humanity is divided. And in Rwanda, we have Hutus and Tutsis. Funnily, these divisions were created by Belgian rulers arbitrarily through judgement, and in retrospect turned out to be the most heinous of decisons. When the Rwandan president was murdered (a Hutu), it was assumed that Tutsi's did this. The exact causes, I am not sure - the most pivotal aspect was that the Hutu's had a good reason to remove the Tutsi minorities out of Rwanda (and the face of the planet).

What followed next is beyond any comprehension. In a span of 100 days, one million corpses were generated (over 400 corpses an hour, round the clock on average). Machetes were used primarily for killing - and the Government supplied grenades, machine guns and regular guns and empowered the Hutu civilians to carry out the genocide. The country was shut down until the "job was done". The whole world watched as Rwanda descended into hell. This was 1994,  I wasn't even watching. I was in school that time, programming in Pascal. No one was spared, the young, the old, men, women, babies. Something of this scale in the recent past, as the book quotes, was the extermination of Jews by the Nazis. I think the Rwandan genocide was worse for two reasons. It happend just fifteen years ago, when we were supposed to have come far away from such epic atrocities. Second, I think a form of madness overtook everyone. Because, eventually it was not just the Tutsi's who were targeted. Moderate Hutu's were targeted as well. These were people who were Hutu's, but did not want to kill. Eventually, the killing machine started spinning just for the sake of killing. Corpses - hundreds, thousands were piled up on the road.

Anyway, this book is unique not for the suffering depicted, but for the faith of the author. She hid in a pastors home (who was Hutu) along with 6 or 7 other women in a 6x4 feet bathroom for over two months. Hutu hunters searched for her in the pastor's house to kill her. Hundreds of them, multiple times over the duration of the two month period. The bathroom was hidden, and at times, less than two inches of plaster and wood separated the killers and the ladies. Please think about her for a moment. If she was caught, she would be killed. Not ordinarily, but in ways you probably do not want to think about. As fear gripped her, she tried to pray to God to protect her. Earlier, when there was in the bathroom, with nothing else to do, she prayed. She prayed for hours together and went to a space of peace within her. She was also tormented by hatred and anger towards the killers. Then, she knew God demanded unconditional love - nothing less, to meet her. And eventually, in her heart, she found it in her to pray to God to forgive the killers. In one such episode of a hunt in the pastor's bedroom (which had the bathroom they hid in), the possibility of her getting caught was menacingly close (how hard would it be for 100 people searching the room to spot the bathroom and find the six-seven ladies?). And she was praying for faith. As her prayer intensified, with no response, she desperately asks God, "God, I am praying so hard. What would it take for you to help me?" And she receives a response. "Immaculée, faith moves mountains. But if faith were easy, all mountains would be gone." She then sees a blinding flash of light (a cross) screen the entrance to the bathroom. She jumps in joy and shouts to her companions, "Don't worry, we will be safe". The killers leave the house again finding nothing. Up until this point, I was reading the book in my mind. I knew what I was reading. I read grimly, without any emotion. This portion of the book broke me. With her prayer and devotion, she was able to blind the killers to her existence in that tiny bathroom.

In another instance, she stares at a killer with a machete right in the eye and prays to God to send a message of love to him. The killer turns away and drops his machete. And finally, after all the nightmare ends, she goes to the jail to meet the man who murdered her mother and brother to tell him she forgave him. I remember watching an American journalist describe an incident when he was videographing her later. She hugs a man she meets. The journalist asks her who he was, and she says it was the man who murdered her mother and brother (I think, anyway it was someone close to her). The journalist steps back in alarm, and she says "It's ok!". The journalist tells us, "No it's not ok! How can it be ok?".

Here Immaculée is, after losing her father, mother, two brothers in the genocide, sending a message of forgiveness and unconditional love. I think it is the power of people like her all over the planet that counterbalances the devil in all our hearts. She says she could, at one point after her initial rage and vengeance, see the killers as victims; when God tells her "You are all my children"; she sees the killers as children who were hurting others not knowing what they were doing.

The genocide is a scar on humanity. The wounds are not fully healed and may be lurking beneath the surface. The scars will never go. At our current state of evolution, we see that something minor can spark of a trail of violence. We are not at peace with ourselves. In that respect, I have the following observations about the genocide and what we can do to learn from them:

1. It is very important to ward off evil thoughts - anger, irritation, frustration. While we can think we can never bring ourselves to do something as extreme as what happened in Rwanda - I was shocked to hear about friends and neighbors killing Tutsis. The madness that gripped people was unbeleivable. I was hurt when I learned about friends killing friends; teachers killing students! How could you kill someone whose shoulder you had your hand in one day? As it turned out, Immaculé's brother was killed brutally, and his friend was among one of the killers. They were people who did things together in college, played basketball together. Eventually, the remorse that gripped him tore him apart. He vowed never to kill again and mentioned that it burned him more than anything. 
2. Unconditional love - the very phrase removes all questions on who deserves the love and what actions they have performed or are currently performing. Is this even possible? We can turn to Immaculé's life for answers. Whoever avenged us, whatever bad happened to us, can it be worse that what happened to Immaculée? Her life is proof that this is the only true way to go. Indeed, years later after the genocide, one of the Tutsi survivors reached out to her learn how to forgive. The hatred and anger she was living with were burning her up and she couldn't stand them any longer. The killers (at least a few I read about) were suffering because of what they had done. The victims where suffering because of their hatred and vengeance. Only Immaculée could go beyond because of her forgiveness, while yet acknowledging the pain of what happened.
3. You can find God even amid the Rwandan holocaust! Why not anywhere else? It is just that, faith and devotion require a child like trust which is not easy to come by. This is similar to Bhakti Yoga, where you make yourself a zero (as Sadhguru used to say). It is the fastest, yet the hardest path. In some sense, I am very glad (very very glad) for the Sadhana I have. Long time back, I used to pray to God asking for things. After Sadhguru mentioned that it was not devotion but only survival, I stopped doing that. As I thought about this, I realized how true devotion is very hard to come by. It is saying, no matter what happens, "Thy will be done! My hands be used!". I later concluded that true devotion was not my path, I was not made that way and it has been a long time since I have prayed. Now looking at Immaculée makes me think about prayer again. What to pray about? If anything, it has to be to send out a message of love and compassion out. Anyway, things are not at all clear and are very hazy and confusing - but in a very good way :)
4. You can come out stronger from any situation - no matter what. I remember a story about Master who was challenged by a general. "Do you know I can run this blade through you without batting an eyelid?". The Master responded, "Do you know I can have this blade run through me without batting an eyelid?". Who is the stronger of the two? But we are not made of material like that. Stories like these seem very far away. But Immaculée was one of us! She felt the same trembling about death, the anger and vengeance, the pain  - and she was able to transcend this all. And more yet, she came out stronger.

This book is a must-read. As despairing as what triggered it, you will only come out inspired.

---

Note: The image in this post is licensed with creative commons.
The copyright for this image belongs to deepakkt. Click on the image to view the image on deepakkt's website.

---