Category Archives: Family

Grief is NOT Cowardice, Forgiveness is NOT Being Defeated: APRIL 1994

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“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” Matthew 5:4 (ESV)

“As a father shows compassion to his children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him. For He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust.” Psalm 103:13-14 (ESV)

Dear Father GOD in heaven, thank you for accepting me for who I am. Since no creature is hidden from your sight, this is the truth in my heart: APRIL reminds me of the terror that engulfed my beautiful country, the shameful death my loved ones died 21 year ago: April 7 (Marie Claudine, age 11), April 17 (Dad, 43), April 24 (Mama, 40 & Jean Felix, age 15). This month brings back horrific memories to relive nightmares that filled the emptiness followed their departure from this world.

I often wonder why they were gone so soon and how could anyone harm them!! I tearfully wish they lived to see and be proud of who I am today. I truly hate when doctors here ask me about my parents medical history or how they died; what am I supposed to say? It’s hard to let go of the fact that my parents weren’t there to see their youngest son Eric getting married last December. When I am struggling, I miss Papa’s voice telling me that everything will be okay.

My Dear Parents!

Mama (photo taken in 1976; she was 22) and Papa (1985: he was 34)

Dear Lord, it’s not easy to accept that their grandkids and later generations will only meet them in my pages. My heart wanders each time I need someone to remind me of things from my childhood. I can’t help but wondering how my parents would have loved to see my place, meet my friends, see my new car, and hear about my job and stories of places I travel to on business. Father, I think that they’d have been proud. I am so sure of this!

Jesus, I very well know that where my loved ones are in your heaven, they’re no longer worried or suffering!

Will You please tell them that Miette, Alice, Eric and I miss them so deeply and love them very much!! Will You delegate your angels to narrate to them everything You had done for us for the past 21 years? Will You please assure Mama that You have been everything we ever need, that Your richness in us surpasses all our understanding? Will You tell Papa how your Protection keeps us safe, Your Love is our shield, Your Glory our success, Your grace our happiness?

Will You tell them that You have been our Provider, Defender and a shoulder to cry when we miss them? As I wrote last year this time that You and I would take care of their son’s wedding, will You please tell them for me that everything was perfect because You were our Guest of Honor? You are able to explain it better than I could ever do.

Father, will You again read the below TRIBUTE I wrote last year to Mama, Papa, Marie Claudine and Jean Felix? Thank you so much for putting an end to their pain and suffering of this life, and for making them dwell in your heaven and resting them in your eternal peace! And thank you for enabling me to honestly forgive their killers! You alone can make broken lives beautiful!

A Tribute to my Loved Ones on the 20th anniversary (2014): 

In A Garden of Fame Where Their Treasured Memories Grow Fonder: Two Decades Later!

“For there is no distinction: for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.” Romans 3:22-24

Expatriate Moments of Brevity: Life Abroad!

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When you relocate to a new country, there are many inevitable awkward moments you run into, whether you’re extremely cautious or simply go with the flow. I’m not even talking about the food where it is apparently normal to add sugar to baked beans or meat, or eat jello with turkey.

It’s not about eating raw fish or crunchy little lifeless animals from the water! And I won’t go into details about a story of someone I know who yanked treats from kids as they rang the door bell for tricks or treats on Halloween. This new comer thought kids were handing out candies!

In the fall of 2006, I said goodbye to my dearest siblings and many friends who gathered at Kigali International Airport in Rwanda to send me off halfway across the globe. I was very excited about the opportunity to continue my studies and experience a new culture. My next stop? United States. The next paragraphs are my observations and experience!

With my bro and sisters on my brother’s Rwandan Traditional Wedding Day!

  • Comparison & Conversion

When you arrive in a new country for the first time, in order to adjust, you start first by comparing everything around you to what you were used to in your home country. You compare buildings, cars, people, dress fashions, you name it.

When you make a trip to the store to buy milk and realize that it’s sold in gallons, yes a gallon (what is that?), for $3.21, you immediately convert it in your own currency to see how much that would be, for example, in Rwandan Francs. Oh, before you figure this out, you first wonder what is a gallon compared to liters etc. Then you do the math to make a decision if your purchase is ideal.

In my very first effort to get my hair done when I arrived in the US, two friends (white and Asian) took me to the best place they knew. The stylist lady who was either white or Latina (definitely not black) assured me that she knew well how to work with black hair. I was ecstatic! The whole process lasted about 30 min. I was very impressed because it normally takes no less than an hour in Rwanda.

To my dismay, not only did my hairdo look as if they didn’t do anything to the hair, but it also cost me around $80. The hairstyle I was looking to get would normally have cost me around $10 in Rwanda. That was the last time I tried…well, until an African friend took me to an African beauty salon where someone finally knew what she was doing!

  • Translation

Oh, yes! You definitely think in Kinyarwanda at first (or whichever your native language is) and translate into English before responding to someone who just asked you what courses you are taking or your major at RIT or how long you have been in the country or simply what you do for a living.

Researchers say that you will know that you are comfortable in a new language when you no longer need to translate in your head from your native language to your new one before you speak or answer a question. Caution: At some point, you may become too comfortable in your new language that you might need to translate back into your native language before you talk; isn’t that funny but true?

Few months ago at my brother’s wedding, I vowed to myself that I’d make an effort to use Kinyarwanda only during my 5 minutes speech. Howbeit, in front of our honored hundreds of guests, as I searched in despair how to say “on behalf of” in Kinyarwanda, I feigned a smile as I apologized to the audience because I had no other word to replace it in order to complete my phrase. I indeed felt betrayed by the language I have spoken my whole life 😦

  • Moments of Boldness

As funny as this may sound, it is a moment of truth! Most likely, casual, humorous conversations and jokes will be different in your home country from your new home. For example, in Rwanda, weight issues are not only an icebreaker to start common daily conversation but also a way to let people know that you pay attention to their size.

