The red crosses mark my 4 angels, now watching over me. The only photo of us all together—my Catholic First Communion.
💜
I Rise.
April—the month my world went silent, laughter stolen, love torn from my grasp. The embrace of my parents and two siblings— now a memory I hold but can never touch.
April 1994 did not just take them; it tried to take me too— my voice, my light, my innocence, my will to exist. Darkness swallowed my paradise, grief clung like a shadow, but even then, something within refused to fade.
So I Rise.
Not only on April 7th for my little sister Marie Claudine, or April 17thfor Papa, or April 24th for Mama and my big brother Jean Félix— I Rise every day.
I rise for forgiveness—I do it for me. I rise for love; hatred is too heavy a burden to bear.
I rise for my parents’ three surviving gifts, my first rays of sunshine, whose existence gave my life meaning.
I rise for the little loves they blossomed, —my preciouspearls— treasures my parents never got to hold, spoil or adore. I rise for their other halves, who cherish and are deeply cherished.
I rise for the scars I bear— a testament to survival. I rise for the journey I have walked. For the life I built far from home, Rooted in love, standing on solid ground.
I rise for the child I once was— orphaned, lost, abandoned, poor. Now, a proof that hope survives.
I rise beyond trauma, beyond nightmares. My story is no longer just my own. I rise for the children who walk the road I once did, for those unseen, unheard, alone.
Rising Above the Storms, a whisper: “You are not alone, your pain does not define you. You are seen, you are worthy, you too can rise.”
I carry wounds neither time nor any human can heal, yet still, I rise—undefeated. When strength fails, faith lifts me. And one day, beyond sorrow, I will see and hold them again—forever.
For my light that dimmed in April 1994— I am Here. I Remember. I Grieve. I Speak. I Forgive. I Hope. I Love.
31 Years.
Still. I Rise.
💜
🕊️💜 In loving memory of my four angels perished during the Genocide against the Tutsi in April 1994. May their memories remain a blessing.❤️ 🕊️
The past few months have felt like a walk through memory lane. My husband and I took our annual Christmas holiday trip to Rwanda, my homeland, and it turned out to be more special than I ever imagined. While our visits always include spending time with my siblings and their families, the children and staff of Rising Above the Storms (RAS), and exploring Rwanda’s beauty, this trip held an extraordinary addition—my US parents joined us.
On my wedding day with my parents ♥️ Jan 2019
If you’ve followed my journey on this website, you know I lost my parents in the 1994 Genocide against Tutsi in Rwanda. But “my US parents”? Allow me to explain.
In 2008, shortly before I graduated from grad school in Rochester, NY, I met an incredible couple through a local church connection. They invited me into their home, and while most students they hosted came and went, I stayed. Over time, they unofficially adopted me as their daughter. They gave me the motherly and fatherly love I thought I’d never feel again. Their unconditional love helped heal the wounds inflicted by surviving relatives who had been abusive and heartless.
My parents arriving at Kigali International Airport, Rwanda (Jan 2025)
Kigali International Airport Arrivals.
From left: dad, mom, me and my youngest sister, and my husband (front) taking the selfie
This trip marked my dad’s first visit to Rwanda, and my mom’s second. One highlight was visiting my parents’ land, just outside Kigali. As I stood there, I reflected on how, from the ashes of my deepest losses, God had blessed me with parents who love me fiercely, even if we don’t share the same blood or story.
Getting ready for the 30 min ride to my childhood town
Giving my new parents a tour. One of the roads around my heavenly parents’ land ♥️
Our childhood’s main road—oh, if only it could speak!
My childhood’s driveway
My childhood’s driveway
So many memories
My parents’ hard work!
My innocent childhood lives here
So many memories
And so much more
Another special stop on our itinerary was my childhood Catholic Church—a short drive from my parents’ land but, in my childhood memories, a distant hike.
Standing before my childhood parish. I couldn’t quite recall it ever having this shape!
The moment I stepped onto the parish grounds, a flood of memories overwhelmed me. Standing tall and unchanged was the magnificent acacia tree that had witnessed so much of my family’s life.
Only the two of us, out of four siblings, had the chance to witness this moment. We hope to return together someday, all four of us, to share and compare our memories!
The only photo I possess of my entire family together—taken during my Confirmation—was very near this tree, beneath another acacia tree.
My beloved family, captured during my Catholic Confirmation. The red cross honors our cherished loved ones now in heaven.
As I stared at its sprawling branches, I couldn’t help but wonder: Does this tree remember my parents? Does it remember me? If only it could speak, I would have lingered longer beneath its shade.
This tree stood as a silent witness while the world around it changed—while neighbors turned into enemies, while innocence was lost. But the acacia remained steadfast, offering shade to churchgoers and a home to nesting birds. In its stillness, it felt like a keeper of memories.
The Mighty Acacia Tree
The Parish Courtyards
With my baby sister ♥️ Guardians of our loved ones’ memories!
Under the Acacia Tree. The last time we were here she was a few years old
Stepping inside the church, everything seemed smaller than I could remember. The once-grand sanctuary of my childhood felt humble now, though its spiritual significance had not diminished. I knelt in one of the rows—the one I believed we sat in during sacramental celebrations—and whispered prayers to the Savior my parents had taught me to worship.
