Normally when my head hits the pillow, I am out cold for the night. Tonight, or rather, last night, I began thinking about Rwanda, where I will be travelling in a few months. I thought about the 800,000 killed there in 1994, mostly by machetes and spears, or by drowning in rivers. That was only in the first three months. Then the counter-attack began, and the only statistics that changed was the tribe doing the killing, and the tribe doing the dying. I thought about the orphans left and those who are permanently maimed, not just physically, but spiritually.
Then I ask, ‘Oh God, how could we let this happen?’ There will be no sleep for me tonight.