I just remembered the story of a man so brave, he stood firm in the middle of brutal, ongoing genocide and tactfully managed to negotiate through the chaos to save the lives of thousands of his countrymen. Today I’m going to tell the story of Paul Rusesabagina.
the powder keg
In the nineties, Rwanda was a land of contrasts—verdant hillsides and bustling markets stood amid simmering ethnic tensions. In its capital, Kigali, life bustled with everyday commerce while citizens whispered in hushed tones of the growing division between the Hutu majority and the Tutsi minority. Amidst this uneasy calm, the Hôtel des Mille Collines, managed by Mr. Paul Rusesabagina, offered an oasis of tranquillity, a chance at escape from the undercurrents of strife.
note on the division between the two ethnic groups
The division between the Hutus and Tutsis in Rwanda goes back centuries and grew a lot during Belgian colonial rule. They classified Rwandans based on perceived ethnic differences, with Tutsis given preferential treatment over the Hutus. This fostered deep resentment among the Hutu majority. After Rwanda gained independence in 1962, the power dynamic shifted, with the Hutu majority assuming control of the government, leading to decades of political tension and violence, culminating in the 1994 genocide.
On Thursday the 6th of April, 1994, the city, with its trees blooming crimson and streets humming with the rhythm of the daily to and fro, carried a palpable, tense air. Political undertones were present in every casual conversation, and the local media constantly hinted at looming upheaval, yet life went on—unaware but on guard.
As Kigali teetered on the edge of chaos, the hotel stood as a silent witness to the duality of Rwanda’s identity—its surface serenity betrayed by the imminent storm of conflict. This was his hotel and it would be the setting of Paul’s journey to heroism.
the spark
Later in the day, there was a seismic shift in Rwanda's history. A shocking jolt shot through the nation; President Juvénal Habyarimana’s plane was shot out of the sky as it approached Kigali, killing everyone on board. This is exactly what many had been waiting for and provided the excuse to initiate one of the most horrific chapters in human history.
Within hours, extremist Hutu militias mobilised, charged up on years of ethnic antagonism and egged on by inflammatory propaganda which told them to rid the country of the Tutsi ‘cockroaches’. The streets of Kigali, once serene with the casual chatter of passers by, was overnight transformed into a vacuum of chaos and death.
Roadblocks sprang up, manned by gangs armed with machetes, shoddy firearms and lists of names of Tutsis they wanted to bring to the slaughter.
As the sun appeared over the horizon the next day, sounds of terror, shouts, screams, and the all-too-frequent dull thuds of bodies were all you could still hear, carried on from the day before. The scale of violence was sickening, spreading outwards from Kigali to the far reaches of the country with brutal efficiency.
Amidst this horrifying escalation, however, the Hôtel des Mille Collines became a beacon for those needing a safe place to shelter. Paul, realising the gravity of the situation, opened the hotel’s doors to hundreds of desperate people, turning the luxury hotel into a sanctuary amidst a collapsing nation.
note on the Hotel
The first thing that I wondered when I heard this story was what was so special about this hotel? I imagine you might also be wondering that so here's an explainer: The Hôtel des Mille Collines gained unofficial sanctuary status due to its visibility on the world’s stage. It hosted both Rwandans and foreign nationals such as UN workers and diplomats deterring any kind of direct attacks as the Rwandan government sought to maintain a mask of legitimacy. Additionally, a small presence of UN forces provided a symbolic buffer, making assaults on the hotel risky.
The hotel's halls, which had warmly welcomed diplomats and dignitaries, now echoed with the sobs of terrified people and those who had lost everything in a heartbeat. Paul, like many, was overwhelmed, and faced with a difficult question: how does one maintain order and hope in a place surrounded by savagery?
His actions in those first 24 hours laid the groundwork for what would become a 100-day ordeal of courage and human resilience.
manoeuvring the madness
As Kigali descended further and further into chaos, Paul Rusesabagina orchestrated an extraordinary transformation. What was once renowned for its luxury and service, rapidly became a sanctuary and in some cases, a triage, for over a thousand refugees—both Tutsis and moderate Hutus. Paul's actions turned the corridors and suites of this ritzy hotel into haven for all running for their lives.
