Fiacre was 4 years old when he was killed, with his sister Fidéline, in the middle of a village in Rwanda. The two children screamed all night in agony, before being killed by a man from the village in the early morning. All the villagers who are still here remember this. Of this family, which is one of the 800,000 deaths of the Tutsi genocide committed in 1994, there is nothing left, not a photo, not a board of a house, not a memory, the genocidaires having wanted to erase all traces of their existence .
Belgian director Bernard Bellefroid went looking for these ghosts. With his film One of the thousand hills, it gives a history, an identity to this family of five missing, the father, the mother and the three children, in the name of all the others. He films the gacaca, or local courts, who tried to elucidate these murders by opposing neighbors, almost brothers. He measures the scale of the task of reconciliation through a father whose children were killed by a neighbor, buried alive, before being devoured by dogs. This father agrees to forgive his children’s tormentor, because it is the only way to overcome this ordeal. By focusing the camera on the victims, but also on the genocidaires, the film reveals the painful limits of reconciliation, but also its exploits.
One of the thousand hills is part of the programming of the Vues d’Afrique festival, which celebrates its 40th anniversary this year. The entire day of April 13 will be dedicated to commemorating the Rwandan genocide. Organized in collaboration with Page Rwanda (Association of parents and friends of victims of the genocide against the Tutsis in Rwanda), it includes the screening of three films and a discussion with the directors.
The power of a song
Among these hallucinatory stories of violence, destruction, suffering, amid screams and bloodshed, we find, against all expectations, the Quebec country singer Patrick Norman and his famous hit from the 1980s When we are in love.
Very well known in Rwanda in 1994, this simple song served as a beacon and comfort during the genocide, helping Tutsis to hold on during their most atrocious hours. This is what the film is about Patrick Norman in Rwanda. Memory duty, also screened as part of the festival.
It all started when a woman approached Patrick Norman one day to tell him that this song had made her feel good at a time when her entire family was being murdered. “This woman told me that she sang the song over and over in her head, hidden, while her family was being massacred,” says the singer, now in his seventies.
Upset by this declaration, Patrick Norman decides to go to Rwanda. It’s a trip that will change his life. The film, directed by Charles Domingue, recounts this visit, while going back to the 1994 genocide.
With its astonishing premise, this film provides an account of the genocide through numerous interviews. Accompanied by his girlfriend and his guitar, Norman tours the villages, and his song often brings tears to the eyes of those who listen to it. We then understand that, when we have lost everything, the notes of music, the simple words of hope, find their purpose.
“If one day you feel that in your life nothing belongs to you anymore / In bohemian life, you wander in the night, soothing your sorrow / Remember that there is always someone just waiting for your hand / Open your heart wide, don’t look elsewhere, listen to what he tells you / Don’t miss the chance to be loved / The heart becomes less heavy / when you are in love. With this song, co-written in 1984 with Robert Laurin, Patrick Norman surely didn’t think he was saying it so well. While visiting Rwanda with his partner, he measured the extent of the consequences of the genocide, “reaching its limits” when he visited the Rwanda Genocide Memorial in Kigali, particularly the room paying tribute to the child victims. Faced with this unspeakable massacre, the film requires us to reflect on the power of music and song.
The directors of the film will also participate in the discussion. Afterwards, Amélie Mutarabayire Schafer and Susan Solomon. The film explores the persistence of trauma with both victims of the Tutsi genocide in Rwanda and victims of the Holocaust. It will also be screened during the day.
To see at the Vues d’Afrique festival