Silently, I mourned the loss of my innocence and childhood, reflecting on how I was forced to grow up in a rush, denied the chance to be young. As I reminisced on cherished memories, I marveled at the journey that has brought me back to where it all began.
Stepping into the church and absorbing it all after more than 30 years!
One of the rows where I believe my parents once sat. The emotions were beyond words!
Saying a prayer to honor the memories of my loved ones and worship the God my parents taught me!
I shed tears of both sorrow and gratitude, praising the Lord for His protection over the past 30 years and 9 months.
Thank you Lord for your Faithfulness!
With my parents
And with my husband
With my baby sister
With my hubby
I couldn’t help but marvel at how deeply my parents had rooted us in faith. Amid unimaginable loss and pain, that foundation gave me strength and, eventually, hope.
Lastly, I wanted to see the eucalyptus forest behind the church— somehow a place of peace and meditation in my prayers, often appearing in my nightly dreams. To my disappointment, the trees had been cleared for construction. It felt like a part of my sanctuary had been taken, but the memories remain, vivid and unshaken. It will be interesting to see how my nightly dreams change as a result; this area was one of the reasons I longed to return here.
The eucalyptus forest that once stood here is now gone.
Now being transformed into a convent.
Sunday school hall
It was taller in my childhood memories
My new family walking my memory lane
My baby sister
This church, and the acacia tree in its courtyard, is where my faith began. It is a place of cherished memories, not resentment or guilt. It is a reminder of my extraordinary parents, who continue to guide me even in their absence.
I survived—I made it. I am my parents’ wildest dream and their best wishes fulfilled, their pride, and the voice of my loved ones who perished. I carry their legacy, a beacon of their hopes, resilience, and the enduring love they left behind.
With my baby sister, beneath the tree that holds the cherished memories of our loved ones, taken from us too soon.
♥️♥️ In loving memory of my parents and two siblings who were taken from us in April 1994. May their memories forever be a blessing!♥️♥️
“These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.” ~ John 16:33 NKJV
There are topics that I get excited to write about and share, yet there are others that give me pause, particularly when sharing over the vast expanse of cyberspace with individuals I may never encounter face-to-face. It truly exposes a sense of vulnerability within me. Nevertheless, since launching this blog and founding Rising Above the Storms (RAS) over a decade ago, my goal has been to open up to my readers and audience about the wounds of my past, narratives of the present, and the person I aspire to become.
If you are new to my blog, I frequently delve into my personal journey amid the 1994 genocide against the Tutsi in Rwanda. I recount the harrowing stories of humans who became ferocious animals. I share about the tragic loss of my loved ones, the struggles, and immense grief I faced as a young girl, and the arduous path toward healing, forgiveness, and embracing hope. Amidst the trials, I attribute the person I have become today to the profound encounter with God throughout this tumultuous journey.
My Dearest Mommy, the Source of My Inspiration
The month of April permanently reminds me of the darkest time of my life, an experience that left me with wounds that defy healing from any human, object, or time. Amid numerous close calls with death throughout April and subsequent weeks, one particular date stands out as pivotal in shaping my identity: Sunday, April 24, 1994.
That fateful afternoon marked a week since my mother had assumed the role of the head of the household, thrust into this responsibility abruptly. Exactly one week prior, on Sunday afternoon, April 17, my father—my cherished confidant—was murdered. We learned of his death while cowered in hiding and overhead the Hutu Interahamwe militiamen passing by. They boasted: “We just killed Alphonse and cut him into three pieces; he indicated that he left a wife and five children behind. Where are they? We’ll finish them all.”
As newcomers to this town, my resilient mother may have hoped we could blend in unnoticed, believing perhaps that our lives might be spared. Unfortunately, this hope proved futile. On Sunday afternoon, April 24, my mother, elder brother, cousin, and I were led by Hutu Interahamwe militiamen to a mass grave in Mulindi, Kanombe, northeast of Kigali, a mere ten-minute distance from the Kigali International Airport. Despite our unfamiliarity with the area and the fact that the militiamen didn’t know us, our appearance alone betrayed our identity. Trapped in this moment, escape was inconceivable.
My entire family in one place, the only photo I have of us together. Blurred faces are friends/relatives.
We were instructed to sit down on the top of the looming mass grave, a pit that had already consumed countless innocent Tutsi victims and awaited many more. The militia leader, sneering at my mother, questioned how she was still alive, two and a half weeks into the genocide. Then, with chilling certainty, he asked my mother if she had other children not present with us at that dire moment.
Any response such as “I have no other children,” “they ran away,” “they are dead,” or “I am uncertain of their whereabouts” could have sufficed. However, my mother, characterized by her honesty, and extraordinary nature, opted for transparency during this critical moment. She revealed that she had three additional children in hiding. My emotions were already muted; I cannot claim that her response had a specific impact on me. Waiting for death has its own effect that cannot be put into words.
