Wednesday, April 13

Rising to Meet the Sun

So much for sleep.

The images of those lime covered, partially decayed bodies visited me throughout the night. Its turned into a morning with a love for coffee the size of the unknown. Images of bodies which lay akimbo - covering the entirety of those wooden platforms in which they lay upon...filling entire rooms of entire buildings. Babies too. I can tell cause their little arms are the size of my hands. Bodies of babies in their mothers arms. A place many of us have sought refuge from the concerns of the world - only found it a place in which they would be hacked into.

There is this story of a 9 month pregnant woman that stays with me. The killers cut the baby from her precious body before hacking her to bits.

So how can one sleep when the souls of the dead visit your dreams? Your mind? Your heart?
"Mwaramutse" * takes on a whole 'nother meaning, as does the sun rise this day. I feel changed - as if nothing could soothe the utter and total horror at Murambi - a place that we all stood in the don't know and bore witness to the total human catastrophe.