Letter written by Victoire Ingabire Umuhoza from prison in Kigali on October 26, 2026.
Earlier this year, my son mentioned my imprisonment during the Oslo Freedom Forum and I later learned that posters with my portrait had been placed at bus stops throughout the city. I am proud of my children, who defend freedom and justice, even though they have had to make enormous sacrifices to have an opposition figure as a mother. I hope you understand why I feel committed to this mission, even if it forces us to live apart.
I keep my spirits up, but I also fear for my life. The recent death of Aimable Karasira, a critical voice of the Government, which occurred in a Rwandan prison on the same day he was due to be released, confirms my fears.
I wonder if I will ever see my family again, or if I will be able to talk to my children and grandchildren again. But I am grateful to all those who have raised their voices on my behalf and have demanded my release. Although I receive little information behind these walls, I know that I have not been forgotten, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I call on all people, institutions and States that believe in democracy to join me and demand that the Rwandan regime undertake reforms for the benefit of its citizens and the entire region. I believe in a better future for Rwanda, but it cannot be built while independent voices continue to be silenced.
Unfortunately, this persecution seems neither new nor surprising.
Contrary to what the charges indicate, my crime is being a woman who is not afraid to dream, out loud, of a better future for Rwanda.
Since my arrest in June 2025, my requests to speak to my children have been rejected. I have only been able to maintain brief and sporadic contact with my husband, who is seriously ill. On several occasions, prison guards have confiscated my documents, as well as those of my lawyers, which has hindered the preparation of my defense. I have been prevented from meeting my co-defendants to prepare my defense and have been denied access to religious services inside the prison – a possibility enjoyed by other inmates.
I have always been a deeply believing person. In the darkest moments, I draw great strength from my faith. By depriving me, during my imprisonment, even of my right to spiritual nourishment, the regime seeks, in my opinion, to break my will. What they don’t understand is that when you know your cause is just, nothing can break you.