💔A red cross for the souls I lost 30 years ago, from left to right: Jean Felix, Dad, Mom, Marie Claudine💔
The same squad leader singled me out, citing my perceived physical vulnerability compared to my elder brother. The assailants assumed I would be unable to flee as swiftly as he could. My brother, aged only fifteen but appearing mature and towering at almost six feet tall, looked like an adult. Therefore, I was the target. The killers actually thought that my brother was much older and accused my mom of lying about his age. I was given an armed soldier to accompany me, with a mission to locate and bring my younger siblings so that we could all meet the same fate together.
I couldn’t walk away without saying something; I begged the merciless militia leader not to kill my beloved mother before I returned, hoping he would listen. My plea was my last conversation with my mother. The militia had already started beating my brother and he was bleeding when I left.
💞May their Memories Forever Be a Blessing💞
After disclosing my younger siblings’ hiding, the armed soldier didn’t take me back to the crime scene. Instead, he directed me to leave my siblings in their hiding place and escorted me in the opposite direction, towards a small house where a few others were also seeking refuge. While many details from that day remain hazy, I distinctly recall him leaving me in that house. I don’t remember how many people were there or their stories. After some time, the soldier returned and told me to follow him, leaving me no choice but to comply. With an assault rifle in hand, he held not just my safety but my very life in his grasp.
At that moment, I feared he intended to sexually assault me, a tragically common practice by the assailants before executing their victims. Though at just 13, I also harbored a sense of relief, thinking he might simply fulfill my plea and kill me with a bullet instead. It sounds bizarre, but knowing I might die by gunfire felt like a small mercy, a luxury denied to my loved ones.
I followed him and we walked, I cannot say for how long with certainty. Eventually, we reached a home that I’d later learn belonged to his brother, a soldier as well, near the Kanombe military barracks. Darkness had already settled in by then. To my surprise, he offered me food, clothes, and a place to sleep. He also delivered the devastating news, that my brother, mother, and cousin had been killed. Adding to this anguish, he also disclosed that the death squad had discovered the hiding place of my younger siblings, and raised serious doubts about their survival.
As I lay in the tiny bed within that gigantic house, sleep eluded me completely. The events of that day still felt surreal, as if trapped in an unending nightmare. Questions swirled in my mind, wondering about the soldier’s role in the murder of my loved ones. He had claimed to have witnessed their deaths firsthand. I couldn’t shake it off: How did the death squad discover my siblings’ hiding place? Could the soldier have disclosed their whereabouts? After all, he was the only one who had seen them. Yet, despite these suspicions, he didn’t touch me and remained committed to his promise, emphasizing that he had spared my life to be the storyteller of my family’s tragic fate. It was evident that he believed I might be the sole survivor among my family members.
Like many in the ex-Rwandan Army Forces responsible for planning and perpetrating the genocide against the Tutsi, he eventually fled as the Rwandan Patriotic Forces (RPF) advanced, leaving me in that home. Weeks later, around the 4th of July, following intense clashes between the RPF fighters and ex-Rwandan forces, the RPF army seized control, leading me and other survivors to safety. This marked the beginning of a new journey, one marked by solitude but also survival.
My Blessings From Above. Our Parents in heaven must be proud❤️
Upon sensing the first semblance of safety, I embarked on a journey of piecing together fragmented memories to safeguard recollections of my loved ones. Details around when and where they were murdered, and any information I could remember, I attempted to trace back. It was during this introspective process that I grasped the true significance of my mother’s honesty. Had it not been for her truth, my own history would too have concluded on April 24, 1994. If I hadn’t been taken by that soldier to reveal my younger siblings’ hiding, the mass grave that claimed my mother, brother, and cousin would have become my dwelling.
I often ponder what compelled my mother to speak the truth when survival hung in the balance. I will probably never know; nevertheless, of this I am certain: I am alive today because of her actions, and here to share this story.
Although my time with my mom was tragically brief, her legacy lives on through me. She was honest, had immense kindness, a capacity for forgiveness, and devout faith. If I can embody even a fraction of her remarkable qualities, I will consider myself immensely fortunate. In a piece dedicated to her memory a few years ago, I wrote, “To describe my mother would be to write about a hurricane in its perfect power,” capturing the essence of her indomitable spirit.
These narratives form the foundation of my faith; God has been our Father, Provider, Protector, and the source of everything we could ever need.
Thank you for reading my story!
“And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away.” ~ Revelation 21:4
In this tender month of April, Grant me the moment to entreat. For within this season’s embrace, Memories abundantly flow. A path through trials, battles faced anew, Life’s tapestry woven, by pain and strength tried.
♦
In ’94, hell engulfed Rwanda, The land of a thousand hills that once gleamed with light. Rolling hills and lush green, a paradise’s hymn, Now veiled in the blood of my kin, a tragic tale. Silent world, their crime? Physical features they couldn’t curtail.
♦
I harbor no grudge, my word stands strong, Bitterness won’t mend the past. No victim’s stance, I claim my place, Resilience carries on, a path unmarred. From the ashes rising, steadfast in my stand, Forgiveness, not vengeance, a lighter hand.
