Personal memories of my time in Rwanda as an Aid Worker with Trócaire
Many of you will recall that it is twenty years since the genocide in Rwanda when April 1994 saw the outbreak of the terrible atrocities there. The Hutu extremists exterminated almost three quarters of the Tutsi population. The media gave daily updates on the events happening there and we, in Ireland, were horrified to see thousands of people streaming out of the country to escape certain death and to see pictures of several dead bodies floating down the River Kivu.
I began to think seriously of how I could help when I saw a picture, on the evening news, of a dead woman lying on the ground and her live child trying to breast feed. That summer, our first Congregational Chapter was in progress and, among the reports that came every day, were requests for Sisters to volunteer for Rwanda. After obtaining leave of absence from my job with the Health Board, I contacted Trócaire to say I was interested in going as a volunteer to Rwanda.
Bríd is seen above with her family before leaving for Rwanda
As plans progressed I was to be accompanied by a young nurse, Lorraine. We flew out to Nairobi and were met by Trócaire personnel and our Sisters from Ngarariga. We were supposed to fly to Rwanda the following day but, since there were no fixed flights going there, we had to fly to Burundi. However, there was no information coming to us regarding the time of departure of the flights, so we had no idea when we might leave. When I looked out at the runway and saw our bags sitting there and also spotted the small plane in which we would be travelling, I nearly panicked and felt like turning back. However I kept my thoughts to myself and boarded the 18 seater plane for Burundi. We flew off into the sun.
We arrived in Bujumbura, Burundi as the sun was setting but alas there was no one to meet us there. The customs officers were tough and of course the language was a problem. We had to get visas to get into Rwanda and these were ready on the following day. Three vehicles of volunteers set off for Rwanda. When we arrived at the border we had to wait on the roadside for our documentation to be checked and then into Rwanda we went. It was very upsetting to see the state of the country and all the crops destroyed, the houses bullet-ridden and the countryside deserted. The people seemed to be in the major towns, where there were crowds of people clamouring for help as they surrounded our vehicles.
Bríd, on her way home from work at the clinic
Martina Hamilton rsm had been there for a few weeks before us, so it was great to meet her. I had trained with Martina in the Mater hospital in Belfast and we had also worked together in Mutomo Hospital, Kenya in the seventies. The UN tankers were driving around the place, so we didn’t sleep much that night, as all was a bit daunting for us.
Next morning we left for a clinic in Cyanika, about five miles away; this was run by the Medical Missionaries of Mary. Here we found very many seriously sick people. At first they stood in silence, many having lost some of their loved ones during the war. We treated the sick and those suffering from various diseases, i.e. malaria, chest infections, gash wounds, ulcers etc. There were two Irish nurses on the team. They went to Kigali to locate families of orphaned children, so their accommodation was vacant, and Lorraine and I took up residence there. A few days passed and we were happy enough until one night a lot of people evacuated from the village because of clashes and feared for their lives. We felt very vulnerable and I requested we have a man in our house. Two men moved in with us and I felt happier because if we had to evacuate we would have a male driver. We were advised to carry our passports at all times.
Some patients waiting outside the clinic
As time passed, things were slowly coming back to normal and a clinic was opened in Nyamagabi. Lorraine and I were transferred there. I relieved Sr. Josephine Keane MMM in the Maternity unit. She was allowed to go on leave, having been there for six months’ constant work. On my first morning there, I assisted a mother who was in labour, even though I had left Mutomo midwifery training school in May 1983. We managed fine and delivered a fine healthy baby. The Sister doctor and another MMM came to check on things and, when all was in order, we were left to get on with the job; they were satisfied that I knew what I was about. The clinics continued and we restarted the maternal and child health services. The local health staff were very helpful and helped us in treating the sick.
At the camp in Cyanika
There were hundreds waiting for us every day. One day an elderly lady arrived, she was suffering from gastroenteritis. I felt she was severely malnourished and needed food. Those of us with Trócaire were strictly medical so I was in a bit of a dilemma. That evening I met one of the logisticians and told him of the case, he said ‘you and I will go to Kigali and get some food’. We set off in a pick-up truck early in the morning and travelled 90 kilometres till we reached one of the large food stores. My eyes feasted on bags and bags of sorghum, porridge oats and maize. We brought three sacks of each of above and also bought a cylinder of gas, some cheese and a few other items; so we were fortified.
The first thing I did on returning was to give each of the fifteen members of staff some food for themselves. It was wonderful to see the delight in their eyes. I then locked the food in a store and, when some really deserving patients came, I prudently gave them a little food. Needless to say it didn’t last long.
Bríd and two more of the Team, outside their house in Gikongoro
Another episode that is stuck in my mind happened when I was working in Cyanika clinic. One day, an elderly woman came to the maternal and child health clinic. She had a small sick baby in her arms and a bundle on her back, which happened to be a dead baby, and by her side a seven year old child. I shall never forget the face of that wee child, her sad little face showed utter desolation. She knew that there was something wrong. I learned from the interpreter that her mother had died. I did what I could for them and gave them some food. Even after twenty years, it is hard for me to write about this.
Some people waiting in the clinic
One of the days in Nyamagabi clinic where Lorraine and I worked, there were huge crowds of mothers and children. A UN soldier, an Englishman, came to me and asked in the midst of the mêlée if I would like a cup of tea, but I refused as we were far too busy. He then asked if I would like some cake. I found out it was a cake in a tin, clean and safe. I never saw the likes before so I graciously accepted the tin of cake. I hid it to carry back to our house where we could enjoy it in peace. We used to have medical meetings every week where we were updated on any progress or otherwise on the political state of Rwanda. We met medical personnel from other agencies in the area. Here again, we were treated to cake and tea by the army doctor.
I was due to leave in early December. I had mixed feelings as we had become very close as a group and worked well with our Rwandan colleagues. I stayed for a few days in the Trócaire house in Kigali while waiting for a flight to Nairobi; eventually I got away on an army plane. There were eighteen people on board and hardly a word was spoken until we neared Nairobi. I was met at the airport by Trócaire personnel and our own Mercy sisters. I then spent ten days in Mutomo where I had worked from 1966 – 1983. I was one of the many Mercy Sisters to answer the cry from Rwanda at this time.
Bríd McLoughlin rsm
Western Province
