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In the span of just 100 days, half a million lives were lost in a harrowing chapter of Rwandan history. Neighbors turned on neighbors, and innocent children witnessed the brutal slaughter of their families. Yet, three decades later, a remarkable story of reconciliation has unfolded, where many former victims and perpetrators have forged unlikely bonds, some even becoming friends. But how did this improbable transformation occur?
In Rwanda, amidst the lingering scars of genocide, astonishing reconciliations are unfolding. Unthinkable alliances have emerged between individuals once divided by violence: murderers and survivors, parents and children torn apart by mass atrocities. These reconciliations, however, were not easily achieved.
Liberatha, a 70-year-old from the Karongi district, recounts her initial refusal to forgive those who sought apologies after the genocide claimed the lives of her family and countless others. Yet, through a process of community-based sociotherapy, she now finds a glimmer of joy in unexpected places.
Every genocide eventually concludes, leaving survivors to bear their scars and mourn their dead. Perpetrators face justice or evade it altogether, while communities must grapple with the challenge of rebuilding trust amidst smoldering mutual suspicion. It is a slow, arduous, yet ultimately inspiring journey.
Rwanda's genocide stands as one of humanity's darkest chapters, with over half a million lives lost in a mere 100 days, mostly Tutsis, but also Hutus mistaken for or defending Tutsis. The brutality was not enacted by foreign invaders but by neighbors and acquaintances, compatriots who shared language, religion, and culture.
Since 1999, the Rwandan government has championed unity and reconciliation, aiming to erase the divisions of ethnicity and forge a single Rwandan identity. Yet, true reconciliation cannot be imposed from above, and Rwanda remains a society fractured by trauma.
In 2005, Dutch sociotherapist Cora Dekker introduced an innovative approach to healing in collaboration with local partners. Known as Mvura Nkuvure, meaning "I heal you, you heal me," this method has empowered over 64,000 Rwandans to confront their trauma and rebuild shattered lives.
Photographer Jan Banning and journalist Dick Wittenberg embarked on a month-long journey through Rwanda, seeking out stories of former enemies turned friends through sociotherapy. They discovered a nation haunted by the specter of past atrocities, where survivors and perpetrators alike navigated a fragile coexistence.
For many, life after the genocide was akin to walking on eggshells, with fear and anger poisoning everyday interactions. Yet, through therapy, individuals learned to confront their pain, rebuild trust, and envision a future untethered from the horrors of the past.
The goal of sociotherapy is not merely forgiveness or reconciliation, but rather the restoration of dignity and strength in the face of trauma. Trained volunteer therapists guide participants through a series of sessions, fostering safety, trust, care, and respect, ultimately enabling them to embrace a future defined by hope rather than hatred.
As sessions conclude, many groups choose to continue meeting, unwilling to relinquish the newfound sense of community they have forged. For participants like Ezechiel, Elie, and Letetia, sociotherapy has been nothing short of a lifeline, offering unexpected gifts of liberation, healing, and human connection in a world once defined by loneliness and despair.