Sometimes in April

I've been trying to write a post about the Rwandan genocide since I got here and before today I didn't think I could do it justice. I still don't think I can do it justice, but I feel like I have a better understanding of the magnitude of what happened.

Today we visited a genocide memorial in Kigali, it was overwhelming to say the least. What these people went through only 18 years ago. As I tried to wrap my head around what happened I imagined myself in the place of one of the Tutsi. Imagine watching as your mother was raped and hacked with a machete, your father shot and left to die slowly, your siblings being tortured. That's just a glimpse of what some of these Rwandans faced. No matter how young, children weren't spared. In April 1994 I was a year and a half old, if I had been the child of a Tutsi or even a moderate Hutu I'd be dead. These children's lives were stopped before they even really started. Around 1 million people were brutally murdered in 100 days, that's about 10,000 people a day. Each with names, faces, personalities, plans, dreams, and families. They weren't that different from you and me, but because they were of a certain ethnicity they were hunted like animals.

Now at this point most people would come to a conclusion about how this has impacted them, but honestly it's not done impacting me. So I'm leaving you to process this just like I'm still processing. There's a lot to think about, a lot to learn, and a lot to be thankful for.

The unfinished wall of names at the memorial, over 250,000 bodies are buried here.