Rwanda, Where Souls Turn to Dust: My Journey from Exile to Legacy

The author, Um'Khonde Patrick Habamenshi, was appointed Minister of Agriculture in Rwanda in October 2003, two days after his thirty-fifth birthday. It started as a dream but rapidly became a nightmare marked by constant threats, insults, and unfounded accusations. He resigned in May 2005 and sought refuge in the Canadian Embassy in Kigali. The following year was a slow downward spiral to the same hell that decimated Rwanda in 1994, a hell of injustice and senseless persecution.

The experience left him broken beyond words. He was left with the demons and ghosts of his broken country and with tortured experiences that would surely destroy him if he succumbed to them.

Rwanda, Where Souls Turn to Dust is the remarkable story of his healing path to rebuilding his mind, body and spirit. He had to move away from the negative things that had been dominating his life, the loss of his loved ones, and the loss of his previous dreams. He rebuilt his life from the ashes of his old life in Rwanda, a life free of hatred, free of prejudice, and free of fears.

Author: Um'khonde Patrick Habamenshi
Publisher: iUniverse
Published: 08/22/2009
Pages: 336
Binding Type: Paperback
Weight: 1.09lbs
Size: 9.00h x 6.00w x 0.75d
ISBN: 9781440160837

About the Author
Um'Khonde Patrick Habamenshi was born in Gisenyi, Rwanda. In 2008, he created Behind Dogon Doors, a social enterprise helping individuals and organizations build a lasting legacy. Through his organization, Habamenshi uses the lessons he learnt in his own life to help others understand their true worth and the value they bring to the world. Habamenshi now lives in Toronto, Canada. Visit his website at www.rightyourlegacy.ca All my life I had been driven by the belief that there is always a better tomorrow after the storm. Now, I wasn't sure anymore. After five years living in post-genocide Rwanda, my idealism and optimism seemed all too childish and naive, my dreams a sad bundle of pipe dreams, chimerical projections of a mind that refused to see what the world really looked like. What if Evil was to always triumph over Good? What if I was to simply accept that I was just an odd "ethnic" piece mistakenly placed in the colourless puzzle of life? The refugee syndrome, that cruel realization that I belonged neither where I came from nor where I now was, affected me so acutely, it almost hurt to breathe. I was broken to a point I had not realized. I was left to myself to deal with my demons and my ghosts; a pervasive enemy roamed within me, slowly and surely killing me in a way the enemy without had failed. Although I had not collapsed before my tormentors in Rwanda, I now found myself slowly sinking into a deep and bottomless hole."

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