This is My Story

Memories filled up my mind as I stood where my beloved husband and three beautiful children lay, deep beneath the Earth’s soil. Tears welled up in my eyes as I thought about how they would never continue their lives, and how fortunate I was to get away from the soldiers who would soon after rip my family apart and take their precious lives away.

I must do it for them, I thought to myself. They wouldn’t have wanted me to laze around waiting to get killed, by landmines or bombs, or the heartless soldiers who enjoy killing innocent civilians. It is just not right. I finished talking to my husband and kids, as I knew it would be the last time I’d see them, before escaping the war in Rwanda. I walked away from their graves, away from Gaspard’s house, with my little bag on my back, which contained my passport, wedding ring, family photo and necessities like food and water. I felt as if I was abandoning myself and my family. If only they were here fleeing with me…….

I made up my mind. I set my eyes up on travelling to Europe. But no! I cannot be a refugee. I will be a tourist, visiting the countries and visiting the monuments that have made them famous. That’s what tourists do, right? Most of all, I will be a tourist who is able to sleep comfortably, without the fear of something happening to me. That helped me, as it is better than how my life is now. Full of fear, of what might happen when I’m not watching my back.

It was a while before I reached the border of Rwanda, and met a people smuggler in Tanzania. From there, I remember sailing on a boat, with my hopes set high for Europe. There was about, I think fifteen of us travelling in the boat. That doesn’t sound like much, but for a small boat, which we all had to share, sleep and eat on for two weeks, I couldn’t have imagined that it was going to be this bad.

On the first day sailing on the boat, little did we know that there was a tragedy waiting to happen. We discovered that our toilet, for the next two weeks, was literally a hole at the end of the boat, leading out to sea. You could imagine how horrified we were. Late at night, a little child was doing nothing harmful, just doing his own business in our so called “toilet”, but suddenly the water became rough and the waves higher. After his Mum’s screaming and attempts to save him, the small boy fell overboard. No one could get to sleep that night, until the mum’s wailing and sobs stopped after she finally was exhausted enough to fall asleep.

We kept to ourselves on the boat, and hardly ever talked to each other. We would just mind our own business, which got really boring at times. The weather was unpredictable, as one day would be windy and cold, the next sunny and unbearably hot. No one ever moved from their spot, unless to go to the toilet, and we would sit on the edge of the boat, facing each other without a word, and rocking from side to side every time we went over rough waters. There wasn’t that much food and I basically lived on the food I took on board
with me; water and bread. We all would get sea sick at times. At the beginning of our trip, it was hard for me not to get queasy at times, and it took me a while to get over the vomiting. Imagine how miserable that would be, staying on a small boat that had no life.

It seemed like a month, but finally we arrived at the border of Portugal, where we were all met by soldiers. I feared for my life again, thinking they were going to kill us all, one by one, just like how they treated my family. They took us away, not to kill us, but to send us to a detention centre, as what we did was apparently illegal! We weren’t told that anything we were doing was wrong!

The detention centre was overcrowded. It was hard to get a good meal, as there was so many of us, but I couldn’t complain about sleeping on a proper bed! After about a month or so, I was transferred to England, where I stayed in a quieter detention centre. What I liked about this centre was that there was a little room, with a TV in the middle, and a couch. A lot of us would sit there and comfort each other, late at night, when we couldn’t get to sleep and missed our family.

After a couple of months, lots of traumatising interviews where I had to relive my experiences, I was granted a visa in England. That day is stuck in my mind, as it was like having a second chance at life.

I now work as a human rights campaigner, as I believe that everyone should be treated equally, no matter what gender, race and size. I have also written three books about my journey as a refugee, so that people understand what we go through, and have a different perspective of us, and how lucky they are. I have adopted three of my nieces, who lost their family in the war too. I have been back to Rwanda, and now live there, and since have built a new home. I visit my husband and kids everyday, who always stay with me in my heart, wherever I go.

THE END