After surviving the Rwandan genocide, Samantha sets out to avenge her family.
This book follows the adolescent Samantha Nyamwasa as she travels through a war-torn Rwanda during the genocide of Tutsis in 1994. Samantha survives rape, genital mutilation, and the murder of her family. Despite all her ordeals, she stays strong and is determined to reach her goal, to murder Colonel Patrick Bagosora and avenge her family.
N/A
When I close my eyes, I can still envision those distant days in March ‘94, albeit my memory has faded over the years.
“Samantha, come and play soccer with us.” My brother always joked. Sometimes I obliged, and he always laughed in glee at my clumsiness with the soccer ball, as he was running laps around me. This took place in the soil field next to the river where the children of our village met.
“Yuhi, stop being mean to me!” I remember shouting at my brother. I remember the look of the old worn-out ball, the earthy mud fields and warm rivers, but I cannot remember the face of my brother, just glimpses of a happier time. When I think of my dear brother, I only remember his happy smile, his cute innocence and thundering laughter whenever he scored a goal. It was always a debate between us whenever someone scored a goal, as we didn’t have proper goal posts to determine who was the real winner. We used our worn-out shoes as goal posts and played barefoot instead. This was crucial not to break our old and much-loved shoes any further. They were the only ones that we’ve got, and we needed the shoes for when we helped our parents ploughing the farmlands, to avoid stepping on rocks, or walking on venomous animals. Our school’s sports field was clear of sharp rocks, so why would we wear out our shoes when playing barefoot worked just as well?
I remember coming home after a day in school, which was followed by fishing in the muddy warm river with my dad. We ate umitsuma, a mixed of cassava and corn for lunch and dinner. This was our daily staple. We rarely ate meat, except when one of us were lucky enough to catch a fish or a bird. Our days were joyful; we were poor but at least our poverty brought us together. It was not at all like the cool and modern suburbia I am now living in, after I escaped to Australia as a Rwandan genocide survivor.
| Language | Status |
|---|---|
|
Italian
|
Already translated.
Translated by Andrea Ter
|
|
Portuguese
|
Already translated.
Translated by André Weber
|
|
Spanish
|
Already translated.
Translated by Cristina García
|
