That Spring in 1994: What I Remember—Recollections of the Rwandan Genocide

Newest rewrite (previous version available here):

That Spring in 1994: What I Remember—Recollections of the Rwandan Genocide

That spring in 1994, I was 15 years old and a freshman at Bedford High School in Massachusetts.   Searching my memory of that period, I can't uncover even a faded polaroid recollection to give witness to the murder of almost a million men, women, boys, girls and babies. 

That spring

I remember working as a bagger at the grocery store on Hanscomb Air Force Base. 

I remember fleeing the base theatre with my friend CJ after we lit up cigars during a movie.

I remember the field where I would play soccer by my school.

What I can recall

I close my eyes and I can smell the dusty paper of the grocery bags.

I close my eyes and I can feel my heart racing as we were chased out of the theatre.

I close my eyes and I can see the long and overgrown green grass of the soccer field.

That same spring

Nearly a million people's last breath and smell was rotten and rife with

sweat, urine, and blood.

Murderers crushed and ripped apart nearly a million hearts.

Murderers smashed shut nearly a million sets of eyes. 

That same spring

Millions of people

knew.

And millions of people did

nothing.

Today

            Today

                        Today

                                    Today

                                                          and everyday

I trudge with the grief of my own ignorance

like an iron yoke

on the shoulders

of my soul.

My paper is here.