Here is why I wrote 5 books for those who remember what they haven't lived.
memory must inform action
When I set out to write a five-book series about the 1994 Genocide against the Tutsi in Rwanda, I faced a profound challenge: how to help generations who never witnessed these events carry their weight and wisdom.
This was coming from a question I got from a 12-year-old in my Kinyarwanda class who once asked me this question : “ How Do You Remember What You Haven't Lived?”
I answered with a short poem:
3 years later, more children asked the same question. So I wrote books exploring how we inherit memories that were never ours.
Each book needed to serve as both a mirror and window, reflecting the readers' inherited connection to history while offering a clear view into events they never personally experienced.
Memory is a curious thing. Science tells us it cannot truly be passed through DNA, yet cultures worldwide speak of "blood memory," "ancestral knowledge," and "collective remembrance." We inherit physical traits from those before us and their stories, silences, and ways of moving through the world.
The Genocide against the Tutsi created ripples that continue to shape Rwandan identity and, by extension, our human story across generations who never witnessed the horrors directly.
My series emerged from this understanding: that remembrance is not passive but active, not automatic but cultivated, not static but evolving.
Each book was carefully designed to meet readers at their developmental stage, offering age-appropriate access to brutal truths while honouring the sacred responsibility of remembering.
Let me break down the thinking behind the books.
1. The Story of Light (Ages 6–9)
Writing for young children about genocide presented unique challenges. Children this age perceive the world concretely, with limited ability to process historical trauma. Yet Rwanda's children inherit this history from birth.
I focused on hope, resilience, and community care themes for these youngest readers. The book uses gentle metaphors and simple illustrations that introduce concepts of remembrance without overwhelming young minds. The goal was to help children understand that remembering sad things can also include hope.
One significant element was the inclusion of "flowers and candles" as they are used during memorial services.
2. Stories That Live in Us (Ages 10–14)
Preadolescents occupy a liminal space. They are old enough to understand historical events but still develop the emotional capacity to process them.
For this age group, I structured the book around the Rwandan tradition of storytelling, adding historical facts with survivor narratives adapted for young readers.
The book introduces a character who shares a testimony, which I think makes it more relatable.
I consulted with a child psychologist and Rwandan educators to ensure the content remained truthful while respecting the emotional readiness of this age group. The book acknowledges violence without graphic detail, focusing instead on the courage of survivors and the importance of speaking the truth.
3. We Are the Memory (Ages 14–18)
Adolescents can engage with history more directly. This volume addresses the genocide's causes, progression, and aftermath. However, I was mindful that teenagers process information through their emerging identities and peer relationships.
The book integrates survivor testimony and primary sources. I incorporated interactive elements like guided discussions and artistic responses to history.
At the end of the book, there is a link to the Kigali Genocide Memorial's digital archives, which allows readers to explore the museum more deeply when they are ready.
Perhaps most significantly, this volume directly addresses the challenges of intergenerational trauma and post-genocide identity formation. It includes journal prompts that help readers process difficult emotions and connect personal experiences to historical events.
4. Born of Ashes (Ages 19–29)
Young adults establishing their place in the world need ways to integrate historical understanding with forward-looking action. This volume explores the complexity of reconciliation, justice, and nation-building in post-genocide Rwanda.
The book poses difficult questions without offering easy answers: What responsibilities do those born after trauma carry? Through guided reflections, readers are invited to consider their relationship to historical events and their role in shaping collective memory.
5. Seeds of Memory (Ages 30+)
For mature adults, memory work involves integrating historical understanding into a fully formed worldview. This final volume explores the role those who inherited the trauma in the aftermath must play as they build their families.
This volume also addresses the transition of memory work to subsequent generations. It offers frameworks for community commemoration, ethical documentation practices, and intergenerational dialogue.
How to Remember What You Haven’t Lived : The Complete 5-Book Series on Memory, Healing & Legacy
Throughout the creation of these books, I maintained certain principles:
Lead with survivor voices. While I provided historical context and educational frameworks, survivor testimonies remain central to authentic memory work.
Embrace complexity. The books reject simplistic narratives about ethnicity, violence, or reconciliation, inviting readers to sit with difficult questions.
I balanced truth with care. While never shying away from historical facts, I presented information in ways that respected readers' developmental and emotional capacities.
Connect past to present. The series consistently links historical understanding to contemporary responsibilities, emphasising that memory must inform action.
Honour cultural context. Each book incorporates Rwandan cultural practices and wisdom traditions as vehicles for memory work.
Memory as Inheritance
Creating this series taught me that collective memory is our most precious inheritance. When we help young people understand histories, they never lived complicated ones. We offer them not just knowledge but identity. We help them make meaning of the world they inhabit and their place within it.
There are no books like these in the current Rwanda’s education system. I hope these are adopted in Rwandan schools, diaspora communities, and international educational settings. The feedback affirmed that thoughtful, age-appropriate engagement with complex history can heal and empower.
And for parents, I hope they get to use these books to start the conversation.
One young reader in Manchester wrote to me: "I was born after the genocide, but these books helped me understand why my parents are sometimes sad, why we light candles in April, why our country works so hard for unity. Even though I wasn't there, I can carry this memory forward."
This, ultimately, is what we ask of generations born after trauma:
not to have witnessed, but to witness now;
not to have experienced, but to listen deeply to those who did;
not to have remembered, but to become, themselves, the memory keepers.
Perhaps this is the best form of remembrance, not the passive inheritance of trauma but the active cultivation of memory as a bridge between what was and what might yet be.
I hope these books are useful.
With a grateful heart,
Ivan Nyagatare.