Genocide

What is genocide?  What a strong, frightening word.  Wiki has it as a “deliberate killing of a large group of people, usually ethnically motivated.”

Last week, after work, some of my Tanzanian hospital co-workers gathered for tea in one of the exam rooms.   I was getting to know one of them.  A very sweet serene woman, in her 50’s.  She works in the maternity ward.  I was asking her about her life.  I asked her if she was married, she answered that she was widowed.   She said that she had been for “twenty years or so”.   I guess it was nervy of me, but I’m used to asking people questions when I do intakes, so I asked her, “do you mind if I ask how he died?”  I have found most people like to share past griefs and it gives them comfort talking about it.   But, her serene expression left her countenance, and her face became very cloudy.  She grimaced deeply.  “I don’t like to talk about it” she said with finality.

I quickly changed the subject, I hoped to a more pleasant topic.  I asked her, “do you have any children?”  She brightened slightly, but said briefly, “Yes, but they have returned to Rwanda, I am Tutsi, you know.”

Now, I may be adding 2 + 2 here, and getting 5, but I would think it would be safe to assume this quiet lady may well have been involved in the Rwanda Genocide.  Rwanda is next door to Tanzania.  In fact, the Rwanda Genocide Trials were held, and are still currently being held right here in Arusha.  Many Rwandan refugees came to this country of Tanzania to escape the terror of this genocide.   In 1994, in 100 days, approximately 900,000 Tutsi’s and moderate Hutus were wiped out in a ethnic war between the Hutu’s and Tutsi’s.   This was 5 times the “killing rate”, if you can use those despicable words, than the rate the Nazi’s used during the Holocaust.  And most of it was done by neighbor to neighbor, using machetes.

I was aware of this event when it happened back in 1994.  I was safe in my home in Salem, Oregon, raising my sweet little family.  My youngest just 4 years old.  I watched the news as the events came out slowly and was horrified.  But — it was a horror watching the events from my TV, sitting in my soft armchair, secure in my own small isolated world.  Then when the movie, “Hotel Rwanda”, came out, I was again struck by the tragic events.  It made it seem all the more real to see this “Hollywood” version.  Hollywood often exaggerates stories to make a more dramatic movie.  But certainly not in this case.  Nothing could make it seem worse than it really was.

But here is reality.   How can this beautiful, beautiful place, meaning East Africa, and sweet loving friendly people, devolve into such atrocities?   This is Tanzania, not Rwanda, but it too is strongly affected by this past.  That event was long boiling, for many historical reasons which I won’t go into now.   But, to look at this woman, her life changed forever, and feel its absoluteness.  Again, words fail me.

Yesterday we had another HIV mother diagnosed in my exam room.  This one broke down in tears.  She clearly had been in some state of denial.  Denial of both her pregnancy and possible HIV status.  She has 2 little babies at home, age 9 months and 20 months.  She didn’t know how far along she was, I measured 29 centimeters, so likely about 6 months.  Bruises on her face and body.  She said her husband doesn’t want this baby.  Alodia comforted her and tried to counsel her.   All I could do is look on and say, “Pole, pole” (Sorry, sorry)

You know, I can come here, spend my 4 weeks here, give what care I can.  But, I am going home.  Again, to my soft armchair, sweet little family, and watching world events on the TV.   The people here live their lives.  Go on.  Smiling.  Laughing.  And crying.  I know my impact is small in their lives.   But, their impact on mine is beyond measure.