Alphonsine's incredible story of survival and resilience

Alphonsine Kabagabo

“Sometimes I still feel guilty that I escaped. But I do feel like I was saved for a reason.”

Alphonsine Kabagabo, who has joined our board of trustees, is a shining example of the power of resilience after extreme trauma. She was born in 1962 in the African country of Rwanda, where there was tension between the two main ethnic groups, the Tutsi and the Hutu.

She explained. “I was aware that I was in a minority as a Tutsi. School was not accessible for many of us. Thank God I had a wonderful dad who had connections; he was able to fight for me to go to school and later get a job as a teacher.”

She added: “I come from a big family of eight sisters and five brothers; most of them had left the country in the 1970s because of the discrimination. For example, if you went for a job interview and they saw on your identity card that you were Tutsi, you were not guaranteed to get the job even if you were the best candidate.”

In 1990, Tutsis who had fled the country years before formed the Rwandan Patriotic Front and invaded their homeland, fighting for their right to be back in their country of origin. But it was in 1994 when the division reached its devastating climax.

The catalyst of the genocide

On April 7, the plane of Hutu president Juvénal Habyarimana was shot down, killing him along with fellow Hutu politician Cyprien Ntaryamira of Burundi. With the Hutus blaming the Tutsis for the murders, the event became the catalyst for what has become known as the Rwandan genocide against the Tutsi. Indeed, over 800,000 Tutsis and moderate Hutus were killed in a little over three months.

At the time, Alphonsine was a secondary school teacher and a new mum to six-month-old Ornella, whom she’d taken to live with her parents in the hope of keeping them both safe. “When the president was killed, we knew we would be killed too,” she said.

“My parents lived close to a church where we could hide if we needed to. In the house were my parents, my sister, her two children and a few cousins. The killers started going from house to house; when they came to ours, my dad tried to negotiate with them. He gave them money and they went away.

“We knew they’d come back so we went to hide in the church; it was only a minute away but crossing the road to get there was so scary. The only thing I had been able to grab was a bottle of milk for my daughter; other than that, I just had the clothes I was wearing.

“Some of us later hid in a small house next to the church. We were there for a week. The priest would bring us some milk for the children and sometimes rice for us. We’d give the babies medicine so they would sleep and the killers wouldn’t hear them crying.”

Sanctuary in Belgium

Thankfully, Alphonsine’s brother-in-law Guy, a soldier in the Belgian army, had been able to locate the family’s hiding place and came to their rescue. She said: “I was so relieved but felt guilty about the ones we’d left behind as some of them were killed.”

Alphonsine and eight of her family members were taken in a military tank to Kigali airport, from where they took an army plane to Kenya. “Even on the flight, we were scared that they would shoot down the plane,” said Alphonsine. “We were so relieved when we got to Nairobi.”

Alphonsine and her family were later taken to Belgium where they were given refugee status. “We were lucky as two of my sisters lived there, so they welcomed us and gave us some clothes,” said Alphonsine. “I was also privileged to have been a girl guide in Rwanda, and a lot of girl guides from Belgium helped us to settle in.

“Because everyone knew what was happening in Rwanda, it was quite easy for us to get asylum; I know now that it’s harder if there isn’t a war on.”

The after-effects

She added: “Becoming a refugee affected my self-esteem. I’d been a very active person in Rwanda and didn’t want to be on benefits. So the first year in Belgium was really hard. My biggest problem was not being able to sleep, and I’d get flashbacks of being in the church if I was in a crowd. I’d think people were carrying machetes.

“I also became a hypochondriac and kept going to the doctor for different things. He told me I was traumatised and suggested I have therapy. I’d never even heard of it, and didn’t understand why I would speak to a stranger about what had happened. But he connected me with an organisation that helped refugees which was really good for me.”

Alphonsine struggled to find meaningful work in Belgium, but her fortune changed when a Girl Guide friend told her about a job vacancy for the World Association of Girl Guides and Girl Scouts. “Everything in my life in Rwanda was about being a girl guide,” she said. “They were looking for someone to be director of the Africa region, based in London. Everyone said I had to apply for it, even though I didn’t even speak English at the time! It was such a fantastic opportunity with an organisation that I loved with all my heart, so I applied and got the job.”

The mother-of-one flourished in her role with the Girl Guides, staying with the organisation for almost 22 years. Her position saw her lead projects across Africa, helping to influence policy on issues such as child marriage, HIV prevention and reproductive health. With some of these projects taking place in Rwanda, Alphonsine says she was able to assuage some of her survivor’s guilt at escaping the genocide. “Sometimes I still feel guilty,” she said. “But helping girls in Rwanda gave me a purpose and made me feel like I was saved for a reason. I’m so glad I was able to give back to the community.”

She added: “I’m very impressed with the progress Rwanda has made in terms of its economic and social development. It’s a miracle country and an example to the whole of Africa.”

Alphonsine has since taken a role as director at Women for Refugee Women, a charity which empowers women seeking asylum to tell their own stories and advocate for a fairer asylum process. And with her own experience, she’s sure to be a guiding light for those who have gone through trauma, both at WRW and in her role as a TTI trustee.

“The main piece of advice I would give is to make sure you find support,” she said. “Don’t think about the misery every day. Build a community and be with people who make you feel good, and make you feel valid.”