Transcript
Alan C. Stamm (0:00)
Not every sale happens at the register. Before AT&T business Wireless checking out customers on our mobile POS systems took too long. Basically a staring contest where everyone loses. It's crazy what people will say during an awkward silence. Now transactions are done before the silence takes hold. That means I can focus on the task at hand and make an extra sale or two. Sometimes I do miss the bonding time. Sometimes AT&T business Wireless Connecting changes everything.
John Hopkins (0:30)
This episode contains content that some may find distressing. It's late September 2006, in a small village in Rwanda's Eastern Province. The day dawns bright and humid. A woman pulls open the creaking wooden door of her small house and steps out into the sticky heat. As she follows a familiar dusty path through the village, a group of giggling school children rush past and one of her neighbors calls a greeting. She raises her hand in acknowledgement but does not stop. She has no time to linger and chat. Today. The dirt road is fringed with lush green trees, home to a dazzling array of bird species, their raucous cacophony singing into the vivid blue sky. Soon she comes to the wooden pens that house her two dairy cows, her main source of income, especially since the death of her husband. Usually the milking is the first job of the day, but today her daughter is doing it in her place. She calls out to thank her, then continues towards the village center. In the main square, a long table has been set out in the shade with six elders already sitting behind it, sporting distinctive green, yellow and blue striped sashes. This is a Gacaca court and these people, the judges who will determine the fate of the accused due to stand trial today. Rows of straight backed wooden chairs stand before them, already filled with many of the woman's neighbors. She sits down beside an older villager in a vibrant lime green dress and matching head wrap, who gives her a small smile and squeezes her hand. Today is going to be difficult for them all. Now. The chatter of the crowd immediately dies down as a young man in a brown shirt is brought to stand before the chief judge. Some members of the crowd jeer, shouting insults at the man until the chairman calls for quiet. In a booming voice, he lays out the crimes of which the man stands accused the murder of four people during the 1994 genocide. The defendant hangs his head as the judge calls for the first witness. One by one, villagers testify to the violent acts he committed. An old man claims he saw him wielding a bloody machete and entering the church. Someone sobs as they ask him why he killed their son soon it is the woman's turn to stand. Though her hands shake, her voice is firm as she asks him the questions that have tormented her for years. Did he kill her husband? And where is his body? The man looks straight at her. He did not kill her husband, he tells her, but he did watch his body being thrown into the mass grave on the edge of town. Abruptly, the woman sits down. She barely hears as the judge pronounces the man's sentence and he is led away. All she can focus on is the ever present birdsong ringing out into the clear blue sky. For much of the rest of the world, the Rwandan genocide might be disappearing into history, but for her, the horror will never fade. For hundreds of years, Rwanda's Hutu and Tutsi groups had lived in relative harmony. But the arrival of European colonists enforced and exaggerated the differences between them until from the mid 20th century, resentment began to boil over. By 1994, the two groups were sworn enemies. Over 100 days, violence engulfed the country as members of the Hutu majority worked systematically to exterminate the Tutsi. Spurred on by government and military officials, neighbor turned against neighbor, friend against friend, until hundreds of thousands lay dead. But what precipitated this senseless mass killing? Why were so many ordinary people willing to participate? And what responsibility does the international community bear for the bloodshed? I'm John Hopkins from the Noiser Podcast Network. This is a short history of the Rwandan Genocide. The twisted roots of the Rwandan genocide lie in the country's colonial past. Before 1858, this small, landlocked country in East Africa was unknown to Europeans. Although exact patterns of migration and settlement into the region are still debated, for several centuries, it has been home to three the twa, the Hutu, and the Tutsi. The Tutsi, with their large herds of cattle, gain economic and political power and found a monarchy in what is now the territorial heart of Rwanda. Alan C. Stamm is professor of public policy and politics at the University of Virginia.
