The April rains have come and so we look out remembering our past. Years have passed, but we still look out and see the rains that poured for days on end. Rains that poured unto the faces of those that wept. Wept for their children, mothers, father, brothers, sisters. They wept for their people, they wept for their Rwanda.
25 years later but the pain remains unbearable. We look back to a painful history. History that was tainted and interrupted by hatred and anger. Hatred that stemmed from people we called our brothers and sisters. Anger that sprouted from the grounds of jealousy. People we once called our neighbors, were the first to lead us to the stake.
Nations watched our demise, only to be silent. But we could hear the cries and beckons of help.Fathers stood in courage and bravery to save their loved ones. Mothers fought and pleaded for their children to be spared. Children cried out for love and mercy to prevail, as their families were being torn apart. All to be ridiculed by death and darkness.
25 years later, we stand as a testament of hope. We rose from ashes, clawed our way out of the abyss of darkness and hopelessness. We stand, harnessing the bravery, courage and love that our liberators had. We stand with strength and hope that our Rwanda will continue to prosper and grow.
Tuzahora tubibuka, tubahesha ishema, dusigasira amateka yacu.
Kwibuka 25
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