They brought us to my other brother, Deogratias. He was a teacher. They conducted another search. Again, nothing. They became furious. We were four brothers. They brought us to the bush. There they started to insult us. They spat on our faces. "You started to kill us a long time ago," they told us, "How could you continue even now, by killing our President. Today you will be punished."

We thought about escaping but we couldn’t. We were encircled. They brought us to the commune’s centre and they started beating my brother Deogratias. They hit him. I was scared and managed to run away to the bush. I hid between some houses.

Makira, a Hutu man, saw me and realized the situation. He hid me. That evening I went home. I found the house empty. Later some of the women started to come back. There were only women. Their husbands were either killed or had run away. I was frightened. I knew the killers may organize a search and find me.

I told to my wife, who was a Hutu, to bring a hoe and dig a hole. I wanted to bury myself. I wore a big coat and she buried me in the cow barn. The next day they took my brother and beat him. He was hurt. They seriously damaged his health. He died three days later.

While still buried in the hole, I heard angry voices. "We didn’t see Ndarishikaniye’s body. Are sure he is dead?" They told my wife and the other wives that if they found me hiding there I would be killed together with them.

"Fine," my wife said. "Come inside and search for him." They found nothing in the house. They had big clubs. They were furious. They smashed everything they found. Everywhere. They even hit the hole in which I was buried. They did not know I was inside. Nevertheless, I was hurt. Sometimes even today, when I walk, I feel pain. But they left the house and I was saved.