Hello, My name is Buhoro

My name is Buhoro, and I am a 35 years old mother of three.  One day I was cultivating kasava with my twelve year old son and four year old daughter. I remember hearing people running and screaming. I knew what was coming was either death, or rape. I wanted to run to save my life, but I feared for my children. I told my children to hide in the bush, and I ran.


Five soldiers followed me, they caught me, ripped off my clothes, and raped me one by one, taking turns. I could not cry because I did not want my children to hear my voice, as that could endanger their lives. After they finished, they left me for dead. I was bleeding and could not move. I laid in the bushes until my children found me. They covered me, and went to call our neighbor for help. I was taken to a nearby hospital, but because I had no money, I could not be treated. 


I was bleeding for three years until last May when one of my friends introduced me to Congo Tusaidiane. They paid my hospital bills and help me understand that what happened does not define me. I lived my days on Earth thinking I would soon die from the wound and no one will be left to take care of my children.  My husband had abandoned us, and my family members and friends now point fingers every time they see me. I am now physically healed and have learned to sew. With the money I earn, I will be able to feed my children and pay for their school fees. May God bless Tusaidiane day and night.