In the morning, Steve and I go to Gashora primary school to observe an English lesson. Upon arrival, Big Dog peers out from his classroom to wave hello and present us with his indescribable smile.
We will never leave Nyamata,
the blasted black iron
and red beaded rosaries
where hopes and prayers
were placed, pews piled
with shredded shirts; "I swear
I saw that dress on Alice yesterday."
Bodies below ground, roses above,
remains of a heroine to remind us:
never forget Nyamata.
-Anonymous from our group