“Mama I want the grave to open to give me rest,”

“Don’t talk so, Ben,” mama said, “Put your trust in God. Be hopeful and he may save you,”
“No, mama I don’t believe. We have served him for nothing,”

“When troubles come upon us and we have no arm to lean upon, we have to call on God and he shall lighten our burdens. I want you to do likewise,”

She was soon forced to stop talking. A Hutu killer overheard us and let out a shout. Our first impulse was to run but he fired a shot in the air. Our legs trembled so much we couldn’t run. It was very terrifying.

At this point a crowd came and we saw killers with machetes, sticks and clubs descending to the swamp screaming and chanting songs of how they were going to chop us; as if we weren’t human beings. We were trembling like leaves, tears in our eyes as we gathered rocks and sticks to try to fend them off. I can’t forget this as long as I can remember anything. Several of the women I used to run errands for also came; the rest of the neighbours were there as well, including friends we had for a long time supplied with cakes.

They made noise and treated us like thieves, holding machetes covered in blood and torturing us with the sight of mutilated body parts of a girl they had just killed. At that point several of the women I used to run errands for also came and called out,

“Oh, oh wait! Who is going to kill Aunt Marty and her children? Don’t stand there Aunt Marty! That is no place for you,” one of the said.

Mama was a very spirited single mother. The public knew it. She was generally known and everybody who knew her respected her. Papa’s death was also well known. No one touched us. I understood very well that they were ashamed of themselves.

At last, a voice said, “Marty come with me,”

It came from our neighbour. I have forgotten her name. Mama had taught her baking and she wanted to protect us. The rest of the Hutus did not like that. The lady divided us up so there was a better chance of someone in our family surviving. I went with her and Immaculee and mama went separate to hide in the house of someone who used to work with my dad.

For three weeks I was barricaded in a room so that I wouldn’t be spotted. The moon would just rise and cast an uncertain light through the bars of the window. It was filled with an army of notorious bed bugs who wasted no time in infesting my clothes and my hair. In our house, I had never seen bed bugs.

The kind Hutu lady brought me blankets to sleep on the floor and I received some dry hard bread in the mornings and a little hot soup every evening. I was thinking about my family and wondering how mama was doing and where they were. Sometime around 2am, it was always difficult to sleep because I would hear people screaming on the hills. So, I would lay down and put my hands behind my head because there wasn’t any pillow and I would listen to screaming on the hills, soaked, cold and exhausted. The whole place was quiet, dogs barking all the time.

Tell us: Do you think Benjamin’s mom and sister are still alive?