♦
Three decades on, wounds still tender and raw, Their memories revered, a pledge of eternal splendor. Their absence echoes, a void within my heart, Their journey truncated, a poignant call to persevere. Allow me, O world, to unveil my story arc, Of valor, endurance, and transcending the dark.
♦
I vow, no tale of despair shall you find, Instead, one of strength against fate’s bind. From shadows, a journey to illuminate, Survivor by name, warrior within. Carving purpose from chaos, A new life to behold, another chance to cherish.
♦
Each trial conceals a lesson’s profound lore, And within every warrior, hope eternally soars. In brokenness, faith endures in tranquil sway, In this April’s remembrance, my heart doesn’t tarry. Allow me to raise this resounding anthem high, To honor, to unite, in hope’s enduring embrace.
💓
Paying tribute to my dad, mom, brother, and sister who were taken from me so soon, during the 1994 genocide against Tutsi, in Rwanda (4/7, 4/17, 4/24). 💓May their memories forever remain a blessing💓
“For You have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, and my feet from falling. I will walk before the Lord, in the land of the living.” Psalm 116: 8-9
My First Loves, my Children, my Treasure, my Crown before God!Alice, Jean Eric, Noella and me. Christmas 2021
It must have been sometime in September, or maybe October, I am not entirely sure. Please bear with me as I try to relive the darkest period of my life. Allow me to tell you the horror of my childhood, almost three decades later, as a 13-year old, holding my chin up high, with hope rising. The genocide against the Tutsi in Rwanda had just ended a few months earlier, by Rwandans who lived as refugees in exile. They had been denied to return to their home country, with the excuse that it was full. These refugees, formed a grass-roots army, the Rwanda Patriotic Front or RPF. The RPF came fighting without sophisticated artillery, armed with the love and dedication to liberate their beloved country and save any Tutsi who still had breath in them.
I lived with my paternal aunt at the time, whom I miraculously met at the same refugee shelter, Kigali International Airport, where RPF soldiers gathered survivors behind the enemy line. I think it was the end of May or beginning of June.
With my beautiful sisters Alice and Noella; I call them my babies. December2021
Our airport living quarters were empty cargo shipping containers located right across from the airport hangar. Downtown Kigali, twenty minutes or less north of us, was still an active combat between RPF soldiers and the Rwandan Army Forces who planned and executed the genocide. Some of the refugees were the survivors of the worst atrocities of the 20th century, dehumanized for just being born with certain physical features. This unimaginable cruelty would later be recognized as genocide too little too late.
My aunt and her two toddlers under age three had been hidden by her Hutu neighbor in Remera, just minutes from this airport. (Her husband, my uncle, had been on a business trip out of country before all this started).
As far as I was concerned, before bumping into my aunt, I was the only living soul left in my family and the world that surrounded me. Meeting my aunt was a small glimmer of hope, a connection to a forgotten happy past. I was grateful to see someone familiar and thankful she asked me to live with her, whatever that meant, since everything we held dear was gone.
My nephew Adley and niece Abiella (they’re cousins). I call them my grand-babies. Three years apart but still best friends!
On July 4th, 1994, the country was liberated by the RPF. Victory, we had a sense of hope. Soon after, we were allowed to return to homes, or whatever was left that resembled our lives.
Fast forward a few months later, I believe it was September or October, when my aunt’s friend came to visit in Remera. As soon as he saw me, he said there were two small boys from my family living in an orphanage in the next town, Ndera. I couldn’t believe my ears! Two boys? We initially had two boys and four girls in my family, and my older brother had been killed along with my mother. Besides, there was no way he could be called little, standing at 6 feet tall at fifteen years old.
When we were separated the April before, I left my little brother and two sisters. If there were siblings at the orphanage, I wondered which of the three was not there. My young mind was trying to make sense of it all. Now there was a possibility I still had two siblings. I might not be the only one who survived. I couldn’t believe it. It was a lot to process!
My (not-so-little-anymore) bro Jean Eric and the love of his life Redempta
I honestly don’t recall how I arrived where my siblings were at the time. I probably walked since there was no public transportation in place yet. Then the most life-changing moment arrived. I saw my siblings! And the greatest part was, there were not two, but all three. Memories flooded back to that April 24th day, that life and death defining moment and the last time I saw them. We had just been informed my older brother, Jean Felix, was being held by the Hutu militiamen. My mom, cousin, and I rushed to see Jean Felix. When we arrived at the “crime scene”, which sat at the mouth of a mass grave, our physical features must have given us away. The killing squad leader asked my mom where she had been hiding for that long and if she had any other kids not with us.
For reasons I don’t know today, rather than lying, my mother told the truth. She perhaps thought that we wouldn’t be able to survive on our own, or she was ready to see the Lord. I will never know.
My greatest life’s accomplishment, my three siblings!
I was immediately given an armed soldier as an escort and sent to bring my three younger siblings from hiding, instead of my brother Jean Felix who was believed to be a flight risk. For whatever reason that I still don’t understand, this soldier decided to leave my younger siblings in their hiding place. Moreover, rather than taking me back where my mother, brother and cousin were being held, he took me somewhere else. Sparing you details for now, I am alive today to tell the story because of his decision. This same soldier knew my mom, brother, and cousin were dead and how they had been executed.
