Tuesday, 20 March 2012

Eight Hundred Thousand Hills

In 1994 I lived with my father, every morning he liked to listen to the radio...
One morning he woke me, looking very scared. He said we had to leave right away, i asked why...he said "they are coming to cut down the tall trees."
As we ran from our village he held the little radio to his ear...behind us I could hear people that I knew screaming.


That night we slept in a ditch outside our village...
Then my father went to find food...he never came back
Later I crept back to the village. The bodies of my neighbours lay outside their houses...being eaten by dogs...
For ninety days I hid in the well behind our house.The water meant i had to sleep standing up...Only sometimes did hunger make me brave enough to try to find some food.
One night I was spotted by some militia men, they weren't much older than me...when they saw me theey said, "look cockroach"...
I ran away...but one man caught me with his machete...I fell down...
...and they took turns raping me as i died...seventeen of them...i counted
Thats how i left Rwanda....The End

 Above, a short story page for Andrew Kerr, this piece is telling the story of a young girl in Rwanda in 1994. Illustration Matthew H. Smyth, words Andrew Kerr



No comments:

Post a Comment