Heroes Never Die—They Become Seeds of Liberation

“Heroes Never Die—They Become Seeds of Liberation”

In a powerful and deeply moving tribute, Ingabire Immaculée, Rwanda’s Transparency Chief, honored the fallen commander Makanika, former leader of the Twirwaneho movement, who passed away in February 2025. But for many who truly understand the spirit of sacrifice, Makanika did not die — he transcended.

Ingabire did not speak like a bureaucrat. She spoke like a daughter of the continent, carrying the weight of history in her voice. “Makanika was not just a soldier,” she said. “He was a hero. And true heroes never die — they become seeds. Seeds that grow into movements, into courage, into the unshakable will to reclaim justice.”

To the Banyamulenge community, long marginalized, long silenced, her message was clear: The pain you feel now is not the end — it is the labor before birth. She reminded them that when the fight reaches its most painful moments, that’s often when victory is near. She invoked the legacy of Fred Gisa Rwigema, who fell before Rwanda’s liberation was complete — and yet, his sacrifice became the very foundation of the freedom his people enjoy today. She likened Makanika’s death to that of the biblical Moses, who led his people out of bondage but never stepped into the Promised Land himself. Still, his people made it. That’s what legacy means.

Ingabire shared Makanika’s haunting but prophetic words: “We may have to die so that others can one day live in peace.” And now, those words are becoming flesh. Peace, fragile but present, has touched the land. The Banyamulenge are beginning to rest. Some now sleep through the night — not because the war is over, but because hope has entered the room.

Yes, the hills are still burning in parts of South Kivu. But there, in the shadows of loss, is also the flicker of a future Makanika believed in. A future where no one is hunted for their identity. A future where justice belongs to everyone — not just the loudest, not just the strongest, but also to the ones who dared to dream.

This is not just a tribute. It is a reminder: You can kill the man. But you cannot kill the movement.