How Félicité Niyitegeka Saved her Tutsi Neighbors from Genocide in Rwanda

It was the second week of April 1994, and Niyitegeka saw the threat of genocide. The Centre Saint-Pierre is a Catholic charity center in Gisenyi, a quiet lakeside town in western Rwanda, that people often visit to escape their ordinary lives. For decades, she gave food, clothing, and money to those in need. Ntegeka braced herself to serve in ways she couldn't yet imagine as the Hutu militia bands swept toward Gisenyi. She told a friend before the killings began that she was in danger.

The situation in Rwanda deteriorated since April 6, when President Habyarimana's plane was shot down. The Hutu majority stepped up to claim power after Habyarimana's death. The new leadership of the country unleashed Hutu militia groups, including the notorious Interahamwe. The militias began their killing spree around the country after murdering the Tutsis in the capital. Almost all of the people who were killed in the genocide were from the same ethnic group.

As soon as she grasped the threat, Niyitegeka went into action. She began to help the people of the Hutu race cross the border into the Democratic Republic of Congo and safety. The beloved 60-year-old woman, ignoring the Interahamwe's threats against her, succeeded in saving about two dozen Tutsis from certain death.

Niyitegeka's bravery is not well known outside of her home country of Rwanda, but she is still celebrated there as a national hero. She made a statement against the divisions she saw in the society.

The world needs to be tasted!

She was the kind of person you would like to have a conversation with. She had a high level of energy and was seen as a kind of wise older sibling by her cousin. Niyitegeka sent him letters when he was a young boy to encourage him to study hard. She was known for mending rifts between her loved ones.

Even as most other women of her generation were starting families, her life of celibate service seemed like a natural fit. The Apostolate, a lay Catholic order, included both Hutu and Tutsi members in the 1950s. She received further religious training in Lourdes, France, and began managing the Centre Saint-Pierre.

The Centre Saint-Pierre was where Niyitegeka was going when the killing squad began their rampage. After the killings started, the retreat participants stayed at the center, knowing that they risked their lives returning home. The center had rooms and loft space for other people who were nearby.

Niyitegeka realized that she couldn't protect her charges in Gisenyi as the militias moved in. She decided to take them further out of danger. The location of Gisenyi, along the sparkling sand beaches that ring Lake Kivu, was an ideal jumping-off point for escaping the militias.

While the refugees hid in the Centre Saint-Pierre's hidden spaces, Niyitegeka called her contacts across the border, arranging for them to provide temporary shelter for the refugees once they arrived. She knew soldiers who bribed them to look the other way when people walked by. She had watched as neighbors and friends were torn apart by a fault line. The bribes helped restore a sense of community.

Niyitegeka was going to send a group of refugees across the border at 2 a.m. on April 19, 1994. She brought Adria Umurangamirwa to my room and told him not to take anything with him. I will show you the list of people you are taking.

The refugees were blessed in the chapel and then squeezed through the back door of the center. They were told to look for a light from a house in the city of Muzizi before they left the grounds. They would know they were out of danger when they saw the beam of light.

It took about fifteen minutes to walk from Centre Saint-Pierre to the border, according to Dusengumuremyi. The journey was dangerous. The path was surrounded by bushes that looked like dark clouds at night, making it hard for travelers to orient themselves. Nobody knew who was in the shadows.

As the group crept along the path, Umurangamirwa saw a soldier in the dark. She thought he would kill her. Instead, the soldier told her to follow the others, and Umurangamirwa realized that he was likely one of the men Niyitegeka had bribed so that the group could cross.

The group was moving under a moonless sky. I found that light after ten minutes, and I told them.

The group reached the Hôtel des Grands Lacs, which is within the territory of Zairian. Everyone sang a hymn together after Ummirwa greeted a few people she knew. When Ummirwa called to let her know they had all arrived safely, Niyitegeka exclaimed a cry that expresses a joy so great it.

On the afternoon of April 21, Felicitas came running over, telling me to warn everyone that the killers were approaching the Centre Saint-Pierre. According to reports, some of the killers had guns. Others were armed with weapons.

They wentaded her after forcing their way into the center.

I haven't seen any inyenzi, Ntegeka retorted.

The nocidaires fired back with more insult. They told Niyitegeka to stay behind, knowing that her brother was a colonel in the army. Nzungize tried to get his sister to leave the Centre Saint-Pierre, but she refused.

They threw us into the cars, and Niyitegeka was the first to board the buses. Mukarugero begged her to leave, but Niyitegeka said she had not committed any sin. I will be with you.

Kayitesi writes that he was surprised at the number of people going to the market.

The killers ordered everyone out after the buses pulled up. Niyitegeka told the people not to be afraid. She clasped Kayitesi's hand as the shootings began, then moved back and said something to Kayitesi that sounded like leave me. As she passed through the bus door, she saw Niyitegeka crumple to the ground, shot alongside the refugees she had stayed with to the end.

Eric Murangwa is a survivor of the genocide against the Tutsi and co- founder of the Ishami Foundation.