A Compelling Book

Now and then I pick up a book that I have a hard time putting down until I finish it. I recently read one that fits that category. It is Left To Tell by Immaculee Ilibagiza.

You probably remember the Rwandan holocaust that took place in 1994. I remember it, but am embarassed at how little I knew about it. Either it didn't get as much news covergage as it should have or else I must have had my head buried a mile deep in responsibilities at the time. Othewise, I can't imagine why I don't remember more about it. In a three month period, nearly one million Tutsi Rwandans were killed in an attempted genocide sanctioned by the government.

Left To Tell describes the mass genocide through the eyes of Immaculee. She and seven other women survived by hiding together at a pastor's house, in a bathroom so small they couldn't all sit down at the same time for 91 days. The house was searched again and again by Hutus wielding machetes that were used to hack Tutsis to death. The people who had been Immaculee's lifelong neighbors and friends were now determined to ruthlessly kill her. In the introduction, she writes:

I heard the killers call my name. They were on the other side of the wall and less than an inch of plaster and wood separated us. Their voices were cold, hard, and determined.

"She's here ...we know she's here somewhere...Find her. Find Immaculee." There were many voices, many killers. I could see them in my mind: my former friends and neighbors, who had always greeted me with love and kindness, moving through the house carrying spears and machetes and calling my name. "I have killed 399 cockroaches,' one of the killers said. Immaculee will make 400. It's a good number to kill."

I cowered in the corner of our tiny secret bathroom without moving a muscle. Like the seven other other women hiding for their lives with me, I held my breath so that the killers wouldn't hear me breathing. Their voices clawed at my flesh. I felt as if I were lying on a bed of burning coals, like I'd been set on fire. . . I wondered what if would feel like when the machete slashed through my skin and cut deep into my bones. I thought of my brothers and my dear parents, wondering if they were dead or alive and if we would soon be together in heaven.

When Immaculee would leave the bathroom after 91 days, she was to discover that her whole family and nearly every friend she had ever known had been killed. The amazing thing about this book is her description of how she came to know God intimately while hiding and how she found the strength to forgive those who killed her family. In fact, at the end of the book she confronts the man who was directly responsible for her family's brutal murder. It was a man they and she had known as a friend for most of their lives. I won't describe it. You'll have to read it for yourself. It brought tears to my eyes.

This book left me thinking, "If she can find the grace to forgive, anybody can." I was deeply moved by her story.

Like many books, you'll have to filter some things you read here. If you're the sort of person who gets offended when you hear or read things you don't agree with, this one isn't for you. But if you are wired so that you are willing to eat the meat and spit out the bones, I think you'll love this book. In other words, this isn't a theology book. But whatever weak theology you'll find here is overshadowed by Immaculee's description of how she encountered God and how she came to love and forgive those who inflicted such savage brutality on those she loved.