The tarmac gives way to dirt road as it leads closer to the Kigali Memorial center, winding upward through a small marsh and a dusty neighborhood. Kigali spreads out to the left, square homes of concrete stacked like stairs climbing Rwanda’s cone-shaped hills. The Memorial itself is a circular, white building, built in a modern style with long vertical windows and a rose garden expanding from the building down the hill. The building is designed to lead visitors around in a circle from room to room and then upstairs into two more circular exhibits.
Inside it is nearly silent. Aside from guides waiting to help visitors at the entrance, recorded voices quietly speaking Kinyarwanda are the only sounds. After making a donation into a glass box holding money from all over the world, visitors can follow a guide into the circular hallways. Beneath the heading “Before,” the tale of Rwanda’s colonial history is told first. Photographs captioned in Kinyarwanda, French and English check the walls, lit softly and complemented by a small screen showing videos taken of Belgians measuring the head shape and eye color of Rwandans.
The next hallway describes the genocide. Photos of the dead, descriptions of the speed with which the genocide took hold, prove the complete terror and efficiency of the tragedy.Freestanding columns face the genocide wall, each featuring artful photographs of ordinary Rwandans made extraordinary by their bravery during the massacres. Women and men who sheltered the hunted look at visitors with eyes full of hope and resolution. In the center of the first floor, peaceful African statues of polished stone dance in a circle, surrounded by photos of genocide victims. The photographs hang loosely, clipped onto wires. The photos lead into a room lined with faces hanging in the same simple manner.
There are too many to take in completely. Visitors can sit on square black cubes and study the many faces: women and brides, young men in trendy sunglasses, elderly couples and families holding their children.
The next room is designed to eliminate any suspicion that the genocide was merely a rumor. In the darkness, dim lights glow in glass cases filled with bones: skulls of the genocide victims, leg bones, carefully put back together and rearranged. This is common in many memorials in Rwanda. The bones give a voice to the dead and a reminder to the living.
Another room is filled with victims’ clothes, hanging as though they were still being worn. Personalities leap from the jeans, skirts and old t-shirts situated behind glass walls. The most devastating exhibit in the museum is saved for last by the guides, perhaps intentionally: it is the children’s memorial.
Beneath enormous photos – much larger than life – of children sleeping and at play, visitors read about their personalities and dreams. Their last words, their favorite foods, their talents and how they died are written in short sentences with the care of loved ones. The exhibit is dedicated to Rwanda’s lost future.
The visit is not complete without a walk through the gardens and mass graves surrounding the Kigali Memorial. There are eleven graves in all, each the size of a small room and filled with coffins containing those who died in and around Kigali. These victims, resting beneath concrete slabs spotted with flowers, are the final proof of a genocide that has been denied by many.
The Kigali Memorial Centre in Gisozi is more than just a reminder of the horrible tragedy that occurred during those few months in 1994. It is a place for healing; a place where anyone can go to pay respect to those who have died needlessly. The Aegis Trust and its Rwandan partners have bravely created a place where foreigners and Rwandans alike can learn about the tragedy and the healing process that still follows.
For more information, visit www.kigalimemorialcentre.org or www.aegistrust.org. And please, if you are in Kigali, don’t miss the Kigali Memorial Centre.
