Rape: Living with HIV

Growing up as a young girl, I cherished the beautiful family God allowed me to be born into. 

I was very fortunate to have two amazing parents who were teachers by profession, and four loving siblings who I adored so much. My parents were not only good educators in their everyday life but also great parents at home where they showered us with love, comfort, and affection. We were taught to be respectful and refrain from saying bad words to one another or to other people. These teachings, among others,  were constantly reinforced almost on a daily basis, whenever we gathered together around the table during our evening meal. Our parents would begin by lecturing us on the importance of exercising table manners, and other lectures would follow from there as we consumed our meals. They were usually firm but polite and mixed the lectures with jokes and other forms of humour during these discussions so it was always easy for us to appreciate those conversations. After finishing our meal we sat down and prayed together and would retire to bed I remember always looking forward to the next morning as I enjoyed walking to school with my Dad. I was truly a Daddy's girl and enjoyed being around him so much. He had such an infectious smile which always warmed my heart. I cherish these precious memories which I hold dearly in my heart, and even today whenever I dwell on them they bring great comfort to me.

Sadly though, that beautiful aspect of my life was cut short and substituted with cruel memories brought on by the unimaginable atrocities of the 1994 genocide against the Tutsi in Rwanda.

I always looked forward to continuing my good life with my family for as long as I live, and never imagined that the atrocities I witnessed and experienced would ever be directed towards me and many others in my country.

In 1994 when I was just 14 years old, my life completely changed and I was forced to face such traumatic and unimaginable occurrences at that young age, which was brought on by the vicious genocide against the Tutsi.  In early April 1994, extremist Hutus picked up their machetes, clubs, guns, and other crude weapons and began to systematically murder any minority Tutsis they can find in the country. This very well-planned genocide was driven by many decades of promoting the ideology of hatred against the Tutsi, sanctioned by those in power at the time.

The genocide continued for a period of 100 days which I refer to as a “period of darkness.” I saw neighbours whom we thought were friends, some of whom were former students of my parents, destroying our home, attacking and killing our families as well as those of other Tutsis.  I found myself, my siblings, and my parents forced into hiding in bushes and moving from place to place with no one to turn to. As a young girl, I couldn't understand how people, many of whom we knew and trusted, could become so heartless and cruel to that extent. It is difficult to find words that can accurately describe the extreme fear I was forced to carry within me while trying to avoid being killed every minute, every second, every day, for such an extended period of time.

My Dad was murdered very early after the beginning of the genocide, followed later by my three precious brothers who were ages 9, 7, and 16 months old respectively. Many Tutsis were being killed wherever they were found. It was a mind-boggling and traumatic experience. Many of our families who were found while seeking refuge were tortured and murdered simply because they were Tutsis. In the country, nothing else was happening except killing Tutsis which they referred to as "work". In an effort to dehumanize us, the Hutu extremists also referred to as "cockroaches or snakes.” Many Tutsis sought refuge in churches thinking they would be safe there, but so many of those churches became places of bloodshed. Mass killings also took place in stadiums including the one in my hometown Kibuye called Gatwaro stadium where many of our families and friends were murdered. Very few were able to escape from these places and the killers waited to be filled up before locking them down and executing them inside.

During this genocide against the Tutsi, rape was also widely used as a weapon. Many women, both young and old, were brutally raped and have had to bear the physical and psychological wounds and scars that remind them of what they went through. Being a 14-year-old victim among countless others during that period of darkness in my country, I myself was brutally raped and have since been living with HIV as a result. Other victims suffered a similar fate as I did, while others became pregnant for unknown fathers, being gang-raped by large groups of men in many instances, while yet others were killed after being raped.

Rape in itself is a heinous crime, and when it is used as a weapon during conflicts and genocide, it is even more brutal. I can never forget the hopelessness, grief, and emotional trauma I felt following my experience in 1994, and such negative feelings became even more pronounced after I discovered that I was infected with HIV as a result of the sexual attack I was subjected to. At the tender age of 14, it was even more difficult for me to deal with the severe trauma. I had to ignore the shame, emotional stress, and mental anguish that I felt, as avoiding being killed by those merciless people who were hunting me and others, was my priority at the time.

For years after the genocide, I had to relive the painful ordeal many times as it frequently flashed through my mind, both while awake and while asleep. For others who went through similar ordeals involving sexual violence and have not had the courage to talk about it, I know how difficult it must be for them. Speaking and writing about my experiences has helped me to break the deep-seated feeling of shame, insecurity, and hopelessness which I lived with for many years, feelings which I am certain countless other victims of rape are still grappling with in their lives.

Building up the courage to speak and write about one’s experiences as a rape victim is not an easy task, as the severe psychological turmoil within you often becomes so overwhelming that it is very difficult to express what you feel. It may be doubly difficult for victims who bore children as a result, as in addition to their own suffering, they oftentimes feel obligated to also protect their children from the horror of how they were conceived. In the long run, even those children are deeply affected as well.

Victims of rape cope differently, but the pain and emotional trauma are most likely similar in most cases. In my case, one of the things that have helped me the most from the onset of my journey of survival is the fact that I didn’t allow myself to have self-pity, and remained hopeful and positive about my life. I constantly reminded myself that despite my circumstances, I must hold on to faith and hope, as being HIV positive was not the end of my life - I felt so fortunate to be alive. That faith and hope eventually gave me the courage to put pen to paper and document the gruesome events of my life and speak about them in public as well - painful events that I had held within me for a long time. This crucial step brought me great relief, as by speaking out, I felt like a huge burden was lifted from within my inner self. The thought of telling my story to the world gave me great consolation as I wanted to speak out and be a voice for those victims who cannot speak for themselves, including those who were raped and tortured, and eventually murdered.

The stories of Survivors of Sexual Violence must be told in an effort to fight against such monstrosities, as well as to emancipate victims from the suffering they endure in silence.