The Belgium Memorial. Out of the places I have gone, the cities I have been to, this is decidedly one of the most impactful places I have ever been. The Memorial is one of the few places in Rwanda that is unchanged from the time of the genocide. Known for not being the most emotional of people, I wasn’t quite expecting how hard this small building and grounds would hit me.
You walk past the gate and there it is, this three-room building, covered in holes from bullet after bullet. This standing memorial to the 10 fallen Belgium soldiers is the living, breathing example of why I hate guns. Chills ran through me and the day was suddenly dark and cold. The tree above was rustling in the wind, causing flowers to fall, like even Mother Nature wept at the sight. The fall of these soldiers was the cause of all Belgium soldiers being evacuated and one of the reasons the UN wouldn’t get involved in the 1994 genocide. This is the first memorial we will be going to to learn and understand what we can of this horrendous event in history.
Each room has photos and line after line remembering the acts of genocide and how important it is to be kind people and kind to each other. That’s the left side of the building. Through the right door, the one surrounded by gaping hole after gaping hole, stands two flags, one plaque, a floral wreath. The interior walls match the outside. These 10 soldiers held their own against an entire squadron for 7 hours with only 2 handguns. After the initial shock wears off, you look to the left and see even more holes, in the ground as well as the walls, to the right is a chalkboard. The chalkboard is covered in writing from the victim’s families 10 years after the genocide. What caught my eye was a simple series of phrases: Pourqoui? Pour qui? Comment? Why? For whom? How?
Why was this necessary? For whom did this serve? How can we help work together to make sure this never happens again?
You walk past the gate and there it is, this three-room building, covered in holes from bullet after bullet. This standing memorial to the 10 fallen Belgium soldiers is the living, breathing example of why I hate guns. Chills ran through me and the day was suddenly dark and cold. The tree above was rustling in the wind, causing flowers to fall, like even Mother Nature wept at the sight. The fall of these soldiers was the cause of all Belgium soldiers being evacuated and one of the reasons the UN wouldn’t get involved in the 1994 genocide. This is the first memorial we will be going to to learn and understand what we can of this horrendous event in history.
Each room has photos and line after line remembering the acts of genocide and how important it is to be kind people and kind to each other. That’s the left side of the building. Through the right door, the one surrounded by gaping hole after gaping hole, stands two flags, one plaque, a floral wreath. The interior walls match the outside. These 10 soldiers held their own against an entire squadron for 7 hours with only 2 handguns. After the initial shock wears off, you look to the left and see even more holes, in the ground as well as the walls, to the right is a chalkboard. The chalkboard is covered in writing from the victim’s families 10 years after the genocide. What caught my eye was a simple series of phrases: Pourqoui? Pour qui? Comment? Why? For whom? How?
Why was this necessary? For whom did this serve? How can we help work together to make sure this never happens again?