My father preached that Easter Sunday, April 3, 1994 The genocide started that Thursday, April 7. My family was killed the following day, on the 8th. That day my mom and baby sister were inside our house. They were killed. My dad was in the neighborhood visiting some sick people and, as he was walking home, he was killed.
My brother was taking care of the goats and cow in the pasture and he was killed there.
My grandmother’s house was next door to us and she was killed there.
Three cousins also lived with us and they were killed that day. My oldest brother tried to flee the country but they caught him and killed him. My third born brother was living in another place with our grandpa and he was too young to have a national ID card. So people did not know he was Tutsi; for that reason he was not killed
I carry this picture because it keeps his memory and spirit alive in me.
Love you, Papa