People are not afraid to remind you that you’re fat and that you should probably start exercising. This is not a private conversation. It’s in the open for everyone around you to hear. Or perhaps that you are too thin and someone fears you may not have enough food in your home.

A woman carrying a sac on her head!

So, take a person from that context and into the United States. Also note that the only English words this brave person knows how to say related to weight is skinny and fat. Well, you can connect the dots. This creates an awkward moment when you tell someone in the US, especially women, that they are fat (they didn’t just “put on a few extra pounds” because you probably have never heard of such an expression).

I think that the cultural influence, in addition to the language barrier, may bring embarrassing moments for newcomers!

I am normally very careful in what I say to people because I am afraid to hurt their feelings, but once a dear friend poured her feelings out to me and some friends. I went on to tell her it was a first world problem. YEP! I sure did! Back then, it seemed like an innocent comment to go along with our fun conversation. Now I know that it was not the case.

Oh! Did I also mention that I once told a friend I had known for a few years that it was probably about time he started thinking about growing up, because after all, it was a new year and his sense of humor wasn’t amusing anymore! Who in the right mind says that? Fortunately, this gentleman found it funny and laughed about it! A word of advice: DON’T DO IT!

      • Weird obsessions

When you move to another country, at first you tend to stick to what looks familiar. For example, when you spot at the grocery store the powdered milk NIDO used a lot in Africa for tea, you want to jump with excitement for all shoppers to know that you have found a hidden gem in your new home. Similarly, when you go back to visit your country, everything looks so amazing that you want to snap photos of women carrying baskets on their heads or babies on their backs, in the streets, or just a typical traffic jam in the city.

You cherish everything that keeps you close to things you grew up seeing. You want to take everything back with you when you return to your new home…food, clothes, traditional decorations, everything. Likewise, if you could take everything you started liking in your new home on the trip with you, you would just do it. In the end, sometimes people will notice some obsessions that seem all too unfamiliar to both cultures.

You see the first picture with my siblings where my sisters and I are wearing Rwandan women traditional outfits? Those outfits have been around for ages. They’re basically worn by women on special occasions in Rwanda. Married women can own and wear them anytime (for parties etc.) but single women mostly rent them for special occasions.

Now, I am not entirely sure why I am beyond excited to own not one, but two of those, for myself, which are the gifts my brother and his wife gave to me on their wedding day. I cannot wait to wrap one of them around me and walk in it. And why am I obsessed with this? I have no clue!

Speaking of obsessions. I love everything about this photo. Why? Every detail in the background!

      • Where are you from?

This one will probably follow you always especially if you move to a new country at an older age. Your accent will always be such a giveaway. As soon as you open your mouth, at least in the United States, people are eager to ask where you’re from. Some people are funny enough to conclude that every black person with an accent must definitely be from Jamaica, and that’s probably one of the states of Africa, because after all, Africa is one country with many states just like Unites States.

      • Challenges on both ends

As harsh as it sounds, when you go back and forth between the two cultures, you will definitely realize that you blend in neither culture. You just choose what to adapt to and what to ignore. For example, time is very important in western countries, while it doesn’t mean anything in Africa at least. When in Africa, I often find myself annoyed by people who are late for meetings, especially when they don’t call to let me know that something came up.

When that happens, people around me wonder if I just fell from another planet because being late is normal in Rwanda. Similarly, as much as I try very hard, after several years, I still struggle to find the food that I like or adjust to the cold/hot weather in the US. Rwanda is a tropical country and the weather is close to perfection: (high 50s – low 90s) all year around.

      • Language butchering

In a country that speaks a different language than yours, you will realize that when you don’t pronounce their language the same way, you may be asked to repeat. Shortly after I arrived in the United States for the first time, I asked someone a question that had “learning” in it but they definitely heard “running“. Only then I realized that, “R” is pronounced differently from “L” in English while in Kinyarwanda they are identical.

Downtown Kigali in the distance on the hilltop!

Downtown Kigali in the distance on the hilltop!

      • Lagging behind

If you visit your home country, no matter how often you do that, you will realize that you live in the past (or at least the last time you were there). You will be amazed by how much everything has changed: new fashions, buildings, roads, sayings, new obsessions. Even if little has changed, it’s a big deal to you how everything looks. The excitement may plunge you into long explanations, only to realize that you sound like you are speaking a foreign language to your own people.

Believe me! Your efforts to describe that new beautiful tall building they just built where the bus station used to be won’t seize the moment for those who have seen the building under construction the year before. The breathtaking view from the hill where you can see most of the downtown Kigali at night with its beautiful lights? It’s just in your head, no one else finds it that stunning! It’s just life, you go into a series of emotions, whether young or older.

      • Embracing the new culture

This is very important and the final phase in the process of adjusting to the new culture and definitely a big deal if you want to enjoy your expatriate life. Some people tend to stick only around the community of people from their home countries. This one may render you bitter toward the new culture when you’re faced with a situation outside your community.

I once met a man from Rwanda who had been living in the US for 12 years at the time, but this man couldn’t speak English for a whole minute, literally. I was heartbroken! Take time to get out of your comfort zone and try new things. Be patient, humble and respectful. Explore, learn, master the language, and adapt to the culture. This will definitely make your life easier.

How about you? What has been your experience in a foreign country?

