sister Claire, 15, and I had lived with our parents and two other siblings in the capital Kigali. We had a beautiful life that we have not seen or experienced ever since. Like everyone in Rwanda, our lives changed forever in 1994 when what I call “noise” and others call “genocide” broke out in our country. Claire and I were separated from our parents in order to survive. By pure chance we managed to escape the carnage; for the next six years we lived in seven different African countries in and outside of refugee camps before seeking asylum with the International Organ
I Remember Night: In Remembrance of Elie Wiesel
Clemantine Wamariya

Bob Evans ohla.

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