As soon as I saw the title of Philip Gourevitch's book about the killings in Rwanda, We Wish to Inform You that Tomorrow We Will Be Killed With Our Families, I knew I wanted to write a song on this subject, a conviction that became much stronger when I read the book. The title comes from the words of a letter written by a group of Tutsi ministers to the head of their mission, a Hutu, to ask him to intervene to save their lives. His response was "Your problem has found a solution: you must die." I think one reason Gourevitch took that line for his title was that the killings were so widespread and systematic that many of the victims actually knew when they were likely to be killed, and still were unable to prevent it. One interesting aspect of the book was that the Rwandan holocaust had its own "Schindler" figure, a Hutu named Paul Rusesabagina, who hid Tutsis in his hotel, bribed the government officials responsible for the genocide, played them off against each other, and otherwise did whatever it took to save as many lives as he could-- almost a thousand people who otherwise would probably have been killed. Most of the other people and organizations who could have done something to stop or slow the genocide-- in particular, the U.S. government and the United Nations peacekeeping and relief organizations-- did not distinguish themselves nearly as well, in many cases actually making the problem worse. By the end of the book, however, Gourevitch finds some reasons to hope that the future might be better for Rwanda, in spite of its past. I hope he is right. In any event, I strongly recommend reading the book, and if your library doesn't have it, here is a great place to get it.
VERSE 1:
Just one page, a few lines -- the
letter came from a time and a place far from the world's eye;
And the man with it now had then told the writers how the
solution was simple: "You must die."
So the bullets flashed, the machetes slashed, until almost a
million were slain;
But though no one was saved, their voice from the grave still
calls out to us once again:
CHORUS:
We wish to inform you that tomorrow we
will be killed, with our families.
The promise of all of these young lives will go unfulfilled.
Now the world turns its face from the deaths in this place, and
the media voices are stilled,
So you'll all go on with your own lives - but we will be
killed.
VERSE 2:
He ran the hotel, where he learned to
buy and sell the souls of those who would otherwise be dead.
But when told he was brave, for the lives that he'd saved, "I
just refused so many things," was all he said.
You might wonder why he was the only one to see that lives in
danger still could be saved;
Why the bishops and priests, and the U.N. relief, let so many go
straight to their graves.
CHORUS
BRIDGE:
Now this story is bleak, but when you
hear people speak of some who refused to sell out their friends,
You think there might still be hope, amid the bodies and the
smoke, this story might have a better end than
…
CHORUS
END:
So you'll all go on with your own
lives... but we will be killed.
Questions? Comments? Please send e-mail to jbearden@ieee.org
Material Copyright © 1998-2003 by Jim Bearden