May 24th, 1994

Dear Diary,


It is May 24th of 1994, in the mid day and my family and I haven't eaten anything for a few days now. Once in a while we find something on the ground to eat, but I don't know how much longer I can last. Earlier today we were loaded onto another truck with about ten other people and we all had to squish into the tailgate. I didn't feel comfortable because a boy was sitting on my foot the whole time and we were exposed out into the open, so I was hoping a stray bullet wouldn't get near any of us. However, none of us could leave without showing the soldiers our tribal cards, which lets them know who we are. My father carried all of them for us and gave it to the man, who quickly snatched them out of his hand. With a mean glare in his eyes, he ripped up the cards and screamed, "I don't care about this! I don't care who the hell you are! Do you think I care? It doesn't matter anymore! Get in the truck!" I was petrified and I could tell my dad was too. I didn't expect that reaction at all from him. I thought that we would have to stay there where it wasn't safe. I'm just glad we were allowed on. After that episode of his, we started driving away and didn't dare to ask where we were headed, afraid of that man lashing out again. An hour passed and I saw something strange coming up in the road ahead. I noticed the smell becoming unbearable and then realized- they were DEAD BODIES! It was such a horrible sight that I couldn't bare to look at. Thankfully, Zike was sleeping and unaware. The drivers slowed down, but kept on driving right over them like they were dirt on the road. It didn't phase them at all that those people were innocent- plain innocent! I don't think they deserve to be run over at all. Everyone should have respect for others- that was what I learned in school. At first I thought I would get used to the smell, but then it began to suffocate me. It seemed as though we were driving over them for miles and miles and I didn't know when the misery would end. I wanted the man to drive faster so it would be over with quicker. It eventually wore off enough so I could rest. I ended up sleeping for hours and woke up when we arrived at Byumba (my dad saw a sign that said so a ways back). A man there walked up to us and asked us if we wanted any food. My father of course said yes. He went somewhere to get the food, but he hasn't returned yet. Since then I have been waiting patiently against an old cement wall on the side of the road with my family and a couple of other stragglers who were not on the truck. It is getting dark and very windy, but I hope the food will come because it will make everything seem a little bit brighter.

~Kehinde