“It has been estimated that 90% of the children who survived (the Genocide) in Rwanda saw someone they knew die a violent death during that time.” Romeo D’Allaire – Shake Hands With The Devil.

In the opening scene from Romeo’s book, he tells the story of coming across a small boy, walking barefoot down a gravel road. In spite of the risk of taking fire (this was during the height of the conflict), D’Allaire got out of his vehicle and followed the little boy down a rocky lane. The child entered a small hut and ran over to bury his face in the skirt of his dead mother. His parents had been bludgeoned by machetes and clubs and left for dead at a little table. This child had been alone for a days, with no food, water, or protection as the bodies of his parents slowly decomposed.

This image continues to haunt me and I can barely swallow the lump in my throat as I think about that little boy. A child  - much like the one I’m holding in this picture. An innocent child, who in an instant became one of the 300,000 orphans created by the Rwandan Genocide. Who somehow survived the senseless killing of over a million people in the span of 100 days.

Unlike in many conflict situations, the women and children of Rwanda became a direct target of the extremist Hutu Interahamwe to ensure another generation of Tutsis did not emerge. Murderers used machetes, clubs, guns, and any blunt tool they could find to inflict as much pain as possible on their victims. Children were frequently forced to participate – by killing neighbours and friends and sometimes women were even forced to kill their own children. It’s devastating and unimaginable, isn’t it? Continue reading →