I have so many questions that I won’t have answers for in this life. Ironically, I owe my ability to tell this story to this same soldier. Whatever he did or didn’t do, he spared my life.
Holding my newest niece/granddaughter (three month-old Kaylee Shiloh)
Five or six months later, after that horror, I stood in shock unable to believe my eyes at the sight of my siblings. They were so malnourished that I could understand why someone would think my two sisters were boys.
I may have intentionally blurred a lot that happened before and after, such as the fact that my youngest sister didn’t recognize me. While that and so many broken memories shattered my heart, this encounter remains the most treasured moment of my life. From that very moment, I found my life purpose. My survival finally had a meaning!
Adley holding Abiella. Best friends ♥️♥️
Now, what about the Sacred Promise I gave the title of this post?
Sometime after I had found my surviving siblings, I had an incredibly vivid dream. In it was my father, Alphonse, looking as handsome as ever in a white robe. You cannot believe my shock thinking how I had been applying for documents that would exempt me from paying school fees because I was an orphan. Yet, there stood my father looking at me with a big smile. The dream ended with me making a promise to him, that I would love and take care of his surviving children as he would have done himself. When I awoke, I felt like I had met an angel and I felt my father’s presence.
My handsome daddy (in early 1980s)
April 7th, 2022 begins the twenty-eighth commemoration of the genocide against the Tutsi in Rwanda. Today, I can humbly divulge that keeping this promise remains the most important accomplishment of my life. And if this is the only success I will ever achieve in this life, I will call myself the luckiest person on God’s earth. Before my God who Has my parents and two siblings with Him, I have unconditionally loved my three younger siblings as my own children, and their children as my grandkids. With every fiber of my being, and breath I take, I will keep my sacred vow to my dad in that dream late 1994 for as long as I shall live.
With my best friend, the love of my life
There’s nothing in this life that I cannot do for my siblings I call my children; God is my witness. Their happiness fills my heart with joy and gratitude before God! I love them more than life itself. I am immensely grateful to our Father God Who has been everything we ever need. He provided, protected and carried my siblings and I through the darkest and trying times of our lives. He truly is the Father to the fatherless!
I am married to my best friend, my partner in righteousness, who’s not only understanding of what my siblings and I endured at a young age, but also supportive of my keeping the sacred promise I made to my father in that dream! When Jesus will come with the clouds and all eyes will see Him, before the heavenly congregation, I will tell my dear parents that I had kept my vow to them and our God!
I found hope, faith and purpose amidst great loss!
Just like any other year, my husband & I spent Christmas 2019 with my family upstate NY & New Year’s with his parents in the midwest! We usually rotate holidays with our families every year, which works perfectly for us. While neither of us is known for New Year’s resolutions & such, still, we felt hopeful & looked forward to 2020, and our 1st wedding anniversary celebration which was around the corner (mid-January). We celebrated it in Palm Springs, CA, with a plan to do a proper celebration the following month in Hawai’i. Palm Springs was a lot of fun, and definitely much warmer than our northern neck of the woods, especially in January!
My favorite outdoor airport!
As we had planned, in late February, we were finally on our way to Hawai’i. It was an exciting moment especially for me since it was my first time in HI. We first touched down at the Honolulu International Airport, on the main island of Oahu, to reach our connection via Hawaiian Airlines. The Honolulu airport & its surrounding reminded me so much about Rwanda’s savannah in the Eastern Province! Shortly after, we were back up and on our way to the beautiful Island of Kaua’i, which is the most northwestern part of the Hawaiian archipelago, and landed at the Lihue Airport.
HNL Airport. This just looks like somewhere in the eastern part of Rwanda
Longest Highway on Kaua’i, route 50 (Lihue to Princeville)
What beautiful & breathtaking views, water, mountains! It was just as I had imagined, and more. We stayed in the northern part of the island, Princeville. And of course we did as any tourist would do: we drove around the entire island (from Princeville to the north western part, Waimea), visited water falls, Lighthouses, Canyons, hiked rainforests, spent most time at the beaches, of which Kaua’i has in abundance, and not crowded at all. It was a breath of fresh air.
Aerial View of Honolulu
Oholeao Hiking Trail
We hiked to the Ho’opi’i Falls.
Well, that was fun 🤣😁
Waimea Canyon State Park
Waimea Canyon State Park
Waimea Canyon State Park
Chicken everywhere, free range, HI style 😂
Kīlauea Lighthouse
Beautiful Drive in Hanalei
Princeville Resort; just amazing!
Princeville
Princeville at Sunset 💕
While there, the temperatures were between 70-80s which was fantastic, especially for a tropical weather girl like me. The southwestern part of the Island, Waimea, known for its black sand beaches, was especially warmer and less windy from my experience. The sun tan at the beach there was just what we needed!
