Wereje Benson Murihira
Caution Graphic Material
Benson's Biography as told to Jeanne – part 2
(edited by George)
When I crossed the boarder to Uganda, I faced hunger and starvation and some young boys like me started to die from this. In the transit camp there were no organizations to help, but they did come after some time. People starved to death, while others were killed by cholera. I used to go to nearby villages to carry heavy stones for construction and we were paid only with food. After eating we used to go back to the camp where we had to pass the night outside and it was the rainy season.
I remembered that at home we had food, so we planned to go back to the Congo on the border 15 miles from the camp in Kisoro district. We went during the night so that we could collect food and return at night, we believed that the rebels would not get us. It was very dangerous but we had no choice.
It's very sad to be called a refugee. It's a bad name but, for us Christians, we know that even Jesus once was a refugee in Egypt. We traveled the whole night and reached the border very late. We did not know the time because we had no watches.
We tried to collect food from the grainary (Irish potatoes). We realized that morning had come, but we still had to return several miles to cross the border. We were seven boys and I was the one in the store putting food in the sac and giving it to those who were outside.
Rebels nearby realized that some people were there and, hearing our lowered voices, they decided to come and investigate. When we saw them, the 6 boys who were outside ran in a house which was open because all the doors had been broken by bombs. I stayed in the store and they followed the young boys. There was an incredible movement in and out of the house. When the rebels would go in to look for them, the boys would go out. When the rebels went outside, the boys would run inside the house. This continued for more than 15 minutes.
A thought came to my mind — if they came and checked the store, what would happen? I decided to wait and join the group of my friends when they were running outside. They were in and out of the house, refusing to run away because the rebels could shoot them as they were running and they were not faster than bullets. Maybe they also delayed so that I could join them; all was God's plan. I joined the group and told the boys to go in different directions because there were only two rebels. We had no idea that one was standing by one door while the other waited and shot from the next door.
Finally, we went in different directions. Bullets and grounets were heard all over the place and 5 of my colleagues died there. We managed to cross the border into Uganda, but with empty hands (no food).
Another time, as we were escaping, heading to Uganda, we reached a place taken by rebels. Everybody had to repeat some words so that they could identify people to be killed. I was in the group which was to be killed. Two groups were separated, those to be killed and those not to be. More than 50 of us were to be slaughtered and everybody was praying for the last time. Others' tears were dry and they cried without shedding tears. Old women viewed the torture and some were half dead before they were touched.
Methods used to kill:
- By hammering the head — one would die silently
- By burning with fire from old car tires — painful
- By doing what they called Chai (tea) — 50 canes across the stomach, 50 on the back and 50 on either side on the ribs. Here the person would cry as they continued. He would reduce his voice until quiet.
- Beheading and putting a sharp dry bamboo tree through the lower parts, coming out from the head or the shoulder — known as Muchom (roasting the meat)
- Other things like defilement, raping, pounding banied were my entertainment at that time.
Finally, ten of us remained with hands tied. I ran away because I was not able to continue seeing this, waiting for my turn. I had to run so that I would be shot at least. Of course others ran away and they started shooting them one by one. Someone who followed me was shot and he fell down and caused me to fall because I was shot also. Some bullets burned my jackets and this person's blood was spread on my clothes because we were together on the ground. When I tried to touch my jackets my hands were filled with blood. I realized that I was shot and due to fear and waiting for death I hardly breathed.
Rebels came to check us and hurt me with their shoes while talking. One of them said that we may not all be dead and wanted to shoot us again, but his friend stopped him and said we were all dead.
They left. For some good hours, I waited for death, but it did not happen. I tried to lift my head, taking some steps forward. I checked the dead bodies and found one woman who was still alive but in bad shape. After realizing that I was okay, I carried her to the border and called for help. She was taken to the hospital and she is still alive in the camp but cannot work because she was cut in various places.
I am thankful that I am still alive. In my house I will continue to serve the loving God. This is why I will serve the community — I know how much they suffered. (updated 02-07)