Words without Borders; The Home of International Literature

Words without Borders; The Home of International Literature
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Tuesday, April 7, 2026

Holding Rwanda: Remembering the Genocide, Honoring Renewal by Octavia McBride-Ahebee

 Today I spent the morning calling and texting my friends in Rwanda, letting them know that on this momentous day in the history of their nation, I am holding them in my thoughts.

Standing with my daughter in Rwanda at the Kigali Genocide Memorial,  learning and holding close the stories that must never be forgotten.

7 marks the beginning of Kwibuka, Remembrance,a national period of mourning. The word Kwibuka, in Kinyarwanda, means “to remember.” It commemorates the start of the Rwandan genocide in 1994, when, over the course of approximately 100 days, an estimated 800,000 to one million people, primarily Tutsi, along with moderate Hutu, and Twa were systematically killed.

Names of some of the victims who
were killed, remembered here.



Kwibuka is not only a time of grief, but also of witness. Across Rwanda and throughout the diaspora, there are vigils and acts of collective memory ensuring that the lives lost are not reduced to numbers, and that the truth of what happened is neither denied nor forgotten.
Rwanda, a small country in central East Africa.

And yet, alongside this profound mourning, there is also a recognition of what has followed. In the decades since 1994, Rwanda has undertaken a remarkable and intentional process of rebuilding. Through community-based justice systems such as Gacaca, national reconciliation efforts, and investments in education, healthcare, and infrastructure, the country has worked to restore a sense of unity and shared future. Today, Rwanda is often noted for its stability, its emphasis on collective identity over ethnic division, and its leadership in areas such as gender equity and sustainable development.

We visited many genocide memorials across Rwanda.




To remember Rwanda is to hold both truths at once: the depth of its loss, and the strength of its renewal. Today, I remember. I reach out. I stand in quiet solidarity with my friends and with a nation that continues, with dignity and determination, to carry its past while building its future.

My daughter conducted interviews in Rwanda, exploring why so many African American women are choosing it as their new home.
Rwanda is incredibly lush, its greenery constant and alive.

Feeling on top of the world!



My daughter reconnected with a friend from Stanford in Rwanda, and she graciously invited us to a beautiful Rwandan wedding.


Another dear friend opened his home to us, introducing us to his wife and family.