By Eloge Kaneza 

In the dusty streets of Mahama refugee camp in Rwanda, where hope is often fragile and trauma runs deep, a flame of dignity and compassion burns steadily. That flame has a name: Marguerite Barankitse, affectionately called “Maggy.” Known across the African continent and even beyond as the “Angel of Burundi” and sometimes as the “Mother Teresa of Africa,” Barankitse’s mission of love, justice, and unrelenting service is rooted in a life of sacrifice, pain, and unwavering faith. Through Maison Shalom, a haven she founded for children orphaned by violence, she has restored dignity to thousands of refugees, orphans, and marginalized people across borders. Her story is both a personal testimony and a political statement. 

Born in Ruyigi, a small town in eastern Burundi, Marguerite Barankitse’s calling was clear from an early age. A former teacher and diocesan official, Maggy founded Maison Shalom in 1993 in the wake of ethnic massacres that shook Burundi. The organization provided refuge for children – Hutu, Tutsi, and Twa alike – and became a symbol of unity and healing. 

“This is the proof,” she said, “that refugees are not a burden. They are a treasure when you invest in their dreams.” 

Marguerite Barankitse

The spark for Maison Shalom came during the horrors of the 1993 civil war in Burundi, when she witnessed the massacre of 72 people, and saved the lives of 25 children. That trauma did not make her retreat. Instead, it gave birth to a vision: a world where love triumphs over hatred. 

“I have no enemies,” she told Amjambo Africa. “Only brothers and sisters who have lost their way.” 

In 2015, Barankitse was forced into exile after she openly denounced the regime of the late President Pierre Nkurunziza. That year, Burundi erupted in protests after Nkurunziza announced a third term in office – widely considered unconstitutional and a violation of the Arusha Peace Agreement. One of the young protesters was Trésor, a teenager from Musaga, a southern neighborhood of Bujumbura, then the political capital. He was among the youth who stood up peacefully, demanding justice and respect for the constitution. Tragically, Trésor was shot by state security forces. 

“When I saw Trésor wounded, bleeding, I couldn’t remain silent,” Maggy said. “That anger – that sacred anger – it pushed Jesus to chase merchants from the temple. It pushes me, too. Love cannot coexist with injustice.” 

This incident exemplifies what she calls her “holy rage.” Her critics have accused her of being too outspoken, even disrespectful. But Barankitse says she would rather speak uncomfortable truths than stay silent in the face of tyranny. 

“Yes, I called the president a buffoon,” she says. “Because it was the truth. Because people were being slaughtered. I will never apologize for standing up for life.” 

Resistance without weapons 

Exiled in Rwanda, instead of falling into despair, Marguerite Barankitse founded a new branch of Maison Shalom in Mahama camp, a sprawling settlement for Burundian and Congolese refugees. Her tools of resistance were not guns but schools, clinics, and scholarships. 

“This is my resistance,” she said. “Education is the most powerful weapon. Not bullets, but books. Not violence, but love.” 

Maison Shalom in Mahama is more than a center – it’s a city-in-the-making, with youth centers, libraries, gardens, sports fields, and vocational training workshops in carpentry, mechanics, tailoring, and digital technology. Young people, once traumatized, are becoming builders of their own future. 

“This is the proof,” she said, “that refugees are not a burden. They are a treasure, when you invest in their dreams.” 

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Illness couldn’t stop her 

Few know that Marguerite Barankitse recently battled a serious illness. She spent months in a hospital in Belgium undergoing treatment. During those long nights of pain, she drew strength from prayer and the messages of hope sent by the very children she once rescued. 

“I was weak, yes, but never hopeless,” she said. “Providence gave me strength. Just like the widow of Zarephath whose jar of flour never ran out, my heart never ran dry.” 

She returned to Mahama stronger, fiercer, and even more determined. Rather than silencing her, her illness has sharpened her sense of urgency and commitment. 

A woman set apart 

Barankitse’s life is marked by a radical devotion that has left little room for traditional paths. She never married, and she speaks about this choice with a deep sense of conviction. 

“I chose to love everyone,” she sais. “Marriage is beautiful, but my call was different. I wanted to be free to serve everyone who knocked on my door.” 

Her singleness is not an absence, but a presence – an open invitation to the poor, the broken, and the forgotten. Some have misunderstood her, even ridiculed her. But she remains firm in her vocation: “I belong to no one because I belong to everyone.” 

She added: “To all young African women: don’t wait to be validated by society. You are already enough. Lead. Serve. Love.” 

Encounters with three popes 

Over the years, Barankitse’s mission has brought her to the Vatican multiple times. She has met three popes: John Paul II, Benedict XVI, and Francis. Each encounter reaffirmed her belief in the global church’s duty to protect the marginalized. 

“I remember when I met Pope Francis,” she said. “He told me, ‘Thank you for what you do for the little ones.’ And I told him: ‘I do it because I see Christ in them.’ ” 

Her meeting with Pope John Paul II was especially moving for her. “He held my hands and said, ‘Continue, daughter of Africa.’ ” Those words became a lifelong blessing and a spiritual baton she still carries. 

These meetings were not just ceremonial. They were moments of deep spiritual affirmation that helped her continue amid threats, exile, and illness. 

International recognition 

Maggy’s work has received international acclaim. She has been awarded the Aurora Prize for Awakening Humanity, the Opus Prize, the World’s Children’s Prize, and many more. 

“But it’s not about the medals,” she said. “It’s about the people. Awards remind the world that love still matters.” 

Lessons from Rwanda 

Living in Rwanda, Burundi’s small neighboring country, she has witnessed what she calls “the miracle of reconstruction.” This has been a revelation for her and for the Burundian refugees she serves. 

“In Rwanda, they teach us that even after genocide, you can rebuild. You can forgive. You can create a just society,” she said. 

Refugees learn dignity from Rwanda’s cleanliness, order, and systems of justice. Many now hope to bring these lessons back to Burundi when it is safe to return. “The youth here are disciplined. The people are united. We are learning that reconciliation is possible,” she said. 

Dreams of return 

Barankitse dreams of a day when every Burundian refugee will return – not in fear, but with joy.  “That day will come,” she insisted. “And when it does, we must not return with vengeance but with the courage to rebuild, to forgive, to educate.” 

She imagines a new Maison Shalom in Burundi. A city of peace, perhaps like Mahama City, the one she is building in Rwanda, where dignity is restored and youth can dream again. 

She believes that the return must be prepared spiritually and structurally. “We must not return with hatred in our hearts. We must return with tools, ideas, and above all, love.” 

Final plea 

Maggy has a message for the diaspora: “You have left Burundi, but Burundi has not left you. One dollar a month – that’s all I ask. If each Burundian in exile gave that, we could rebuild hospitals, schools, homes. We could restore dignity.” 

She continued: “Look at me. I was once a girl eating stolen food on the streets. And now I can offer food to others. Why? Because of love. Because of faith. Because someone believed in me.” 

Legacy of a Sindumuja 

In Kirundi, “Sindumuja” means “I am not a slave.” It was a rallying cry during the 2015 protests. Maggy embraces this identity with pride. “I am a Sindumuja. God created us free, and truth sets us free,” she declared. 

At the end of the interview, she thanked Amjambo Africa not just for coverage, but for companionship. “Friendship is the greatest joy,” she said. And that joy – rooted in radical love and righteous resistance – is what defines Marguerite Barankitse’s life. She is more than a humanitarian. She is a witness. A fire that refuses to go out.