In January 1997, I was part of a non-governmental fact finding tour to eastern Africa. While in Rwanda I visited the genocide memorial in Ntarama. Once, it was a church.

During April to June, 1994, despite credible and urgent warnings from religious and civilian leaders, almost a million Rwandans were killed by their fellow citizens. Extremist Hutus murdered moderate Hutus and every Tutsi they could find. This church, first sought as sanctuary by those seeking safety, eventually became a killing ground as Tutsi parishioners were betrayed by their Hutu Priest, and then massacred by Hutu soldiers who were “simply following orders”.

This Holy ground absorbed the blood of thousands of innocents slaughtered.

Set in the calm of a verdant tropical landscape, the uphill approach to Ntarama is marked by the cheerful sound of a wide variety of songbirds. Yet one senses the lingering sense of evil. When I arrived two years later, the results of premeditated and systematic extermination were evident. In the simple structure lay the blood matted clothes and belongings of those seeking sanctuary. Some remains still lay where they died. With each breath, I was filled with the smell of these victims last anguished moments. The odor of genocide leaves an indelible impression.

Outside stood a rude hand built shed wrapped in blue tarpaulin repeatedly emblazoned with the logo of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees. Occupying the center of this small place is a table covered with 600 skulls.

During the 20th Century the word genocide has become too common. Armenia, Auschwitz, Cambodia, Bosnia, Rwanda are part of the World’s lexicon of horror and shame. As a response to these holocausts, “Never again” will mean less and less until the international community learns to proactively engage justice for peace.

The following graphic images of Ntarama are offered as a reflection and in memory of all who have lost their lives because of their color, their features, their faith or the spelling of their name.