There is a silence here that is more than the absence of noise. This is the quiet of death and abandonment. We pass empty cabin after cabin. Outside most of the buildings are scattered pots and pans and broken furniture, the scraps of clothing the occupants could not carry when they fled. The cabins are build from mud with roofs of thatch or corrugated iron.
The people of this area were Hutus who fled before the advancing rebel armies in the previous few weeks. Before that at least some of them had joined the slaughter of their Tutsi neighbours. Some of the houses here belong to Tutsis who will never come back to reclaim them.
From Season of Blood. A Rwandan Journey by Fergal Keane. Images by Dave Fullerton