He grew up bearing stigma, confusion and dilemma; shunned by his own community, locked in a quest for identity that decades later remains without an end.

Twenty-seven years later, Muragijimana Callixte finds it hard to tell his story. “Did I really deserve to be born?” he used to ask himself after her mother broke it out to him that he was born out of rape during the 1994 Genocide Against the Tutsi.

He was 18 years old when he learnt of the truth. It was devastating, “it almost broke him.” Muragijimana often broke down while narrating his story. He says it brings back bitter childhood memories. His mother would always get angry whenever he asked her about his father. When she finally told him, his passion to find his paternal family was crushed.

His mother told him that one day in May 1994, a man found her hiding in half burnt ruins near what used to be her home. She was alone and terrified.

The man was Interahamwe and she has never seen him before. At the moment, Muragijimana’s mother was almost certain that it was the end. He did not kill her, he raped her and left. “My mother told me it was the first and last time she saw him. She does not know if he is alive, dead, or where he came from. She only remembers an angry faced man holding a machete,” Muragijimana narrated.

Muragijimana is one of 20,000 children, now grown-ups, who were born from rape during the 1994 Genocide against the Tutsi. Perpetrators used rape of Tutsi women and girls as a weapon of war.

People like Muragijimana face particular challenges because they are not identified as survivors therefore not entitled to government supporting programs for survivors.

This adds to social stigma and dilemma in their communities since both parents’ families hardly welcome them. They were condemned to shame in a country where not knowing one's paternal lineage is deemed a dishonor.

Muragijimana did not get a chance to study further than primary school because her mother could not afford it. Contrary to children who were orphaned, those born of rape were not recognized as survivors of the genocide. In the aftermath, they received no specific support.

Naphtal Ahishakiye, Executive Secretary of Ibuka, an umbrella association of Genocide against the Tutsi survivor organizations said the children did nevertheless receive indirect help through their mothers, who were given assistance from a special fund set up after the massacres.

There are, however, other organizations that were privately initiated to recognize and support children born out of rape because they were facing particular challenges.

Despite the trauma and poverty, Muragijimana managed to hustle his way up to being a renowned driver in Kigali and wants to drive his own car one day. Muragijimana' s mother never speak about what happened to her during the genocide against the Tutsi.

“I think she wanted to completely forget about the past but that did not happen. She would spend days without talking to me whenever I brought up questions about my father. It was just me and her all the time and however much I wanted to know about my father, it hurts me seeing her sad. So, I eventually stopped asking,” he narrates.

He, however, likes to tell his story because he says “it is relieving how optimistic and hopeful he is despite his story.” “Until I was able to heal and embrace my story a few years ago, I would never talk about it. Then I realized that going on was the best way,” he said. Murajimana dreams of starting a family and creating a good life for her mother.