Growing up in a post-genocide generation, you hear a lot of different stories and every story is worse than the one you've just heard.
I grew up thinking that Rwandans were the strongest-hearted people. People talk about how their entire families were wiped out, or how someone had ten children and now they only have two. I spent my childhood wondering how those people move on from that. Every Kwibuka, I'm stunned.
How are these people still living their lives?
I really don't understand. I feel like an outsider looking in.
My grandma tells me that when we fled we saw many dead bodies, but I was only two years old. I don't remember anything. My own life story sounds just like that – like a story.
My body was physically in Rwanda, but emotionally I don't connect.
Quite honestly I don't miss my parents. You can't miss people you don't remember. I honour their memory by listening to stories about how they loved each other but I'm never sad because I never felt their absence.
My grandma made sure we went to the best schools, we never lacked for anything. I lived a very normal, happy life. I realise how blessed I am to have been adopted by my own family.
When I was younger, I felt guilty that I was not struggling like the other genocide orphans. In high school we had a support group for genocide orphans and survivors but I didn't feel as though I belonged with them. I mean, what would I have to say to them?
I don't think your whole being should be judged by what your past holds.
As a Rwandan I'm much more than an experience connected to genocide. It happened, yes, but can we just move on? Surely there is a way to talk about Rwanda without focusing on the genocide. At the very least you can add other nice things about Rwanda into the conversation. We are a people who have been to hell and bounced back, we are that strong.
I was diagnosed with cancer when I was 19. I wrote a book about what I was going through, to find my voice in the midst of that chaos. It's my story of hope and courage, which, I think, reflects the history of my country.
It's called My Name is Life.