How Old Were They? Where Are We Now?
We sometimes intentionally sidestep the frightening thought — or we simply don’t want to count.
For the international community, their lives didn’t matter, but for us, those fragrant souls are always our adorable guardian angels whose parenthood was hacked to death in 1994 by génocidaires while the rest of the world was celebrating the inauguration of Nelson Mandela and the FIFA World Cup in the USA.
It’s late last night that he started counting but froze halfway — he dare blink an eye and voilà himself on the same age with his father when he and scared stiff faithfuls were burned alive inside a church, kneeling in front of a large cross.
But what have we done? What have we achieved along the decades? Where are we now? Are we heading in the right direction they paved for us before life did us apart? Are we illuminated by the starlight of their legacy or not?