God is Exalted: My Blogging Experience So Far!

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When I started this blog back in July 2012, unlike most bloggers and writers I know, I honestly didn’t have a goal in mind that I wanted to achieve with it; for instance, reaching a specific type of demography, audience, how many people per month/year, or what type of posts to focus on, not to mention that English is not my 1st or 2nd language, can’t you tell ;).

Back then, I didn’t know how to work on a website, leave alone writing a blog that people would be interested in visiting and reading. I didn’t really have an exciting adventure to share with the world. I didn’t just move to a new country or enter a new era such as motherhood, a new career or discover a hidden talent. I was not a blossoming writer who was embarking on this journey with skills to enlighten people’s ears, hearts and minds.

Thankfully none of my friends asked me what I wanted to achieve through this blog. I honestly wouldn’t have had an answer to that. I mean, who else starts something without short/long term goals in mind? Anyway, now you know who I am, a blogger without blogging goals. Well, may be not so fast. There is one important thing that I haven’t noted here yet, it can may be help you judge then?

Part 1: Most visitors on this blog are located in United States, then Rwanda, India and so on.

Part 1: Most visitors on this blog are located in United States, then Rwanda, India and so on.

As a genocide against the Tutsi survivor and orphan by definition, God Has done so much in my life that I was feeling selfish to keep it to myself. If I started writing one by one, it will not be just one book, but multiple. Because God is great in me, that’s why I started this blog. If you look close, I have no talents! The credit goes to GOD.

I hope that this is convincing enough to you; I am very grateful for your time reading this. Oh by the way, although I must say that I have been learning a lot about blogging since 2012, I am still a work in progress. My full time job? I am an engineer, hopefully that explains it, or may be not.

What the above stats mean, it’s not about numbers; absolutely not. It’s a prayer to each and everyone who reads this blog that they will learn and/or be encouraged by the God who changed my life for good. I am so thankful to all my readers in the listed and unlisted countries.

Part 2: Continuation from Part 1

Part 2: Continuation from Part 1

My prayer today is that God who has been amazing to me in Rwanda, United States and other places, that He will build his kingdom wherever you are as you read this, win all the nations back to him and that his name will be lifted high.

Am I allowed to have favorites since I am the one who wrote these articles? May be! I love every post I have shared but here are the top 10 among my readers (statistics) and myself. Click on any of these below to read details and you will understand the reason I blog:

  1. In A Garden of Fame Where Their Treasured Memories Grow Fonder
  2. “To describe my mother would be to write about a hurricane in its perfect power.” — Maya Angelou
  3. Inconceivable Heroism Amid Horror
  4. Rising From Ashes: Beyond Broken Memories!
  5. Is it Always Possible to Forgive? This is how I understand it!
  6. Hope
  7. God is not “Fair”, He is JUST!
  8. The Truth Behind My Smile
  9. “It’s not how much we give but how much love we put into giving.” ~ Mother Teresa
  10. My Soul Magnifies the Lord: Now & Always!

God bless you,

Alphonsine

My Soul Magnifies the Lord: Now & Always!

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“For He Who is Mighty Has done great things for me, and Holy is His name.” Luke 1:49

Is it just me or 2014 flew by? I cannot believe that in just few hours 2014 will be in the past! Reflecting back, this year has been an amazing year for me personally for several reasons that I cannot be able to mention here all. I got to celebrate a lot of life achievements for my siblings that I call my children, among other things. I will share a few of them; as you read it, would you please praise God with me?

It has been indeed twenty years since we lost our parents and two of my siblings during the 1994 Rwandan genocide against the Tutsi but God Has been everything for us. He is our Father, Provider, Comforter, and everything we ever need! Overwhelmed by His love and Mercy, I can humbly quote what Hannah prayed to God after her barren womb was healed and she bore a son, Samuel:

“My heart exults in the Lord; my horn is exalted in the Lord.                                                                                 He raises up the poor from the dust; he lifts the needy from the ash heap to make them sit with princes and inherit a seat of honor. For the pillars of the earth are the Lord’s, and on them he has set the world.” 1 Sam 8: 1, 8

In 2014: 

  • My children and I managed to take a rare vacation for just 4 of us. Flying in from different corners of the world, we were able to enjoy our time together. Saying that it was the best week of my life would be an understatement!
Alphonsine, Alice, Mireille & Eric. March 2014

Me, Alice, Mireille & Eric. March 2014

  • My little sister Alice who has been studying in India for two years graduated with a Master’s Degree in Social Work and a second Master’s Degree in International Relations. When I sent her to school there, she was required to get just one degree, but she surprised me with taking a second program in parallel. This is just her character: she is a hard worker. I am very proud of her accomplishment and I praise God for being with her all the way.
Alice on her Graduation Day!

Alice on her Graduation Day! May 2014

  • My brother’s fiancee, Redempta Ingabire, graduated with a Master’s Degree in Information Technology from Carnegie Mellon University (CMU), Kigali Campus. I’m a very proud sister in law!
My brother and his fiancee on her Graduation Day

My brother and his fiancee on her Graduation Day! July 2014

  • My adopted son, Gilbert Shyaka, graduated from the University of Rwanda with a Bachelor’s Degree in Information Technology. Words cannot express my gratitude to God for everything He has done for this young man. To read his story, follow this link: A Story of Hope.
Gilbert on his graduation day.

Gilbert on his graduation day! August 2014

  • In November, my brother Eric completed his Master’s Degree in Information Science from Mount Kenya University. He’s currently waiting for the graduation day that will take place sometime next year.
  • My baby Mireille Noella (Miette), the youngest child of our family graduated from Kigali Independent University with a Bachelor’s Degree in Accounting. Privileged to have witnessed the ceremony, I was overwhelmed with gratitude and pride as she walked the stage.
Mireille on her Graduation Day!

