Rwanda Genocide

Since i never posted about my time in Rwanda and the things we learned about the genocide, i ask my friend Haley if i could just post what she wrote about the topic. it encompasses all my feelings as well. and really portrays the horrific things and events that happened there...

No documentary, book, or classroom discussion can prepare you for the horror of the Rwanda genocide. For those of you who don’t know, over 800,000 people died in a period of 100 days. As I walked into the Rwanda Genocide Museum I see a room full of pictures of the dead. I stopped breathing. It’s overwhelming to see so much death in one place, it’s even more overwhelming to know that this room is only a fraction of the total. All I could do was cry. The next room over consisted of clear cases full of skulls and various bones. You could see the machete marks and the bullet holes. I kept crying. Right outside the rooms was the quote: “When they said, ‘Never again,’ did they mean for some and not for others?” The only thought I could muster was, “when did people stop mattering? Since when was human life not important enough to save?” My heart broke. The west failed Rwanda. Scratch that, the whole world failed Rwanda.

As I walk through the section of dead children, one sign stands out. The sign reads: “Cause of death- beat against a wall.” Those words took a new meaning when I walked into one of the genocide church memorials. Our guide led us into the church and showed us a section full of clothes from the dead. She said, “this is where all the children were kept. The black spots on the walls is blood from where their heads were bashed into the wall.” I thought I was going to be sick. I just stood and stared, wide eyed and horrified. Then she walked us out back and took us into a mass grave. Shelf after shelf was full of skulls and bones. My heart broke a little more.

I was only 2 years old when the genocide happened. There was nothing I could have done. But on that day, I found no solace in that. I have never been so disgusted to be an American in my entire life. We sat there while nearly a million people were slaughtered. I don’t know if I will ever be able to comprehend this.

Rwanda is a beautiful country, but when you look into the eyes of the people there you can still see the hurt. Their wounds have not quite healed. A speaker who survived the genocide came to speak to us. In reference to Rwanda he said: “This isn’t a bus, it’s an ambulance. We’re all wounded.” That is the only way I can think to wrap up this post, we’re all wounded.