Processing the Pain 20 Years after a Genocide that Passed Me By

Today, I continue my 100 day series remembering the twentieth anniversary of Rwandan genocide. Please join me in prayer for those lives lost and impacted in this tragedy. #NeverAgain. LMH

I’m sorry for the radio silence around here the past several days. I would blame my busy schedule, but the truth is that I just haven’t really known what to say, or how to say it.

After last week’s post about Rwandan President Paul Kagame’s being criticized by a group of students at Stanford, I received a flurry of email. The emails came from a variety of vantage points and from well educated, caring compassionate people who have been personally impacted both by the Rwandan genocide and its aftermath.

When I started this series — which was really just a personal commitment to remember those lives lost twenty years ago — I  didn’t have any concept of what I was getting myself into. I planned to share, to write, to learn and mostly to pray. I knew that based upon my crazy schedule I wouldn’t get 100 posts done. But I figured that I would do my best. I hoped that in learning more about the genocide and the wake it left that I might also help a few friends learn too.

I’ve been largely motivated in this process by guilt.

When I stood at Genocide memorials last year and prayed over dead bodies, tears ran down my face. The tears were for these poor souls and those who had loved them. But they were also tears of remorse. I felt so horrible about the fact that this insanity, this evil, this madness had happened and that I honestly hadn’t even known about it. I was so wrapped up in my happy life that I was completely oblivious.

Twenty years ago, we didn’t have cell phones or a twenty-four hour news cycle or twitter to keep us informed. But I was also just completely consumed then in my own life.

So here I am, twenty years after the fact, trying to learn about what happened.

And the truth is, I’m scared.

I’m scared about the nightmares that continue to plague me since I visited Rwanda.

I’m scared by emails I receive and news articles I read that point to continuing evil I truly don’t understand.

I’m scared that in continuing to write about something that happened in the distant past, I might miss or be blind to details that are important to truly understanding what happened and how we can prevent it in the future.

But mostly I’m horrified for the victims of genocide, in Rwanda and elsewhere, who wake up each day with memories that make what I’ve seen look tiny. And I’m scared for people everywhere who live in daily fear for their lives.

So I’ve been praying. After some of the contacts I had last week, I was ready to write a post here and simply call it quits. I’m not a qualified investigative journalist, so I thought I could simply say I wasn’t qualified to continue this process. I wanted the nightmares to end. I wanted my peace of mind back.

When you draw back the curtain — even for a second or two — and look true evil in the eye, it can’t be unseen. Most of us wouldn’t want to go back to that same curtain, throw it open wide, and plunge in. We’d likely choose instead to board that view over, to barricade it, and to try to forget.

That’s what I was hoping to do.

I didn’t write the last few days because I didn’t know what to write, or how to write it. Honestly, I still don’t. The rest of this series — should I choose to continue it — could continue to be filled with newsy links and photo opportunities. I could share hopeful stories of lives bettered and reconciliation attained.

Or I could dive off the deep end and share some of the items that have been sent my way that point to continuing horror both in Rwanda and for Rwandans living away from their country. It would be so very easy to become fully consumed by that if I had the time and the talent to do it any justice. Unfortunately, I don’t. So instead of trying to unravel these mysteries, I’m going to have to simply point you to resources that will do it more eloquently than I ever could and with far greater authority.

I have yet to come up with a good conclusion to both this post and to my 100 day series. For today, this post is what you get — a look into my head and a sharing of my soul.

I have no answers when it comes to understanding the genocide. That’s probably because it can’t be understood – it can only be remembered. And from my comfortable existence in California, the best I can probably hope to do is to vow prayers for both those souls who were lost and their loved ones, and also for those who continue to face fear, pain and torture.

So today and ever day until July 15th, I’ll be praying.

Whether or not I will be blogging about Rwanda remains to be seen.

Our Lady of Kibeho, pray for us.