Mireille on her Graduation Day! December 2014

  • My brother is now a grown up man. Him and his best friend Redempta tied the knot 11 days ago. I am privileged to have been there along with my Mom whom God placed in my life to be exactly a replacement of my Mother Colette I lost twenty years ago. I will never be able to thank God enough for His wonders.
My bro gets married!

My bro and his wife on their wedding day! December 2014

Mireille, Eric, Redempta, Alice, me and my Mom Glori

Mireille, Eric, Redempta, Alice, me and my Mom Glori. Dec 2014

I truly praise God for everything He has done for my family this year. The rest of my life is not enough to share about the work of His hands and live for His Glory! I look forward to 2015 with anticipation.

Happy New Year to you and all your loved ones.
God bless you,
Alphonsine

She Is A Princess! The world deserves to know!

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If you have visited my blog more than once, I’m sure you have met my siblings that I honorably call my children. This is not by coincidence. Since after God spared my life during the 1994 Rwandan genocide against the Tutsi, He entrusted me with the 3 most amazing siblings on this planet. Although they were all less than 10 years old at the time, I cannot imagine my life differently. Even though I have never been young and never got a chance to be selfish, I don’t have a regret.

This year, 2014, marks 20 years since after we lost our parents and two siblings, and how long I have been raising my siblings: Eric, Alice and Mireille. If I had to start all over again, I would do it in a blink of an eye. These 3 are the best thing that has ever happened to me.

Every single moment and breath I take, I praise God for honoring me with such great and important responsibility: to love and be a mother to an incredible man and two beautiful women anyone can ever wish for in their lives. I call them my TREASURE! Just shortly after the genocide against the Tutsi ended, the day I learned that my 3 siblings had survived, too, was my first sunshine of hope to give me a reason to live for, thrive and strive in this life.

It was the best day of my life!

My Adorable Baby. Isn't she a beauty?

My Adorable Baby Mireille Noella. Isn’t she a beauty?

You may have read the article I wrote about my brother Eric “Inconceivable Heroism Amid Horror” and another post about my sister Alice “She is A Pure Beauty. And a woman of God“. However, this specific post is unique in its own way, because I get to talk about my youngest sister, our princess Mireille Noella. She is my baby and I don’t feel any different than if I had birthed her myself!! This is very true. During the 1994 genocide against the Tutsi, Mireille was only 3 years old. I certainly owe everything to my little brother Eric who, at 8, kept both Alice (6) and Mireille (3) safe, when it was a matter of life and death and everyone running for their own lives. He sure is my hero!

When I share my story, people often ask me what I struggled most with since after the loss of my parents. My audiences wonder if it has been forgiving those who killed my family members or raising my siblings. Surprisingly, it is neither. My greatest life challenge has been to slowly realize how much Mireille doesn’t have many memories about our parents or life before the genocide against the Tutsi. For 13 years that my life was a paradise with the most incredible parents that ever existed, my baby does not remember much about her portion.

It can range from simple things like our family childhood dog’s name. Or routine things like the fact that we used to pray together every night as a family. She absolutely doesn’t remember this at all. When I sing our Mom’s favorite Gospel songs that she always sang to us when we were little, it sounds made up to her. Instead, she randomly remembers things that none of us knows where she got it from.

Few treasured photos we have of our parents and two siblings we lost in 1994, my little sister is unable to connect those images to our childhood before the tragedy. She’s completely disconnected from memories I hold onto so dearly! It breaks my heart. This is the deepest wound that I will probably carry for the rest of my life.

I will never find words to express to my readers that can accurately describe how much it hurt when Mireille speculated her greatest wish in this life: to see our parents again so she can get to call them “Mommy and Daddy“. Undoubtedly, this is a precious part of her life that has been snatched from her before she could get to live it. No wonder why she didn’t really talk much until after high school. It’s very touching when she calls me MOM; it absolutely melts my heart.

Very Stylist and Chic. She can easily be a model!

Very Elegant. She can easily be a model!

Mireille and I are almost 10 years apart; for this reason, she will always be young in my eyes, and simply a PRINCESS. I already accepted the fact that I can never replace our parents’ empty spot in her heart, but I know one thing: I love her with all my heart, for the rest of my life. There is simply nothing she can ever need that I am able to provide. She’s not only the youngest of 5 siblings. I watched her growing from a malnourished 3 year old out of the orphanage where the government placed my 3 siblings after the genocide against the Tutsi ended, to the most beautiful woman she is today!

Absolutely gorgeous and a fashionista from head to toe that I often wonder how we are possibly related, she is smart, a hard worker, intelligent, creative, loves God and people, very funny, although she may appear to be shy sometime. She is also spoiled, not only by me who would give her this planet if it was mine, but also by Eric and Alice who love her endlessly.

I will probably never fully understand why my little sister had to grow up without parents, but there is one thing that sustains me: GOD Who has been our Father, Comforter, Redeemer, Provider and everything we ever need to this day. I owe to the Lord every good possession and health that my siblings and I have.

Mireille may have been deprived of her precious childhood and forced to grow up in a hurry, but today she is finishing up her college senior project to graduate this December with a Bachelor’s degree in Accounting. And there are so many opportunities that await her ahead. I know very well that she will do amazing things in life!

