The events of ten years ago found me in Paris, in the office of the African National Congress (ANC), trying to continue to hope after the assassination of Chris Hani, and in Rwanda Felicien Gatabazi. But the news of Habyarimana’s death while the Arusha Peace Accords needed to become a reality was a sign that peace was not for that time.

Today exactly 10 years day after day, the tensions and the questions are still there, and their locations are multiplied. Let me share with you some of the questions that have been my companions since 1995, when I started to look more systematically into the responses to violence in post-genocide Rwanda. Let me say how I learnt about the universality of differences when it comes to expect justice and reconciliation. Why justice and reconciliation?

I have asked similar questions to thousands of people across Rwanda. As I kept on asking questions, I become aware that I can say less about the universality of their expectations, instead I must pay particular attention to their particular experience. I have learned that the answers to the many questions I have raised are far from being straightforward, including within the boundaries of the same “identity group”.

For some, justice was the ability to move on with their lives with amnesia; for others justice was testifying at a trial against the ones who raped, murdered or tortured them or their families. For some, justice is fulfilled with reparation; and for others justice is the possibility to burry their beloved ones in dignity.

Reconciliation too was so fluid a word though for most it equates to living side by side in the same community; for many it is forgiving without conditions in the name of God; some seemed convinced that given a chance they could rebuild tomorrow together while some think it can no longer be the same.

For others it is the prospect to live and raise their children in a country guaranteeing genuine security for all. The ideal of reconciliation is inextricably bound up with yesterday and the promises of tomorrow. Finally, the framing of justice and reconciliation without asking for whom, by whom, with whom and for what purpose leaves little room for other conceptions of what will allow Rwanda to acknowledge all voices and find a common pathway.

I have tried to understand what actually the legal apparatus would achieve in this context. I spent years listening to the stories of women that have experienced sexual violence during the conflict, by meeting them in their gatherings or their homes. My intention was then to look at the ways to voice their particular experiences and needs at the UN international tribunal, based in Arusha, and to monitor the considerations given to them by the tribunal.

The more I listened to their stories, the more I tried to make sense of what, beyond the “violation of their human right” in them was affected, and how far a judicial process could actually address it. I thought that knowledge could be a balm and foundation for a future Rwanda and went to the university to share my questions with the men and women of varied experiences.
Attending the public testimonies of prisoners who plead guilty helped make sense of the process and mechanisms that allowed popular violence to happen, but brought me another infinite set of questions. The sessions I had with prisoners helped me understand their experiences, their hopes and also their worries. What could justice and reconciliation possibly mean in this context?

After 10 years of being a careful student what have I learnt?

I am still at pain to tell in which ways to respond to the consequences of violence that has had such a high level of active participation in Rwanda and how individuals and groups forming Rwanda today look at these strategies aimed at assisting them rebuilding their lives and community.

It is probably not fruitful to view processes of justice and reconciliation as isolated a-historic phenomenon existing outside the realm of politics and every day life. But what have been the contribution of mechanisms such as fictionalized reconstructions of history; reinforcement of an in-group and out-group identity, legitimization and institutionalization of violence? Responding to the consequences of violence include an understanding of the interactions that occur on a daily basis among people whose sense of trust has been destroyed and those fearing reprisal for their deeds.

Another critical component of responses to violence is the recognition that these interactions occur on multiple levels of society but also are affected by time.

Dear sisters, dear brothers, dear friends. I know I have already taken so much of your time and patience, however I will ask for a last favour: have a second tomorrow to think about the women and men of Rwanda. In the name of peace, and love always.