The Silence of Jehovah
*In March 2008, a few weeks before the commemoration, I wrote a collection of poetry on Genocide. Entitled *Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow, its raison d’etre remains one of my personal motivations to writing more about Rwanda and the 1994 Genocide against the Tutsi in particular. Today, I am pleased to share one of the 21 poems that define it — and I hope this one piece needs no explanation:
Day and night they precipitated. Any Tutsi alive. Into the bottom of the pit. Their greatest ambition. Men and women, boys and girls; and even babies — plus those in the womb.
The killer did everything they could. Jehovah just kept silence.
Today you see; women live with HIV, infected by the villains — who did the necessary. But Jehovah just kept silence.
He really kept silence.
Hundreds of thousands — more than a million — of people perished. He kept silence. As if nothing was happening. Nothing at all.
But believe that one day, He will speak up; say something. Something even stronger. Stronger than what he would say at that time.
He won’t keep silence forever.