My heart pains me greatly. The distressing scenes I’ve witnessed over the past seven months linger in my mind. They haunt me everywhere.
I will share one painful memory with you. One among so many.
It was the beginning of the genocide, one of the frightening days in October, when I had already been displaced for a first time and was staying at my grandmother’s house near al-Shifa hospital.
I went to the hospital one day to buy some personal items since I had left everything behind at home. But I couldn’t bear the sight or the smell. It was awful. There were thousands of people in the hospital corridors, spilling out of the entrances, sleeping on the ground under the sun.
They thought they were finding safety.
In the hospital yard, there were markets, barbers, vendors and the smell of death. ….more