Even if I have children of my own in the future, Mireille will always remain my oldest child as long as I shall live! Her, Eric and Alice will never, EVER need anything within my capability. This is my standing PROMISE to my parents in heaven and Jesus who has them with him. The Holy Spirit bears me witness! Although it may sound unreasonable to say, I praise God who has allowed me to somehow remain single this long so that my siblings can enjoy my full attention, which I certainly have for them, undivided.

I love them beyond comprehension. Mireille will always be my baby and spoiled until God calls me home. When I will see my parents in another life, I will be eager to narrate everything to them!

My love for my 3 siblings is unconditional, all my days!!

In A Garden of Fame Where Their Treasured Memories Grow Fonder: Two Decades Later!

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***

It’s hard to believe it’s been twenty years since you left us. The world simply hasn’t been the same without your presence — your beauty, your love, your light.

It still feels like yesterday,
when life was whole — a joyful family of eight, wrapped in your love and safety.

The pain of your absence never fades.
Not a day goes by without thoughts of you.
Though you’re no longer with us in body,
your memory lives — richly, eternally — in our hearts.

I believe God loved you so deeply that He called all four of you to His side.
But if I could ask Him for just one impossible gift,
it would be this:

To give me wings.
To soar to where you are.
To hold you tight,
to say “I love you,”
and never let go.

Until that eternal day, I remain under the shelter of God’s wings.
One day, death will lose its power, our tears will be wiped away,
and our hearts will be whole again — forever.

A Treasured Garden of Fame!

***

My dearest little sister, Marie Claudine “Magnifique” — you were an angel in life, and you left this world like one

Magnifique2014

It still breaks my heart to know you were among the very first taken
in our village when the Genocide against the Tutsi began that Thursday morning.
What could you have possibly done to deserve such cruelty?

I’m grateful I had the chance to say goodbye —
to see you one last time, your arms folded as if in prayer,
even as blood marked the violence that silenced you.
The image haunts me,
but I cling to the truth that God loved you far more than I ever could.

You left this world like an angel,
and I imagine heaven welcomed you with open arms that very morning —
Thursday, April 7th.
I marvel at the celebration held in your honor,
and I smile through tears knowing you were cherished.

One day, you’ll tell me all about it.
And when my time here is complete —
the very life that was spared this same month, twenty years ago —
I’ll catch you up on everything you’ve missed.

Until then,
I’ll carry your memory and love with me… always.
I will love you — forever.

***

Papa, you left too soon, but the confidence you placed in me as a little girl still carries me forward.

Papa2014

I vividly remember the day you surrendered your final breath — Sunday afternoon, April 17th.
That was the day we overheard the Hutu Interahamwe boasting that they had cut you into three pieces, and that they were hunting for us — Mom and the five children — to finish us all.

How could anyone on this earth harm you?

You may have been tortured in the flesh, but I know your sweet soul is safe with the God you taught us to pray to.
Do you remember how your face lit up whenever I did well in school?
I know you would have been proud to see me finish all the way to graduate school, land my dream job, and build a life in a faraway country that has become my new home.
Can you believe you weren’t here to celebrate with me?

I miss you every day.
But Jesus — my Savior and King — stands in your place and Mom’s.
He comforts me when I am afraid, He cheers when I succeed, and He still loves me when I fail.

Late 1994, I had a dream where I promised you:
That I would love your surviving children as you would have, had you lived.
I am humbled to say that I have kept that promise.
Whatever I have, I have shared with them.
And as long as I have breath, they will never lack for anything.

When Jesus returns in glory, and all the nations stand before Him, I will not be ashamed.
The Holy Spirit Himself is my witness.
And I know you, Mama, Marie Claudine, and Jean Felix will be among the great cloud of witnesses there.

There is so much I want to tell you — but for now, I trust God to fill you in.

I miss you, Papa.
But I am strong because of the foundation you laid, and the God you taught me to worship.
P.S. — Thank you and Mama for giving me the name Alphonsine — “warrior.”
You named me well. You prepared me for the battles ahead.

Rest in heavenly peace, Papa.
I will love you eternally.

***

Dear Mama, when I think back to our final moments together, I’m reminded of how you always stood for the truth — even when it cost you everything.

Colette_2014

As we waited by the mass grave for our death sentence that Sunday afternoon, April 24th, I remember how the blood-shedders asked if you had more children elsewhere, so they could hunt them down too.
You didn’t lie. You stood in truth — ready to walk into God’s heaven.

I remember pleading with the killers — begging them not to harm you before I came back, when they assigned a soldier to escort me — not to protect me, but to make sure I wouldn’t escape — as I went to bring Eric, Alice, and Noella.
Those desperate words were my final conversation with you.
And yet, by a miracle I can never explain, all three of them — and I — survived.

Today, I am their mother.
I love them more than anything in this life, and I do everything I think you and Papa would have done for us.
They — and God — are my witnesses.

Oh, how I wish you could see them now!
They’re all grown, beautiful, and extraordinary.
Eric and Alice will finish their Master’s degrees this year, and Noella, your last born, is completing college.
They are the greatest gifts I have ever received.

And there’s more:
Eric is marrying the love of his life later this year — a woman so incredible you would have adored her too.
God and I will take care of every detail in their wedding.
It breaks my heart that you and Papa won’t be there to see it.

Noella barely remembers your faces, but that’s okay. She has me now.
And as long as I live, she will be cherished, spoiled, and protected — this I promise you and Papa forever.

Mama, did God tell you that He blessed me with another mother here on earth?
She may not look like you, but she loves and nurtures me just as you did — almost as if you had sent her yourself.

I have so many amazing friends now, in a land far from our homeland.
They make me feel loved, and special.
I know you would be so proud.

