Children Of War.(in Rwanda)(Personal account)(Photograph)

Byline: Jonathan Torgovnik

It's been more than a decade now since the Rwandan genocide. The country is rebuilding. But one generation stands apart. These children, thought to number some 20,000, are the sweet crop borne of a bitter harvest. Their mothers were all raped and impregnated during the war. Many contracted HIV in the process. But they survived, and bore children: innocents who symbolize a terrible ordeal. Their mothers remain deeply traumatized, yet in a country that's now 70 percent female, they and their children also represent its hope for the future. Photographer Jonathan Torgovnik traveled to Rwanda to photograph these victims and to listen to their stories. With another genocide now underway in Darfur, Torgovnik argues that memorializing past crimes is vital--to help prevent such atrocities from happening again. Of course, we have heard such warnings before, but that's all the more reason to tell the story again, in a new way. Josianne Ruyange and her son Vedaste I am 27 years old. Genocide started when I was 15. I was raped and, as a result, I got pregnant and have a baby boy. I don't hate my son. I don't love him, either, but I think I am comfortable staying with him. I fail in my duty as a mother because of poverty. I sometimes look at my situation and compare myself with those people that have their families around them, and I regret [that] I did not die in the genocide. Anastasie Mukarutabana and her son Theogene: He told the militias they [could] do what they want to reduce my height because I [was] always so arrogant. So they got clubs and hit my legs. Now I am alone with my son. I am supposed to feed my son, to take him to school, to dress him and myself, yet I am physically handicapped. Whenever I think about his tomorrow, I don't know. If there is anything that tortures me, it is the tomorrow of my son. Annasalie Mukabayizera and her son Prince Rwangabo: After six months, I thought I was probably pregnant. This is when I started wishing to die. I thought of committing suicide. Then I felt I should give birth to that child and kill it. But when I gave birth, the kid was so beautiful that I developed love immediately. So I said, I can't kill him. Later I found [we were] HIV-positive. Nothing bad exists in the world that we did not go through. Claudin Mukakalisa and her son Jeandediue: I must be honest with you. I never loved this child. I remembered what his father did to me, I thought that the only revenge would be to kill his son. I never did that. I'm lucky I didn't. I forced myself to like him, but he is unlikable--the boy is too stubborn, too bad, he behaves like a street child. He leaves this place in the morning, he comes back at night. Verena Uwingabira and her daughter Josile: I cannot tell you how many men came to rape me. All I saw was, four months later I was pregnant. I felt so bad I tried committing suicide twice. But deep in me a voice said, "You don't know why you stayed alive. You must have stayed alive for a reason." So I gathered courage. The good news is that the kid I produced, she looked like me, and that was my source of happiness. Aline Uwimbabazi and her daughter Deborah: I gave birth, but to be honest I didn't love this child. It was a problem all the way through. My sister's child died, but me, mine was alive. Later I was also told I have HIV. My sister and mother also have HIV. Today I have a challenge. I am a mother but unwilling to be a mother. I don't love this child. Whenever I look at [her], I trigger memories of rape. I try my best. I understand she is innocent. I try to love her, but I fail. Claudine Mukamurenzi and her son Claude: The world neglected us when we were ...