As our stay was coming to the end, unfortunately, the pandemic was also making its headway & getting worse by the minute. Looking back, we wished we had extended our stay there and be stranded in a sunny weather instead. Shortly after we arrived back to the mainland US, the lockdown went into effect nationwide. Unbeknownst to most, this was the beginning of the longest, probably most depressing period most people have ever had to go through.
Princeville RESORT, Kaua’i
So when I say goodbye to 2020, I am pretty sure I am speaking on behalf of many people! To say that 2020 has brought so much hardship is an understatement! Although the impact varies depending on individual situation pre-covid, but the most vulnerable in the world (economically, financially etc.) were hit the worst. We have seen it with the street children we work with through Rising Above the Storms in Rwanda; the loss of the source of income & hunger was even severe for their families that were already fragile!
UNICEF says it best: “this is a universal crisis and, for some children, the impact will be lifelong; without urgent action, this health crisis risks becoming a child-rights crisis“.
BEAUTIFUL KIGALI, THE CAPITAL OF RWANDA, NIGHTTIME!
While there are probably way too many posts about how depressing 2020 has been, I wanted to take this opportunity to highlight things I am grateful for, and hopefully spread some positive encouragement in a world that I believe needs it so desperately.
As we bit 2020 adieu, I am very thankful to God Almighty for:
– Health & Family
As I type this, there has been more than 83 million cases worldwide & over 1.8 million lives gone due to the COVID-19 pandemic. Many people have lost jobs, the world economy is in shambles. Today, being safe and healthy is a something I never want to take for granted, even after this pandemic is long gone. I am grateful to God for my families in the US & Rwanda who have been incredible warriors through this. My amazing husband who’s a gift from heaven and my best friend! I cannot begin to imagine how hard this must have been for people who live by themselves! I thank God for my job, and the flexibility to do it & Cisco I work for! I say a prayer for everyone who is in any kind of need, and that God will use me anyway He choses!
My family, my gifts from heaven ❤️❤️
My First Loves, my Children, my Crown before God ❤️💕
My Best Friend ❤️
Serena Hotel, Gisenyi, Rwanda
Gisenyi (Western Province), Rwanda
Gisenyi (Western Province), Rwanda
Rwandan food 😋😋
– A much Needed Trip to Hawai’i
While my husband & I wished we had stayed in the sunny Hawai’i longer instead of returning to mainland US & be in a lockdown here, I am grateful for our vacation there, our experience, warm weather, good food, beautiful views, beaches and hiking trails. It was definitely a perfect timing, because soon after, places were no longer accepting visitors.
I cannot imagine where Rising Above the Storms would be today if it were not for the generosity of so many people who have chosen to believe in my vision & mission to change lives of the most vulnerable children over the years. This year was no exception; despite the hardship endured this year by way too many people, donations have been still coming, and we have been able to keep up with our children’s needs and go beyond to support their families during the lockdown. THANK YOU SO MUCH!
Moreover, our Rwanda employees were able to receive their salaries during the shutdown, which makes me forever grateful. As we change lives of the most vulnerable children, my hope and prayer is that families & communities our staff are part of are also positively impacted. That’s my dream!
Our kids having lunch at the Center
Wall pictures at the Center
Our kids at the Center
– Our Board & Teams
I’ve been blessed to be surrounded by incredible people who have rolled up their sleeves this year to plow through uncertainties to keep RAS up and running. I couldn’t find a photo that has everyone in it (and looks great) but my gratitude to each and everyone of them is immeasurable. 2020 has been surprisingly the most productive year we’ve had at RAS to date. These powerful women (mostly Cisco employees; we have couple of men too, but they couldn’t make this call) have achieved more than I could imagine: from communications, fundraising, finances, strategies, social media, you name it! I am indebted to them!
Some of the most incredible people who are behind everything good we have been doing!
– A Trip to Rwanda
What an incredible opportunity to get to travel to Rwanda in October this year! I guess it might come as a shock since I travel there at least once or twice a year; but this trip was extra special for so many reasons. As a frequent traveler, normally a trip like this gets me excited and is always almost predictable. However, for the first time, this was not the case. Due to COVID-19, I was very nervous about the unknowns.
Our Library at the Learning Center in Rwanda
I had so many questions that I didn’t have answers to prior to taking this journey: do I need to stay awake for 17 hours? Can I sleep with a mask on? Are the airplanes safe to be on for that long during a pandemic? How about connecting via Europe that was going through the second wave? Do we get fed on the plane as usual? Will the trip get canceled?
I’d assume that a lot of people have had these questions and more, or are afraid to fly all together. The good news is that you can safely travel during the pandemic. I am not going into details with what the airlines are doing to keep passengers safe, but I think they are doing everything they can to keep passengers safe. My husband and I certainly felt comfortable. Delta has been my favorite airline for the past 3-4 years, and they truly delivered on their promise during this trip.
having a conversation with our team in Rwanda
Landing in Rwanda, it was impressive to see how organized the airport was at handling arriving passengers and prioritizing everyone’s safety. At the time, Rwanda required a negative COVID-19 test valid for 5 days prior to arriving in the country. Moreover, arriving passengers had to be quarantined (at a hotel) upon arrival, and get tested once again. Once the results were in and negative, then you were free to go. Luckily, there were several hotels to pick from to self-quarantine in, including 5-star hotels, of course at the traveler’s expense. I was amazed by how quickly we got our results back (less than 12 hours) and were able to leave our hotel and see my family. The whole process from landing to leaving the hotel was smooth and uneventful.