Even though I only had you for a few short years, your love was pure, fierce, and unforgettable.
I still hear your voice when I am sick, feel your comfort when I am overwhelmed, and remember how you spoiled me with a love that asked for nothing in return.

There’s so much more I want to tell you — but I will save it for when we meet again in heaven.

I will love you forever, Mama.
Always.

***

My dear big brother Jean Felix, I’ll never forget how you stood as my protector at school — tall and strong, making sure no one dared come near

Nkeke2014

I’m so sorry that my last memory of you is one of suffering.
I wish I had been stronger — strong enough to stop the Hutu Interahamwe who beat you with sharp wires, while blood poured down your beautiful face.
That moment is burned into my heart.

Whenever I watch The Passion of the Christ, I’m reminded of you.
Just like Jesus, you were brutally beaten though you had done nothing wrong. And when I see His face — broken, bleeding, innocent — I see yours.

But I know, with absolute certainty, that on Sunday afternoon, April 24th, Jesus welcomed you and Mama into His beautiful heaven.
You belonged there far more than in this world of pain and injustice.

Those memories are hard to carry, but they also give me courage.
Knowing you’re no longer suffering brings me comfort and strength to keep going.

I know well that I will see you again — with Mama, Papa, and Magnifique — when I finish the work you all began, and fulfill the mission God entrusted to me.
That’s why He didn’t take me with you that day, okay? He had more for me to do.

Rest in God’s eternal peace.
I miss you every single day.
I will love you, all my days.

***

Jean Eric, Alice, Alphonsine, Mireille Noella

Eric, Alice, Alphonsine, Mireille Noella. 03/10/2014

Dear Loved Ones,

Eric, Alice, Noella, and I — twenty years later — still carry your memory as vividly as ever. Your love continues to water our spirits daily, etched into the pillars of our hearts. You are our heroes, and we hold fast to your words, your example, and your pride.

As we mark this twentieth commemoration of your lives taken too soon, we choose again to forgive those who killed you simply for how you looked, something you never bargained for at birth.

We pray your killers find God and repent, but if not, they will stand before the Redeemer and the Defender of the Fatherless. Justice is His alone. He will repay.

Your legacy lives on in us. We are stronger because of you, and everything we do is to make you proud.
We miss you deeply, but we know that you now dwell in the place where souls like yours belong — in peace, in glory, in heaven.

We will finish what you began.
You are alive in our hearts for as long as we live.
We will love you — forever and always.

She Is A Pure Beauty. And A Woman of GOD!

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I am very privileged to know this stunning woman and eternally honored to call her my sister. It may sound silly to say that about your little sister, but if I was asked about someone I know who is wise and rich in knowledge, she would be the first one in my mind. She is so many years younger than I am, but it’s incredible how she is full of wisdom. She always reminds me of our mother Colette; all my Mom’s good qualities got passed onto my little sister. The love she has for God is truly outstanding; she is a prayer warrior, a woman of faith. She inspires me and challenges me at the same time.

Alice is a very good planner and someone who makes everything look normal and organized in our family.  It’s not unusual to hear her friends entrusting their whole wedding plans into her hands and resting assured that everything will be perfect, because Alice is there. Unlike me and the rest of our two siblings, she is very outgoing and gets along with everyone she meets. She makes friends in public transportation, churches, public market, everywhere she goes. I definitely find it impressive because the last thing I would be comfortable doing is to talk to strangers in random places.

She is a very good cook, too, a skill that I certainly don’t have. She makes everyone feel welcome. You may find yourself too comfortable to leave; it happens often with her friends. On the other hand, I am not good at hosting parties or knowing what to prepare when I invite people over. I must admit that I have to think so hard when I have friends over :(. It doesn’t come naturally I guess!

Ladies and gentleman, allow me to introduce to you the most amazing woman on the whole planet, Miss Alice.
Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce to you the most amazing woman on the whole planet, my little sister Alice.

I am not the only one in our house who thinks Alice makes things work; recently we had a conversation about an upcoming big family event, trying to piece things together. Since Alice is currently away in grad school, our youngest sister Mireille said that when she comes back, she will fix this and that. None of us objected to that, we nodded in agreement. She doesn’t even know we volunteered her during her absence.

If there is a new project to be proposed for our family, Alice is somehow always the best one to bring it up, and she does it so amazingly that you can never argue or say no. When something major needs to happen, my little brother Eric and sister Mireille always put her in front and say that it’s her idea. She is very reasonable in what she says and very well articulated. My little sister especially slows me down when I am needlessly in a rush or being unreasonable, and reminds me that I can relax, after all, even parents need to chill sometime.

She is someone I can trust with all my heart; I can always rely on her words of wisdom. They lift me up. She is very creative in so many ways, brilliant and a very hard worker; for example, she initially went to grad school with the expectation to get one Master’s degree. When she arrived there, she decided to double major. She is now expecting two Master’s degrees this year. Alice also gets nominated for leadership roles everywhere she is, always. I often wonder how I am possibly related to my 3 siblings who are all way beyond talented and so beautiful!

There is not a single day that passes by without praising God for putting an incredible little sister in my life. I doubt that our parents ever got to know how amazing and special their little girl is, in only 6 years they had known her. I am glad I am there for them. I treasure everything in my heart and ponder on it often; I cannot wait to tell my parents all about it, in heaven.

Alice is an astonishing young woman, and I am very very honored that she is indeed my sister. She is beautiful inside-out, and I am forever proud of the marvelous woman my beautiful baby has become. I know she will do great things in life, there is no doubt about that; I am equally excited and looking forward to it all with great anticipation and gratitude.

