Ep 313: Echoes of the Past with Zachary Graulich and guest Consolee Nishimwe on hmTv

Echoes of the Past – Episode 313 

Guest: Consolee Nishimwe
Host: Zachary Graulich
Produced by: Holocaust Memorial & Tolerance Center of Nassau County (hmTv)

In this powerful episode of Echoes of the Past, host Zachary Graulich sits down with Consolee Nishimwe, a survivor of the 1994 genocide against the Tutsi in Rwanda.

At just 14 years old, Consolee’s life was forever changed as her family faced unthinkable violence, loss, and displacement. In this first part of her story, she shares memories of her joyful childhood in Rwanda, the growing signs of discrimination that preceded the genocide, and the harrowing first days after the violence began.

Through her courage and faith, Consolee offers not only testimony of survival but also a message of love, resilience, and the importance of remembering humanity in the face of hatred.

“Even when everything was taken away, my mother reminded us: pray. Keep your faith.”

Tune in for an intimate, moving conversation that honors the memory of those lost and reminds us of the enduring strength of the human spirit.

🕊️ Content Warning: This episode contains descriptions of violence and loss related to genocide, which may be distressing for some listeners.

Transcript

Echoes of the Past – Episode 313: “Echoes of the Past” with Consolee Nishimwe 

Produced by hmTv / Holocaust Memorial & Tolerance Center of Nassau County
Host: Zachary Graulich
Guest: Consolee Nishimwe
Aired: [Date not specified]

Zachary Graulich:
Hello, and welcome to another episode of Echoes of the Past.
I’m your host today, Zachary Graulich, Assistant Director of Education here at the HMTC.
And I have the absolute privilege of sitting down today with Consolee Nishimwe.

Consolee is a survivor of the 1994 genocide against the Tutsi in Rwanda.
 This is a really special conversation, and I can’t thank you enough for being here today, Consolee.

Consolee Nishimwe:
Thank you very much for having me. It’s a pleasure.

Zachary:
Absolutely.
I’d love to start by talking about your life before the genocide.
You were just a young girl when everything happened, but you’ve spoken about having powerful, happy memories from your childhood.
Can you tell us about that time in your life?

Consolee:
Yes, thank you.
I feel very fortunate that I have memories of growing up before 1994.
The genocide started when I was 14 years old, so I had a life before then — with my parents, my siblings, my family.

My parents were teachers, and I was the oldest of four children.
 My sister was 11, my two younger brothers were 9 and 7, and my baby brother was just 16 months old.
 We were a beautiful family. My parents made sure we felt loved.

I remember going to school, visiting my grandparents and cousins during holidays, and doing the small, simple things — going to church, playing with friends, spending time together.
 Those moments made life feel normal and happy.
 My parents were very affectionate, and our home was full of love.

Zachary:
And what kind of values did your parents instill in you? What traits do you carry from them today?

Consolee:
The most important thing they taught me was love.
My parents loved each other deeply, and they taught us to love people — to be kind, to have good manners, to respect others, to appreciate life and the little things.

They also taught us to have faith.
 We prayed together as a family, and they taught us to care for one another.
 Those lessons have shaped who I am today.

Zachary:
For listeners who may not be familiar with Rwanda’s history, it’s important to understand that, at the time, the country was home to several ethnic groups:
the Hutu, who made up the majority; the Tutsi, which was your family; and the Twa, a small minority group.

Could you talk about what it was like to live in Rwanda as a Tutsi before the genocide?

Consolee:
It was not easy. Even before I was born, Tutsis were persecuted.
Many lived in exile because of killings and discrimination.

Those who remained, like my family, faced daily challenges — restrictions on education and work, discrimination in schools, humiliation.
 As a child, I didn’t fully understand it, but by the time I reached junior high, I realized how hard it was.

I was bullied in school for being Tutsi.
 Our home was sometimes searched. I remember soldiers or officials coming, and I could see how it hurt my father.
 They wanted us to feel less than human.

Later, I began hearing the propaganda — the radio calling us “cockroaches,” “snakes.”
 It was frightening, but I never imagined it would lead to genocide.

Zachary:
That’s such an important point — genocide doesn’t happen overnight.
It’s a gradual process: words, discrimination, dehumanization — each step building toward violence.

And that brings us to April 6th, 1994, when the president’s plane was shot down.
 Can you tell us what you remember from that day?

Consolee:
Like everyone else, we were shocked. We didn’t know what would happen next.
But the propaganda had already spread everywhere.

The Hutu majority had been taught to hate us for years.
 When the president’s plane went down, the radio immediately blamed the Tutsi — saying, “Tutsis everywhere must be killed.”

People already had machetes and clubs. The genocide began almost instantly.

I remember listening to the radio with my family.
 I could see fear in my parents’ eyes. People in Kigali — those already on government lists — were being murdered.

We ran. We left everything behind, moving from house to house, hiding in the bushes, praying not to be found.
 Some Hutu neighbors risked their own lives to shelter us, but many others betrayed Tutsi families.

That was the beginning of everything changing.

Zachary:
To hear those words — “All Tutsis must die” — over the radio, surrounded by fear, must have been terrifying.
And then to spend the next three months on the run, never knowing if the person who opened their door would help you or kill you — I can’t imagine that.

How did you get through those dark days?

Consolee:
Prayer.
That’s what my mother reminded us every day. Pray — even if you don’t know what will happen next.

We prayed constantly.
 As a Christian, I believed that even if I died, I would be with God.
 That faith gave me strength when there was nothing else to hold on to.

Zachary:
Did you feel a sense of responsibility as the oldest child — to be strong for your siblings and your mother?

Consolee:
Yes, absolutely.
Even though I was still a child myself, I felt I had to protect my younger siblings.

My mother was our pillar. She was strong for all of us, even after my father was murdered.
 During the genocide, it was just me, my mother, and my sister for a long time — after my brothers were killed.

There were many times I felt hopeless, but somehow, our love for each other gave us strength to keep going.

Zachary:
You mentioned your father and your siblings were tragically killed.
Would you be willing to share what happened to them?

Consolee:
Yes.
During the genocide, we sought refuge in the homes of people we knew — Hutu neighbors or friends.
But you never knew who you could trust.

One family took us in — my parents, my siblings, my aunt, all of us together.
 But soon after, we had to flee again.

I’ll never forget the last image of my father.
 We were hiding in the bushes, surrounded by killers shouting that they were going to “exterminate the cockroaches.”

My father was my best friend.
 Seeing him so powerless, unable to protect us — that image never leaves my mind.

My mother kept whispering, “Pray. Keep praying.”
 When the killers came back and followed my father…

[audio fades / segment ends – Part 1 concludes]

[End of Episode 313 – Part 1]

🎧 To be continued in Part 2 of “Echoes of the Past” with Consolee Nishimwe.