My Mother, My Hero

We had to walk and walk the whole night. Mind you, that my mom was pregnant with a huge stomach but nothing would have stopped her.

Author: Zwena Bachoo

The year was 1996, in our house located in a neighborhood called Industriel in Bukavu, a city in the eastern democratic republic of Congo.

I was about 4 years old, and had three siblings at that time.

It was a normal morning where we had to do what other kids do, get ready, and go to school.

Later in that same morning we heard the sound of gunshots and the next thing we knew people were running around and my mom had already reach to our school minutes later after hearing the gunshots, she grabbed us and took us back home.

At that time, we were studying not too far from home. We were only three, my young brother who was the last one at that time, was really young and he was home with my aunt.

Growing up in Bukavu, we were used to the sounds shotguns and at a young age, we were taught that every time we hear the sound of gunshots, we have to lay down and scrawl so that we don't get shot.

Now after reaching home from school, my mom took us all and placed us in the corridor to protect us from bullets that were being shot.

I remember, my siblings and I  asked our mom if it was going to end soon but she said she didn't know. 

Just to give you small details of my family at that time, my dad was working far away from where we were staying, I don't recall much of the place.

We never used to see him that much and when all this took place we were only with my mother who was 8 months pregnant at that time.

We were with another lady that we would call aunt but was not really related to us, there was my older brother who was probably 7 years at that time., my older sister who was 5 years, I was 4 years old and my younger brother who was two years old at that time.

Going back to the story, that day we spent the whole day in the corridor because my mother heard people saying that people called "Mayi Mayi" had entered the city and they are killing people.

Hearing that, my mother could not wait until they get to us, so she packed a few things for us all and we left the house later at night.

We had to walk and walk the whole night trying to find a safe place where we could hide from.

I remember my mom had to carry my young brother and had to hold my old sister's hand and mind you, that my mom was pregnant with a huge stomach but nothing would have stopped her. The other lady carried me and held my older brother's hand.

We finally arrived at a relative's place where we stayed for a few nights.

However, we still had to continue the road, on the way to God knows where my mom was taking us. They had told her that my dad was probably dead somewhere. 

Hurt and all after hearing this sad news, she knew she had only us left so she had to make sure we were safe.

On our journey to Rwanda, we found ourselves living in a refugee camp, I don't recall for how long but it was long enough for us all to start falling ill.

My mother didn't stop until she found a way to bring us safe and sound to a small town called Rwamagana in the eastern province of Rwanda.

Unfortunately, by the time we reached there, she was told that her father had just passed away.

January 1st, my mom gave birth to my younger brother, she named the baby after her father and at the same time, my dad finally appeared.

He was never dead, he only got lost looking for us and he had no other place to look at nor to pass at because the War in Bukavu was still taking place.

My family reunited again and we left Rwanda to go stay in Burundi next to my father's father.

Writing all this down surely brought so much painful memories and also makes me realized that not only did my mother gave birth to me but she also saved mine and my sibling's lives. She is my super Hero and I owe my whole life to her.