Only God knows how much I love her, her sister and brother; because my love for them came from above!  They are my treasure all my days!

Glory be to you GOD, always!

Inconceivable Heroism Amid Horror

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My siblings and I grew up in a large family: two boys and four girls. I am the second and oldest girl; but this post is not about me. I want to share with the world about the fourth child, my little brother Jean Eric Claude. I vividly remember when he was born, I was almost 5 years old. He was a big baby (about 10 pounds), extremely beautiful with chubby cheeks and so much curly hair. I asked my mother if I could hold him, but I was unable to because he was too heavy for me. I am sure you are wondering if I am describing the right person basing on the below picture. By the way, that makes two of us! I am not sure how he grew up to become thinner than the rest of the family.

When Eric was young, him and I used to fight a lot. I am sure I provoked him but he was not that easy either. He played outside always, and was injured all the time from different utensils he collected or perhaps some fights he may have been involved in. He was a stubborn little guy.

On Sunday afternoon, April 24th, 1994, exactly 17 days since the genocide against the Tutsi began in Rwanda, everything changed! God must have stirred something unimaginable in this 8 year old’s heart after my Mom, my old brother Jean Felix, my cousin and I were led by the infamous interahamwe militiamen to the mass grave in the lower Kanombe, suburbs of Kigali, to be killed.

Sparing you the details for now, I miraculously survived but my Mom, brother and cousin didn’t. Although death was everywhere, I undoubtedly cherish that afternoon because God gave me another chance to life. However, the same day I got separated from my brother Eric, and sisters Alice and Mireille, who were all under 10. At this point, they were so certain I was dead, and I thought the same for them.

My handsome brother

My handsome brother, now a grown up man! I’m eternally honored to be called his sister.

With no instructions on what to do next or a moment to think about it, my baby brother immediately assumed the role of a big brother and a parent. Fleeing amid rain of bullets, blood thirst machetes and hiding in unfamiliar areas, he tied up a piece of blanket around his neck so his two sisters could hold on to it.

Sigh…

I often wonder how the blanket didn’t choke him or how he figured out that this would be the best approach for his dear sisters. Few times, the youngest Mireille who was 3, got separated from them; unable to decide what to do, she would simply stay wherever she was left. Was she scared? When you are aware that death awaits you any minute, the sense of feeling becomes numb, even at such age.
As soon as my brother realized that she was missing, when parents left babies to cry to death and everyone was just running for their life, my brother turned around to look for Mireille. No wonder why their hearts have been knitted together ever since!
Also each time they found something to eat after days, my little brother would let my sisters eat first. After they have had enough in their little tummies, only then he would grab some.
Their stories after we got separated still wound my heart greatly. It certainly is where my forgiveness is tried the most. But I praise GOD, for keeping them safe, allowing me to be part of their precious lives, and His amazing Grace!

The spoiled brat quickly became a MAN at that young age, a selfless one. I doubt I would have been able to put my life in danger to find my little sister or keep them safe, when sounds of terror and weeping voices of sorrow rang across all corners of the country. Only extraordinary, rare people would do that. I often wonder what was in his mind, but the LOVE he had for his little sister sure overcame his fear and selfishness of saving his own life. God Almighty knew well that I was incapable of doing such a heroic act and led me alone.

Mireille and Alice: My greatest happiness!

My Beautiful Girls, my Greatest Blessing, my Treasure! Mireille (left) and Alice (right).

Only those who have been through a genocide can understand my inability to describe the cruelty of the humans who became ferocious animals: babies were cut out of their mothers’ wombs and smashed against walls; relatives denied each other, neighbors turned their back on their friends, husbands killed wives and children, hell engulfed Rwanda. Amid terror, my little brother didn’t care about death that surrounded him, and God used him to keep my little sisters alive. He is my hero, my best friend! If I could get hold of the whole world, I would freely give it to him; if I was part of the Nobel Prize organizing committee, he would get at least a few of those!

My brother’s last name “Mudacumura”, means “innocent“ in both English and French. This truly depicts who he is. He has every quality you can possibly look in a great man: selflessness, humility, passion, compassion, a big heart, brilliant, kindness, funny, sweet, down to earth, loves God, handsome, a true gentleman! Until this day, he puts his siblings’ interests before his. He is the rock of our family, an exact replica of our father.

I CANNOT wait already for the day he will tie the knot with this incredible woman of his dreams, probably the luckiest girl on this planet. No one deserves happiness more than him. And I can’t wait for the day we will again see our parents, so I can narrate all about a little boy they left behind, now the most amazing man in the whole wide world.

I love my brother with everything functioning in me. Him and his two sisters are the reason I am alive, there is no doubt about that.

They will never, EVER, need anything my ability can provide; God and my parents in heaven have my word!

It hurts my feelings when I think that one day I may not be the first person they all run to for help. Of course I work hard for their independence, but it will greatly shatter my heart. They will always be my children, little in my eyes. And they certainly have all my love and attention, all my days!!!

And this, my friends, is the source of my strength and hope: God, the great I am!

“To describe my mother would be to write about a hurricane in its perfect power.” — Maya Angelou

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“Behind all your stories is always your mother’s story, because hers is where yours begin.” — Mitch Albom

It’s hard for me to understand when people say they aren’t close to their parents or siblings. I know every family is different—and sometimes painful distance is necessary. But I also know this: children never ask to be born, and too often they pay the price for a broken foundation they didn’t break.

In Rwanda, family isn’t just important—it’s sacred. You’re expected to stay connected not just to your parents and siblings, but to your entire extended family. That’s the world I was born into, and the world my mother, Colette, exemplified.

