A national champion runner as a high school student in the African nation of Burundi, Gilbert Tuhabonye had begun to envision a life that perhaps would include immigration to the United States and a berth in the Olympic Games. However, those dreams took a horrific turn in 1993, when, as part of a civil war between the native Hutu and Tutsi tribes, Tuhabonye and his fellow students were captured by Hutu soldiers. According to Tuhabonye, hundreds were killed. Somehow, he was the lone survivor. Eventually making it to the U.S., Tuhabonye has begun to dream anew. A resident of Austin, Texas, the 31-year-old coaches hundreds of youths while continuing to train for what he hopes will be a chance at the Games. Coming to Denver this week to race in the Rocky Mountain Half-Marathon, Tuhabonye, the author of “This Voice in My Heart,” took a few moments to chat.
Anthony Cotton: What does running mean to you?
Gilbert Tuhabonye: For me, running is my life. It’s my freedom, my passion, my therapy. I started running when I was young, and I loved it right away. Now I want to teach other people to enjoy it.
AC: How did you come up with the title for your book?
GT: It came from the fire, when everybody was burning and dying. I was waiting for my turn when I heard this voice. It was very strong, telling me nothing would happen to me. It gave me reassurance and hope that nothing would happen. And when I decided to write the book there could be no other title, because the voice still talks to me.
AC: Before the massacre happened, you were sent to a school about 150 miles away from your home. At the time, you had dreams of coming to America. Did you think that school would be the first step in making those dreams come true?
GT: I didn’t have a choice about going to the school – I was sent there. I had a goal when I was young of being in the Olympics, of running in the NCAAs in the United States. I had a friend who was running for Nebraska. That kind of motivated me. It was pretty cool. We didn’t have an idea of being able to do something like that.
AC: But things obviously turned horrific.
GT: Yes. The day was terrible, terrible. The thing is I didn’t sleep the whole night before. It was like there was a warning but I didn’t know what was going on. I was uncomfortable. Every time I tried to sleep I’d remember formulas – the next day I had biology and chemistry, which were the toughest classes. I thought I had studied too much because I couldn’t sleep.
At 5 in the morning, I turned on the radio and it didn’t work. I put in a new battery and it didn’t work. So when there wasn’t a signal, I knew there was something going on, that there had been a coup d’état. I tried to ignore it. I told myself there may just be electricity problems.
AC: But there wasn’t.
GT: I went to the school but nobody showed up. Maybe after about an hour, one by one, people started coming but nobody was talking to each other. Everyone was focusing on their studies. Around 7 we heard about the coup d’état. The teachers didn’t show up for classes, but soon one of them came running by because they were taking them away to be burned. That’s when we knew the day would be very hard for us.
We looked outside, and there were just so many people. They had knocked down trees to block the street so cars couldn’t move. We tried to organize an escape, but we were stopped about 2 miles from the school.
When we were stopped, one guy told me I would have to have a special torture. One by one we were sent to the fire. They’d take our clothes. Then they’d cut legs and arms and fingers. But before you’d go inside, someone would beat you on the head, to paralyze you so you couldn’t scream or do anything. But they didn’t get a chance to hit me. I jumped away from them into the building.
AC: This is terrible.
GT: I spent eight hours in the building, covered with bodies so I wouldn’t get burned. That’s when I heard the voice. For eight hours I had wanted to die. I wanted to kill myself. I wanted to jump outside, but if I did I knew I would be killed. But the voice told me what to do. I jumped outside. They didn’t see me at first, so I started running, but there was a fire on my school bag, so I was burned terribly. But I ended up at a hospital.
AC: How hard is it to talk about all of this now?
GT: It’s very difficult because it’s bringing back memories that I had tried to forget. I knew I would have to do it because of the book, I knew I would have to do this. It’s kind of hard. I wasn’t thinking about this stuff anymore, but it’s great that people get to know about this. They need to learn about what happened. Now the focus is on Rwanda, but people are still killing each other in Burundi, and if we don’t bring it to people’s attention, how will they know that it goes on? How will there be peace?
AC: Is it true that a couple of years later you came upon one of the soldiers from the massacre and he asked you to kill him because of what he had done?
GT: It was a civilian who owned a lot of shops, like convenience stores. He was very involved in the killings, taking people into the building. I met him two years later. He saw me first and he just collapsed before me, but I let him go. To me, letting someone go who’d tried to kill me was the best thing that happened in my life. It took a lot of pressure out of me. That was how forgiveness started.
AC: How often have you been back to Burundi? I would think it must be hard.
GT: I can’t go back. I don’t think they like what I’m doing now. I don’t think it would be safe for me to go back, to try to live there. I tried to go back in 1999; I stayed for 10 days. I didn’t have anywhere to go to run. If you went two blocks away from where I was you could get killed. That’s not my life. I enjoy running. I used to run from city to city because it was what I loved. Now I couldn’t do that. When I was there, I was in hiding. I would alternate houses so no one would come and kill me. That’s when I decided to come back to the U.S. and apply for political asylum.
AC: But you’re training for the Olympics – would you represent Burundi?
GT: That’s a hard question. I’m not a U.S. citizen yet. I would love to go to the trials for the U.S. This is the country that helped me, the country that provided me with an opportunity. I would love to run for the U.S., but some people think it would be a benefit to run for Burundi. I don’t know. I just want to run in the Olympics
AC: Would running for Burundi be a way to change things there?
GT: Either way. I think sport is something that can change things in Burundi. It would make a big statement for me to run in the Olympic trials for the U.S. People would know what I’ve gone through. It would be a big deal. I coach about 500 people, and I use it as a ministry. I share my story. When you’re at the top, running in the Olympics, there’s even more interest. It would be a very big statement.
Anthony Cotton can be reached at 303-820-1292 or acotton@denverpost.com.