My name is KEZA* and I am 25 years old. I was born in southern Rwanda, where I lived with my family until I was 13. I spent those early years growing up with eleven brothers and sisters and we loved each other very much. We were each other’s closest friends, playmates and teachers. When I was young I had big dreams for my life. I wanted to become an educated business owner. Even though school was difficult for me, I really enjoyed learning and was driven by my dreams to succeed.But life was hard...my father was abusive, often coming home drunk and beating my mother. Mother was a strong woman, and in the end courageously left my father in order to protect herself and her children. My father refused to support us, and so my mother was left to support 12 children on her own. I remained in school for two years after their separation, but had to stop at age 12 because my mother could no longer afford to pay my school fees. I was so sad that I couldn’t continue going to school, it was as if my hopes and dreams were slipping through my fingers, becoming impossible to hold.
I worked at home for a little while, helping around the house. But I was becoming a burden to my Mother. At 13 I left to go and live with my eldest sister in Kigali, the capital city of Rwanda. She was working and my family believed she could take better care of me. I was happy to be there with her, she was someone I admired and loved. Sadly I was soon seen as a burden to her as well, and after only one year, I left. Since then I’ve been moving from one home to another.
Later that year the genocide began. I am from the targeted tribe and was forced to flee to a local stadium and hide. It was there I was told that my family members had been murdered, including my oldest sister. I couldn’t understand how something like this could happen.
The loss of my family weighed heavily, but I tried my best not to lose all hope and I hung on as best I could to my slippery hopes and dreams. After the genocide I lived with friends I had met during our period of hiding at the stadium, and found work where I could.
I was 15 years old when I was betrayed by a friend and raped for the first time. Sadly, this kind of thing is a common occurrence. His status in society meant that there was nothing I could do, no one I could tell. Two months later I was raped a second time. I became angry, bitter, and scared, never escaping the memories of what had been done to me.
I folded into my own solitude, feeling it was the only safe place.
With little hope and fewer opportunities I was forced to sell my body on the streets. I knew of no other way to survive. I had become one of the forgotten in Rwanda.
When I was approached by Pastor Joseph, I trusted no one. Everyone in my life had let me down. Yet this man seemed different and I held onto the glimmer of hope he offered. Two years later I am still holding onto to that hope and I am no longer working as a prostitute. Pastor Joseph started Sisters of Rwanda with Jared in order to help us. We didn’t know why they wanted to help us, or if they really would. But Pastor is different, he really does want to help us have a better life. Sisters of Rwanda is teaching me skills that will free me of the life I was stuck in and give me new opportunities. I now understand only God can profoundly change a person. I believe it is necessary for the Church to reach out to these women, teaching them about God and encouraging them, but it doesn’t stop there. Our spiritual needs are crucial, but we also need to survive, we need opportunities to learn and make money without selling our bodies. We are all chasing the best life possible and in order to achieve that each and every one of us requires money. No-one is an exception to this rule. I plead with the world to understand the plight of these women of which I used to be one.
Finally it seems that my dreams aren’t so slippery. I dream of having a good life with my children. I dream of being able to live without having to beg or sell my body on the streets. I dream my children will stay in school and have a much better life than I did. I dream they will grow up feeling happy. I do not know where the future will lead us, but I will hold onto these dreams I have.
*To protect the identities of the women we serve, the names of our beneficiaries have been changed to KEZA, which means beautiful.