She was everything a mother could be: selfless, present, unwavering. As the eldest girl in a family of six, I should’ve seen her worries—but I didn’t. She shielded us from life’s hardest parts. If she and my father argued, we never heard it. If money was tight, we never felt it. She made our world feel like paradise.

She didn’t say “I love you” with words—we didn’t do that in our culture—but we knew. Through her care, her sacrifices, the small rewards when we succeeded. Even as we had house help, she ensured we learned to contribute, to grow.

My dearest Mom, the source of my inspiration!

When the genocide against the Tutsi began on April 7, April 1994, her daily prayer was heartbreaking: that if death was coming, it would come quickly—and take us all together. She didn’t believe any of us could survive alone. Seventeen days later, she was gone

Mama, four of us survived. And we didn’t just make it—we rose. The God you taught us to trust has carried us every step of the way. We miss you more than words can ever say, but we know you’re home with Him now. I promise—we will finish what you started!

One story I will never forget is the dream one aunt had in 1993, a year before the genocide. In that dream, she saw a terrible tragedy coming to Rwanda—people being killed, chaos everywhere. As she faced death in the dream, she cried out in prayer that my mother would survive. She believed and was certain that, if my mother lived, she would raise her children as her own.

That was the kind of woman my mom was—so full of love, even those outside our immediate family entrusted her with their children in their final thoughts. She was selfless in the deepest sense, giving her all for her family and others, never seeking recognition. Even as the genocide began, her final prayer wasn’t for escape—it was for her family to die together, quickly and without pain. She couldn’t bear the thought of her children suffering or surviving alone.

That level of sacrifice, of love, lives in me every day. Her story didn’t end with her death. It continues through the lives of the children she raised, the values she instilled, and the legacy we carry forward.

After the genocide, I made a silent vow: I would never call anyone Mom again. The word felt sacred—untouchable. Hearing others speak of their mothers only deepened the ache inside me. I kept that promise for 14 years.

Then, in 2008, God surprised me with a miracle named Glori. We met at a mutual friend’s dinner in Rochester, New York, and from the beginning, there was something different—something gentle, yet strong. A few months later, she gave me a gift I never thought I’d receive again: the invitation to call her Mom.

For the first time since 1994, someone called me “daughter.” And in that moment, something long-buried within me softened.

Maman et moi. Mars 2014

With my mom in town on my birthday: March 2014 (Raleigh, NC)

Glori loves in the most practical, powerful ways—reminding me to eat, giving advice, printing directions even though I have GPS, flying in every year to celebrate my birthday. When I visit her, she plans my time down to the minute, knowing how much I love my sleep and how long it takes me to get ready. I eat like a child at her table, wrapped in warmth I thought I’d lost forever.

It’s uncanny how much we have in common—our laughter, our passions, even the way we do things. It feels as if God, in His mercy, wove pieces of Colette into Glori, so I would always feel my mother’s love—just in a new form.

I never imagined I’d say “Mom” again. Now I say it with joy, with gratitude, and with a heart full of reverence. Colette gave me life. Glori gave me healing. And through them both, God showed me the fullness of His love.

If your mom is still with you—hold her close. If she’s in heaven, speak her name. Write her story. Keep her legacy alive.

I am the daughter of two extraordinary women. And I am blessed beyond measure.

My Little Sisters

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Okay, so, when it comes to talking about my children, wait a minute, my siblings, yes I took the liberty of adopting them as my own, I get super excited. You can blame GOD who gave me the love I have for them.

So, it was my birthday few days ago. How old I am? Let’s just say I was born many moons ago. In Rwanda, at least when I was growing up, we didn’t really celebrate birthdays; people barely remembered it was even their birthday, leave alone celebration. That has drastically changed recently though, and I guess it is because of the western influence through movies, TV, Internet, social networks & media etc. Not to mention that you do not ask a Rwandan lady how old she is, and this is almost true :).

My favorite part is best wishes messages I receive from friends and family. I have some friends whom we normally don’t get a chance to talk often, but they sure know when to drop me an e-mail, exactly to wish me a happy birthday. How thoughtful they are! I keep records of inspiring notes from friends, on paper or by heart, but for the sake of this post, I wanted to share this year’s messages from just my two sisters. Whether they used a dictionary, or Google translate, got a help from our brother or whether I underestimate their English skills is irrelevant here. I just love everything about them and their effort. I was deeply touched. “Ndagukunda” means “I love you” in Kinyarwanda.

Mireille Noella

Mireille Noella

Mireille, above, is the youngest of our family. I just love it when she calls me Mom, it melts my heart. I am sure parents would understand. This  is her message on my birthday:”My beloved sis and Mom, may this day brings and makes your spirit bright and there be many pleasant surprises for u from morning to night. May all your dreams come true  and this day be just right especially for u because u deserve it and all My Love.  HAPPY BIRTHDAY. NDAGUKUNDA.

Alice, below, wrote: “I’m so thankful that i not only have a magnificent sister, but an amazing friend that stands by me and supports me, by giving every piece of her life. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LOVE U SO MUCH.”

Alice

Alice

My brother Jean Eric’s messages, like always, are full of wisdom and beautiful wishes from the heart. His English is far better and I don’t get surprised as much as I do when it’s a message from Mireille or Alice.

I love them more than I can ever put in words. I sometime have silly thoughts when I picture my siblings’ respective wedding day. I wonder if I will be called “the mother of the bride/groom” or just “the sister of the bride/groom”, or later a grandma or just auntie. Either way, it will certainly be my best moments. Even if I had to start over again and raise them, I would do it in a twinkling of an eye.