Navigating the city of Kigali was made easier by restrictions that were put in place; hand washing and temperature check at every entrance, masks and physical distancing enforced wherever possible. This truly made the experience more comfortable; my husband and I even managed to see the kids at our Center, and visited with the staff. I treasured every moment; I didn’t think it was going to be possible to see them. I deeply appreciated our staff and kids’ resiliency on another level.
just beautiful. Downtown Kigali at night!
I have always been grateful of how far along our kids have come, and admired their strength after all they have gone through in their young lives; however, getting to see them after many months of lockdown and learning how that has impacted them really gave me a new level of gratitude. Our kids were allowed to return to the Center for the first time on October 5th since March. That’s almost 8 months. I had a privilege to have a 1:1 conversation with a few of them.
The common concern they all had was being home for a long time without interacting with their friends, hunger, missing school. They were very excited to be back to the Center where they can eat, play, see their friends and get help going through school work. This experience was a personal reminder of the work we do there and the courage of our staff. I saw joy and hope in their innocent eyes; I saw excitement about the future. If there has ever been any setback about the progress we’ve made, their joy gave me strength to keep marching forward.
Our Center
Catching up with our children
I also had an amazing conversation with our staff; they shared how their main priority in coming months would be to figure out ways to help our kids catch up to their peers as they started school this November, and beyond. We talked about their experience during the lockdown. They shared how they did their best to stay in touch with the children virtually, which was difficult because of technology access for those families.
I also learned that while our staff members were blessed to be getting their salaries during the lockdown, they didn’t forget those who were not as fortunate. One staff member mentioned how he and his wife were able to buy food supplies for 4 different families at different times during the lockdown. I was deeply touched by this selfless act of kindness. They shared how grateful they are to be in these kids’ lives; they emphasized on how they love their job, our kids & are grateful to get paid to do what they enjoy doing the most.
The beauty that Rwanda is
Nyirangarama, NW of Kigali
Kigali International Airport
Back in April, our Rwanda team also did a food distribution in April where they fed about 100 household members of our kids. The process was tedious because of the restrictions of the lockdown; however, parents were very touched by the gesture. And more importantly, parents and local authorities shared how this proved to them our commitment not only to kids, but their families and Rwandan communities. Since then, the local administration has a newfound appreciation of the work we do there. I was deeply moved!
I left energized and encouraged by the visit. If nothing else, I believe that the pandemic has made us even more stronger.
♥ If tears could build a stairway, and memories a lane. I would walk right up to Heaven and bring you back again ♥
A memorial wreath laid on one of the graves at Kigali Genocide Memorial, Gisozi, Rwanda. Feb 2019
This specific Wednesday night, my parents and 4 of my siblings, we all went to bed, completely unsure of what even the next day would look like; you see, earlier that evening around dinner time, we suddenly heard loud explosions nearby, and saw flames in the sky. We then rushed to listen to our home radio receiver only to learn that the plane carrying the president of Rwanda had just been shot down as it landed at Kigali International Airport; the announcement added thatthepresident died, along the president of Burundi and everyone onboard.
That night, all of us kids slept together in the same bedroom with our parents; we were too terrified to sleep anywhere else.
Reflecting on Memories of my Family and Childhood in what used to be our home. Feb 2019
The next day brought a usual warm and sunny morning, that’d have otherwise been a great opportunity to be outdoors. Unfortunately, nothing could ever have prepared my family for what was about to unfold before our eyes. My little sister Marie Claudine (I had 5 siblings) had been visiting her godmother, Theresa, who lived about 15 minutes away, for Spring/Easter Break. All of the sudden, Theresa, showed up at our house unannounced. She wasn’t alone, but not with my sister either; instead, behind her were men carrying a dead body –my little sister’s, we found out! Theresa informed us that Hutu militiamen attacked her home that very morning, killed her 2 kids and my sister, and looted her house. Theresa had been in hiding at the time of the attack.
With our world crumbling down piece by piece, it was as if a double edged sword has cut deep, deep, through our hearts. Unbeknownst to us then, this very Thursday morning, April 7th, 1994 would mark the beginning of the genocide, the Tutsi ethnic cleansing in Rwanda. Theresa’s kids and my little sister were the first victims in our area. The next 100 days would cost 1 million lives of men, women, children, young, old, strong, beautiful. Their crime? The way they were born, something they did not get an opportunity to bargain with their Creator during their births!
That staggering number would include my parents, and 2 of my siblings, neighbors, classmates, friends, amazing people who had an entire future ahead of them!
Beautiful Kigali, the Capital of Rwanda. Feb 2019
Fast forward to 26 years later, today, our whole planet is reeling under a devastating COVID-19 outbreak, a global pandemic that has brought our normal daily routines to a near standstill, my beautiful home country Rwanda included. Countries imposed lockdowns to stop the imminent spread of the virus. Families are huddled in their homes, some with the possibility of dying of hunger, especially people whose income was based on jobs that cannot be done remotely. The losses of lives are astonishing, and no country is immune to the impact.
