Genocide Memorial

We visited the Genocide Memorial this afternoon. This was something I was looking forward to, believe it or not. I was the last one out ... of course. I'm always the one that takes the longest. I wanted to soak it all in. I could have gone through it a couple more times – I wanted to really understand and there’s so many details and complicated history that I’m still not sure I have my mind wrapped around it all. I actually didn’t get to finish, because they closed!

The first floor is all about the history of the Rwandan genocide. How things were actually going on long before the events of 1994. Basically, the genocide could have been prevented, but because people didn’t pay attention, well ... you know the story.

I was pretty numb through most of this part. I think because I kinda knew what to expect. Either that or I was just dumbfounded by how it could happen. And the fact that I was walking on the same ground that it happened.

Half of the second floor is about all the other genocides that have happened in the world. Like the Holocaust, Bosnia, Kosovo, Namibia (I think??), Cambodia. (which I didn’t realize that many had happened - I mean I remember hearing about the atrocities, but didn’t really realize they were considered genocides. Well, some countries still haven’t declared them genocides).

The other half of the second floor was all dedicated to the children lost in the Rwandan genocide. This is when I got choked up. They had pictures of children who were killed, with their names and what their favorite toy and food was. Who their best friend was, what their personality was like. And how they died. The worst one was a little girl who was beaten to death with a club. And a 5 year old whose eyes were gouged out and then shot in-between them. Its one thing to shoot them, because its over just like that, but it wasn’t just shooting them. There were machetes and clubbing and one baby was even thrown against the wall. I never got to this one, they turned the lights off before I had a chance to finish. Maybe it was God protecting my heart. I heard about the baby from the other interns. Its just beyond me to comprehend how anyone could do such things to a human, but then to a child??!! I mean, there were 2 & 3 year olds! How could someone do such evil things to a child, especially so small and innocent?! And that’s exactly what it is evil – that’s the only explanation to such horrific things. And these were beautiful kids! I can’t even imagine what it’d be like to go through that part of the memorial if I was a parent. I think about some of my friends who are parents, and I honestly don’t think they could handle it. I think they would leave. One of them, I know she probably would avoid it altogether.

(outside the memorial; this is the grave for all those whose bodies have yet to be discovered - kinda like the "tomb of the unknown soldier")

On the way home, Jen asked us our impressions. The thing that was most prevalent was anger. She asked what I was angry at. At first, I couldn’t really put it into words. I was angry that it happened and is still happening today. I was angry that people could let such things happen. That our world is made up of so much corruption. Angry that there are people who could even fathom that things like genocide are okay. And that the horrific and inhuman ways of committing genocide could even exist in one’s thoughts. Were they crazy? Are they crazy? Seriously, are they mentally ill? How does one’s mind form such ideas?

I was angry that these genocides basically happened for no reason. Or if there was a reason, it was so insignificant, so simple, that you just can’t even understand how it could lead to murdering thousands, sometimes millions, of people. How did it get so far? How did anyone think it was okay? I was angry that there is so much ignorance in the world. And so much apathy. And so much desire for power and control. Those are the things that started many of the genocides. I can’t tell you specifically the events behind all the genocides, because I don’t remember. I just remember it didn’t make sense. I remember reading one of the displays several times(I think it was for Armenia), looking for the reason the hatred began. But I couldn’t find it. I couldn’t understand. Perhaps if I knew my history better, and was more up-to-speed with foreign affairs and what is and has been reality and not fed to me as an American, then maybe I could have understood better.

I heard one of the other interns say she just kept thinking, “where was God is all this?” Do you have an answer to that? Really, anyone?

I guess maybe you have to focus on God stopping it. Perhaps? That He didn’t let it continue? That for a time, Satan was holding enough people captive that these atrocities happened. Its all about original sin, right? Its about free will? But how is it okay for so so so many innocent people to pay for the messed up free will of so few? But then there’s also the question, why did God wait so long to rescue the Israelites?

* * * * *

I want to know the stories of people here who lived through the genocide. That was one of the things that attracted me to Rwanda. But I’m not sure how much of those stories I’m going to experience. People don’t talk about it much, from what I’m told. Not that they won’t, but its just a very sensitive subject. Um, understood! And even aside from the heaviness of such a topic, Africans don’t share a lot personally anyway.

I think perhaps I’m going to have to just know that all the people I work with were affected in one way or another. Realize that some maybe are dealing with deeper issues and pain and trauma than others. And then just trust that God will allow my love and heart to penetrate through them and give them the healing and comfort they need. From my experience with Malawi, and I’m finding the same will probably be true of Rwanda, I know that you don’t always have to do things by the book. That there are many ways of communicating and showing love and giving peace … and finding it. So just like I might communicate in a nonverbal way to a Rwandan, perhaps I can also know their story in a nonverbal way. Perhaps the Holy Spirit will tell me their story. And their heart will tell me their story. If I can even get to their heart ...