At this point, you should have no doubt that this hotel was under a siege. It was a tense standoff between the perpetrators of the horror and one brave hotel manager who managed to keep them at bay. Being under siege of course brought with it a plethora of issues which Paul had to get creative in order to solve.
limited resources
The logistics of managing the hotel under this circumstances were daunting. With regular supply cut offs, Paul had to improvise daily to provide food, water, and medical care. He repurposed hotel resources, carefully managing the stock to stretch the limited supplies. Kitchens that once served gourmet meals adapted to provide basic sustenance for the masses sheltered within its walls.
a balancing act
Security was constantly on Paul’s mind. He was skilled in diplomacy and used that to negotiate with the militias leveraging the hotel’s international image as a shield. He told the bloodthirsty mobs that any attack on the hotel would draw global ire. His negotiations often involved complex dealings—bartering supplies, information, booze and even money to keep the militias at bay.
keeping the hotel in the world’s eye
Paul also capitalised on the presence of international journalists and diplomats in the hotel. By facilitating their communication with the outside world, he ensured that news of the situation at the hotel reached global audiences, which added pressure on the militias to restrain their actions.
As days turned into weeks, the Hôtel des Mille Collines became more than just a building; it was a beacon of humanity in the midst of one of the darkest times in history. Paul’s courage and quick thinking saved countless lives and transformed the hotel from a place of temporary stay into a permanent symbol of resilience and sanctuary.
an end to the madness
As the weeks painfully drew longer, the violence outside the Hôtel des Mille Collines raged on. For those inside, each day felt like borrowed time, all of it dependent on the skills of one man. The massacre continued for one hundred days, but then something happened…the tide began to turn. The Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF), a Tutsi-led rebel group led by Paul Kagame (not to be mistaken with our protagonist Paul), launched a major offensive. The RPF, initially formed in the late 1980s by Rwandan exiles, had become the primary opposition to the Hutu-dominated government responsible for the genocide. As the RPF’s forces advanced across the country, they slowly but surely began to push back the Interahamwe militias responsible for most of the killing.
For our hotel manager Paul and the refugees, salvation did not through diplomacy or international intervention, but through the military force of the RPF, which eventually captured Kigali and brought the genocide to a brutal end in July 1994. After more than fifteen weeks of inhuman killing, it just stopped.
Paul had managed to shield every single one of those in his care from the carnage, and when the violence finally stopped, almost one million lives had been lost. The survivors in the hotel cautiously emerged into a nation now scarred, but alive—thanks to one man’s selfless and extraordinary efforts.
a hero and thorn in the side of the Rwandan government
Paul Rusesabagina could have returned to a life of relative anonymity but it seems the world would not let him. His story spread across the world and transformed him from a hotel manager into a global symbol of humanity and heroism.
Paul’s actions were brought to the big screen in the 2004 film Hotel Rwanda, showing us his story and immortalising it in a way. He was lauded for his courage, receiving numerous accolades, including the U.S. Presidential Medal of Freedom in 2005. The world embraced him as a figure who, against overwhelming odds, chose humanity over hatred.
When the whirlwind of hype cooled off, Paul began a new chapter as a human rights advocate, speaking out against violence, injustice, and the political corruption that still plagues Africa. His speeches at international forums and human rights organisations emphasised the importance of individual action in the face of overwhelming atrocities. Paul’s message was and remains a simple one: even in the darkest moments, a singular person can choose compassion and courage.
However, Paul's advocacy also made him a thorn in the side of the Rwandan government. His outspoken criticism of the RPF, and later President Paul Kagame’s regime—especially its approach to political dissent and human rights—strained his relationship with the country's leadership. In 2007, he was even briefly arrested by the Rwandan government, only to be released soon after. The arrest was seen by many as a warning shot. Since then, things have been relatively calm.
Mr. Rusesabagina’s legacy is not just a reminder of the Rwandan genocide, a very under-discussed topic in our communal history, but a broader call to stand up against evil even when faced with impossible odds. His journey from hotelier to hero, and then advocate, serves as a testament to the enduring power of moral responsibility and the willingness to speak out, even at great personal risk.
Wishing you bravery and moral accountability today,