Out-cycling the past

The humble Adrien Niyonshuti is the first mountain biker to represent Rwanda in the Olympics. Cycling helps him forget his terrible past, the genocide his country went through in 1994. He keeps pedalling on with determination and great strength.

Cycle racers are no strangers to pain. To reach the top, they must be able to endure and dig deep. But twenty-four-year-old Adrien Niyonshuti feels no pain as he climbs and descends the hills of his country on his racing bike. It only hurts when he goes too long without cycling. After a few days, his head feels like exploding and the bad memories return. Once again he hears the words, ‘We’re going to burn you alive’.
Test of strength
Rwanda is a country of cyclists. Though there’s hardly a flat inch to be found, the bicycle is an important means of transportation. From early morning until late at night, bicycles zip down the hills at high speed. They transport immense bags of potatoes, stacks of water-filled jerry cans, and passengers on their luggage racks. With such heavy loads, braking is all but impossible. So, to have some chance of slowing themselves down on the asphalt, transport cyclists tie pieces of tyre under their feet. 

Niyonshuti’s strength comes from cycling up and down these hills. Five years ago he became part of Team Rwanda, the national race cycling team founded by Jonathan Boyer, who was, in 1981, the first American to take part in the Tour de France. Boyer developed his talent and Niyonshuti now trains in South Africa where he is a member of MTN Qhubeka, the continent’s premier team. He is skilled in both racing and mountain biking, but will only be competing as a mountain biker at the London Olympics.

Putting Rwanda on the map
Niyonshuti sits on the lawn outside the house where team MTN Qhubeka stays and trains in Johannesburg and talks about his visit to the UK last year. His eyes lights up as he talks about the preparations for the Games. Of course he hopes to win a medal for his country but doesn’t dare to dream too much. His modest goal, he says, is to end among the top thirty. “My main aim is to put Rwanda on the map as a country of skilled cyclists, not just the country of genocide.”

This is a highly personal goal for the young Rwandan. He lost six brothers in the 1994 genocide, he tells me. “Run!” his father yelled when the killers came. Seven-year-old Niyonshuti followed his father and dove into the bushes under the shelter of banana plants. Tutsi homes were systematically combed, driving many to hide in forests, corn fields and swamps. His father had another plan for safety: the home of Hutu friends. They knocked on the door and were welcomed. Niyonshuti remembers the lack of food and water and the many other Tutsis who had sought refuge there. He spent weeks in hiding.

The Hutu militia who eventually found them carried jerry cans filled with gasoline. They forced everyone outside and separated the men, women and children in order to kill each group one by one. This is when Adrien heard the words that still haunt him: “We’re going to burn you alive.” Above them, dark clouds began to gather. Adrien heard shots in the distance. “Bang, bang, bang,” he pantomimes, as if he’s a child of seven again. The Tutsi RPF army was advancing. Their rescue came just in time.
Cycling heals
Niyonshuti says cycling helps him process his past. Without his bike, he gets headaches. During the annual Tour de Rwanda, when he cycles past the house he fled as a young boy, those hellish days return and his head throbs with pain. “They come back in my mind. I then wish my family could see me. They never saw me on my bike. For one kilometre, I hit the pedals and it is gone.”

He is a success story in Rwanda and a national celebrity. The traumatised country looks up to his achievements. The rider has spent the money he’s earned so far renovating his mother’s home and hooking up water and electricity, which are not standard amenities in Rwanda. He wants to take care of his family first, then of himself.

But fame can also be hard. From distant cousins to great-uncles, everyone knocks on his door for help. “When I am at my mother’s house people pass by asking if I can help with hospital expenses or other bills. If it is one per week I can try to manage. But imagine ten people with different problems. They think I am getting money for free. But I work so hard.”
VIDEO
http://vimeo.com/search?q=rising+from+ashes+rwanda+cycling
WEBSITE
http://teamrwandacycling.org/