Somehow, unfortunately, this danger and fear feels all too familiar to me, although not to the same extent. My eyes have seen things that no young child should ever have to endure. The people of Rwanda have been through so much already, and my heart is heavy for them, especially around this time of the year, during this unprecedented time.
So, will you allow me this opportunity to pour my heart out for my people in the Land of a Thousand Hills? Will you indulge me for a moment, while I weep, grieve, remember, honor, and commemorate innocent lives that we lost, the shameful death our loved ones died in 1994? Spare me a moment of silence, to reflect, to pray, to cherish memories of the people who meant the world to me, whose lives were cut short!
Allow me to ponder on the dates that are forever a reminder of the horror that descended on Rwanda, scars that no lifetime can ever heal: Thursday, April 7th, my little sister Marie Claudine (11) was killed. Sunday, April 17th, my Dad (43) was killed. On Sunday, April 24th, my older brother Jean Felix (15) and my Mom (40) were killed together.
The Kigali Genocide Memorial is the final resting place for 250,000+ victims of the Genocide against the Tutsi. Feb 2019
Today Tuesday, April 7th, 2020
We remember, commemorate & honor all those Tutsi who died in shame! They didn’t choose to be born the way they were born. May they rest in Eternal Peace with you Jesus, until we will see them again, in a life that knows no sorrow or pain!
God, we pray for Your comfort and love wrapped around every survivor. Please, Lord, give each and every hope, endurance, strength, prosperity, courage, a voice, healing, ability to forgive. You alone can heal the brokenhearted and bind up their wounds.
We remember & pray for those left vulnerable—widows, orphans, women who were raped and left with pregnancies and diseases, and those inflicted with physical scars that bring emotional trauma and recurring nightmares.
We remember those who were not a target but chose to hide Tutsi, risking their lives. They are the heroes of our survival stories!
We pray for the leaders of Rwanda, the president, and everyone around him: for wisdom to lead the country with justice and fairness and continue to move Rwanda forward.
We pray for peace over Rwanda; and for genocide perpetrators that themselves will receive forgiveness, come to know the Lord, and repent. We will leave vengeance to God, as it is written that vengeance belongs to Him, and He will repay.
We thank you Jesus for the unity, renewal, and healing, progress, prosperity, that has been bestowed upon Rwanda and her people. Amen!
“And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away.” Revelations 21:4 (NKJV)
“And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away.”~ Revelations 21:4
“And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away.”~ Revelations 21:4
It’s almost February and April is around the corner. Oh how I anxiously wait for this month all year around! Why is April a big deal? Because it will be the 22nd anniversary of the 1994 genocide against the Tutsi in Rwanda, in which I lost my beloved parents and 2 of my siblings. Unfortunately, although a lot has happened since then, it still feels like it was yesterday to me!
Though I still grieve for them with a deep sorrow and always will, however, I have encountered someone who has deeply touched my shattered heart with a mighty healing power and gave me a reason to rejoice forever: my Lord and King Jesus! He has turned my mourning into dancing! Therefore, I grieve with hope!
That’s my prayer for anyone who has lost someone close, especially tragically. I know how you feel!
“Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep” ~ Romans 12:15
My Dearly Beloved Parents
Today, I am again reminded that life is extremely short and that tomorrow is NOT guaranteed! I knew that already, but my weary heart needs a constant reminder. This evening, I learned of a death of someone so young and full of life. This young man was a newlywed to an extremely beautiful young woman who is a close friend to my family in Rwanda.
He died of a motorcycle accident, the most popular means of public transportation in Rwanda, besides buses. Quite frankly, a cruel fact may be that those commercial motorcycles probably claim more lives than any other cause of death in Rwanda.
I weep so deep with this very young widow. My heart breaks for her, her family and many whose loved ones have been taken away so suddenly. This life begs more questions than answers unfortunately. You may have many examples. My prayer is that the whole world will come to know how much God loves us despite our circumstances. That’s very important.
You see, the Bible tells me that one day, God will make everything new, and wipe away all our tears. Our mourning will be no more. This gives me hope! And that we will see again all those who died in the Lord, in the new life that knows no sorrow.
There, hatred, discrimination, accidents, killings, injustice, tragedies, natural disasters, diseases, illness, hunger, wars, all will lose battle. Love & peace will be victorious and eternal life will be our song forever!
“Then I heard a voice from heaven saying to me,“Write: ‘Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on.“Yes,” says the Spirit, “that they may rest from their labors, and their works follow them.” ~Revelations 14:13
Father God, I pray that You’ll comfort all those who are grieving & hurting. You alone are their Strength, Shield and Salvation. You are capable of consoling them even when the outpouring sympathy & support is not enough. Will You send them Peace, surround them with Your unfailing Love and Kindness! Will You be their only Joy, Hope and Refuge! Now and always!
In Jesus name! Amen!
“And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away.”~ Revelations 21:4
Beauty for Ashes 