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The elder brother had already been killed and her father and younger sister were seriously wounded by grenade shrapnel. Her other brother and two nephews had disappeared and were probably dead, she thought.
“I cried and told Mama ‘they are going to die… We are lucky to be alive, we must leave,'” Mukakamanzi says.
But her deeply devout mother refused.
She said she had sworn before God “never to leave Daddy, either in good times or bad.”
She relates slowly, with great emotion, the last moments with her mother, whom she left kneeling in prayer beside her injured husband and younger daughter.
“I told her: ‘Goodbye, Mama. We’ll meet in heaven’.”
The Interahamwe stormed the stadium that night.
By the time they had finished their work, ten thousand people who had been sheltering at the stadium the previous morning lay dead.
Emerging from the memorial, Mukakamanzi points to a thickly wooded mountainside through which she fled.
– Baby buried alive –
She lived like a hunted animal the next few weeks, hiding in the forest and only emerging at night.
One day she came across a hostile group. She was stripped and attacked. A woman then plunged a knife into her breast — a wound that caused a horrendous swelling, Mukakamanzi says.
She tried to go to the home of her godmother’s brother in a school in Kibuye but found no trace of him.
“There were bodies strewn all over the school,” she remembers.
Discovered by an Interahamwe group, Mukakamanzi — fatigued and famished — was asked to “dig a hole to bury a baby alive”.
“I refused… They were going to kill me anyway,” she says, recalling the incident with glassy eyes.
“The Interahamwe dug a hole and put the baby in it… I can still see it shaking its head trying to get the soil out of its mouth.”
She was then beaten with mallets and left there.
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