February 24th, 2009
Claudine, the story you never heard.
After I saw this, I had to write something… anything.
It’s the toughest thing I’ve read in my life. But we can’t close our eyes.
My aim is to denounce rape. I am 52 years old. I have nine children. We are suffering a lot even if they say we have peace. We do not. I will tell you what happened. I was selling beer in the market. We met some Interhamwe. They stopped us. They were talking Kinyarawnda. There were 12 of us. They said. “Today you will see. Today you will have other husbands.” They told us to lie down. They started beating us with sticks. They all started raping us. They took us into the forests. They beat us more. They raped us again. They walked us again to another camp until one in the morning. Then they tied us to trees. They tied us so tight. There were six women then and two husbands. They raped us in front of them. All the misery of the world was in our heads. We woke up so hungry. They said we had to wait for guests. New sex slaves. They came with a pregnant woman. They told me to cut her open with a knife. I couldn’t do it. My hands were trembling. They opened the belly of the woman and threw the baby on the ground. The woman died. Then they chopped up the baby and cooked it. Everyone peed on it with urine and put feces in it. Then they said we had to eat it. They bought bananas. They made us eat it. They said. “You fucking Congolese. You are eating your own sisters.” Then the husband of the woman who had been pregnant came looking for his wife. They took him to show where his wife gave birth. He gave them his small dollars. Then another soldier came and hit him and then they killed him. They kept us for two months. They said now soon you are going to die. Oh God, we said. They said, we don’t know God. In the morning we heard Congolese soldiers. They screamed for us to lie on the ground. There was lots of shooting. Then they told us to stand and we went to Panzi hospital. We were treated. We were not HIV. After a few days at home, the Interhamwe came again. They killed my uncle, my son, the wife of my brother. I could hear them cutting their heads.


Claudine,
your story makes me weap,
you are alive
it’s a miracle I know,
but how do you
continue to live,
after what you’ve been through?
Oh Claudine,
You changed my life,
You went through hell,
You’re living in despair
And it won’t stop,
Until the massacre
Ceases to exist.
Until the rapes,
The mutilations
And deaths
Become the past.
How will it end?
Will it end?
It is possible to change,
But when?
It’s already too late,
Those lives will not come back.
Those women are forever marked,
With the scar of abuse,
With the tattoo of
The beatings.
Oh Claudine,
You made us see,
That the world is not
The life with live.
That reality is harsh
And cruel and vicious
Where you live.
And it’s the Earth,
We share the same home,
And we complain about our jobs,
Our daily chores.
At least we have all that,
When all you have is faith
On a tomorrow that will
Bring a sun to shine your way,
On a future filled with justice,
A future where peace prevails.
You are a hero,
You are a survivor,
And I love you.
I feel your pain,
I’m here for you Claudine,
I want to be your friend.