Menu
Rwandan genocide survivor speaks about perseverance, forgiveness
ROACHDALE -- For many, the term "genocide" invokes images of the Holocaust, the systematic killing of six million Jews by Nazi Germany under Adolf Hitler.
This sort of persecution and singling out of another racial, political or cultural group is a prime example of genocide. Unfortunately, it is not history’s only example.
A more recent occurrence engulfed the east-central African nation of Rwanda in 1994. From April to July of that year, one tribe hunted down another. An estimated one million people were killed, with racism and cultural domination at the core.
Kizito Kalima, only a teenager when he fled the country after the mass murder ended, is a survivor of the Rwandan genocide. He now gives his time and treasure to help those he believes need it most, as well as to promote peace in areas affected by violence.
Last Friday afternoon, Kalima shared his harrowing experiences with three classes at North Putnam High School, as well as both the boys’ and girls’ basketball teams. He also spoke to students at North Putnam Middle School earlier in the day.
Kalima’s perspective of the Rwandan genocide developed when he was just 14 years old. President Juvénal Habyarimana had been assassinated, and he thought his demise had ended what was considered by many Rwandans as a dictatorship. However, Kalima’s mother saw darker implications.
“My mother told me not to get too excited,” Kalima told the students. “Because the Tutsis will eventually be blamed for this.”
Habyarimana’s assassination set off a bloody conflict between the Tutsi and the Hutu, ethnic groups in Rwanda which had been at odds with each other before the genocide began.
Kalima soon found himself a hostage of Hutu genocidaires. He was beaten, tortured and then imprisoned. Confronted by the prospect of death, he wondered if it was worth it to run away when faced with being cut down with a machete.
“What would you do?” Kalima pointedly asked. “Do you run? Do you fight? Or do you freeze?”
Seeming to catch the students off-guard with this question, Kalima said he chose to run for his life, adding that, at the time, he thought he could “outrun” a bullet.
Kalima made his escape and eventually found his family members who were still alive. However, they were tricked into believing the violence was over. Kalima’s mother was shoved into a red car and driven away. He later learned she had been killed and dumped into a mass grave.
“That was the last time I saw her,” Kalima said. “It has been 25 years since she has been gone. Whenever I see a red car, I have flashbacks of her being taken away.
“Go home, give your mom a hug and then just run away,” he told the students. “Because you never know the last time you’re gonna see them.”
Kalima, along with other captives, made another escape and found himself in the swamps of southern Rwanda. He remained there for nearly three months until he was eventually found by pro-Tutsi forces - weakened, hungry and with a severe infection in his toenails.
Believing he was the last person left, Kalima was taken to a refugee camp and “resurrected,” as he put it, back to health as the genocide came to an end.
Accepting that no one else in his family was still alive, Kalima found himself sinking into an intense depression. He shared that he had tried to commit suicide, racked with shame over the violence that was perpetuated.
After later leaving Rwanda, Kalima found solace in playing sports as he roved the countries surrounding his homeland. At six-feet, nine-inches tall, he was a good fit for basketball, but enjoyed other sports such as volleyball and soccer.
“I was preparing for life,” Kalima told the students. He went on to say to the teams that anyone could be successful by having the talent and passion for a cause, along with the determination to see it through.
In a surprise moment, Kalima was invited to play in a tournament in Savannah, Ga. Offered multiple scholarships, he wanted to go back to school first. Kalima finished his high school education in Chicago, and then enrolled into the South Bend campus of Indiana University.
As Kalima put it, sports had become a “medicine” for dealing with the trauma he had endured. He was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), but still sought purpose in basketball until injuries hampered his ability.
Kalima graduated from IU South Bend with a degree in criminal justice in 2005 and began to build his professional livelihood. However, the memories and hatred stemming from the genocide stayed with him.
“I was angry, because I had a grudge against those who had killed my mother and raped my sister,” he said.
This attitude began to change when he learned about the advocacy of Eva Kor, a survivor of the Holocaust who, along with her twin sister Miriam, was experimented on while held at the Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration camp.
Kalima attended one of Kor’s Saturday lectures at the CANDLES Museum in Terre Haute. When he spoke with her about his experiences, she encouraged him to begin talking more openly about the genocide.
“We clicked from Day 1,” Kalima said of that first meeting. “You need somebody like that to guide you, and she was like a mother to me. She was tough and pushed me, but she wanted me to tell my story.”
Kor herself was originally scheduled to speak to the students last Friday. However, she passed away on July 4 during an annual trip to Auschwitz through the CANDLES Museum, which she founded in 1995.
It seemed fitting that Kalima was invited in her place, highlighting the similar philosophies and life stories they both shared as survivors of genocide and advocates for peace.
Kor’s example inspired Kalima to establish the Peace Center for Forgiveness and Reconciliation in Indianapolis. He now regularly speaks to a variety of audiences, and has addressed the United Nations on the implications of the Rwandan conflict.
“They were sick people,” Kalima told the Banner Graphic. “What I mean by that is having a hate inside them. And I believe the best way to help cure that sickness is by providing the basics.”
He added that a great part of this sickness is the want to blame those feelings on others. For him, accountability and taking control of one’s destiny is just as crucial to allowing those wounds to heal.
Kalima, who speaks five languages and understands an additional two, said he acts on this belief through the Peace Center, which assists refugees, immigrants and low-income families, as well as those affected by conflict, with services such as food stamps and searching for employment.
“I want to show that we need to work together,” Kalima said over lunch with Superintendent Nicole Singer, Principal Jason Chew, teacher Sheri Roach and others prior to the presentations. “I want to bridge that gap.”
Though his experiences detail the social prejudices and castigation that fueled the genocide, Kalima also provided some simple guidance of his own to the students who listened to him.
“The genocide in Rwanda is a copy-and-paste of the Holocaust,” Kalima provided. He cited the role of propaganda used to target the Tutsi population and negatively distinguish class and social hierarchies.
This element transitioned to his belief that social media can be used in a similar way - but can be spread much quicker and much more widely.
“Social media can cure or kill,” Kalima warned the students. “If you have 10 friends on Facebook and your write a post saying ‘I hate Johnny,’ those 10 people are going to see it.
“That post can be hurtful to someone, so choose to spread positivity and forgiveness instead,” he concluded. “We’re going to do that by you getting involved.”