The stars were glowing intensely that night; It looked almost as if it was a warning. The mousebirds that usually fill the sky were nowhere to be seen. You could feel it: something terrible was going to happen. The humidity of the air stuffed my lungs making it extremely difficult to breath. I could barely hear the TV over the loud roar from the helicopter,
“Breaking news: Rwandan President Juvenal Habyarimana has been killed. The former president’s plane has been shot down above Kigali airport believed to be by a Tutsi rebel group. The president’s plane came crashing down and exploded on impact. There was one survivor who is currently in the hospital in critical condition.”
The world had stood still; we all stood frozen as the TV announced …show more content…
In only a few days, a slaughter began. Everyone turned on everyone; neighbours killed neighbours and family killed family. Husband’s killed their Tutsi wives in fear that they would be killed themselves. Churches became memorials as a reminder of the people that died. There was something weird about that: A place where you can praise god and mourn the dead …show more content…
The blood on the razor blade had become dry almost as if he has was sitting like that for a while. He wasn’t conscious enough to respond to my questions but he was conscious enough to keep crying; it looked like he was stuck in a dream.
“Eight hundred thousand,” I heard him whisper.
“He lost a lot of blood but he’ll be alright,” the doctor stated. “Do you have any idea why this happened?” “We believe that Mr. Dallaire may have post-traumatic stress disorder. We would like to keep him here for a while so that we can be sure.”
I was in no position to deny, after all, he wasn’t my family. He was an old friend whom I used to look up to. Yet for some reason, I felt responsible for him; as if I there had been an unspoken debt between us that needed to be repaid. In that moment I realized how dangerous the human mind can be. Memories have teeth and will rip you apart before you even know what