Today my blog is going to be a bit different. We went to the genocide memorial and to Nyamata, where in one church 10 000 people were killed during the genocide in 1994. I will not share the horrible stories or the greasy details, neither do I have pictures for you today. I would like to share my thoughts on it all though.
By an outsider
What is a piece of clothing, without a breathing body in it?
What is a T-shirt, without a pounding heart,
or someone’s salty sweat, to prove it is his?
It is nothing but a consumption good to be bought in stores.
But it is all that is left…
What are rows of skulls, without names, and without pictures?
What are bones, without the flesh that once surrounded them?
They are empty memories.
Unrecognizable results of a gruesome disaster.
They say you should forgive, but never forget.
But what is that for an outsider?
Nothing to identify with, no one to remember.
How do we empathize with that, what we do not understand?
It leaves nothing but question marks.
Let us nevertheless, never be that cruel.
Let us despite the question marks, always try.
Try to understand
Try to empathize
Try to love