Running the Rift by Naomi Benaron

Running the Rift

Naomi Benaron

Have you seen a news item about an atrocity abroad, thought 'dreadful' then dismissed it? If like me you have, this story will take you to the heart of the Rwandan genocide and call you to account. Seen through the eyes of a young athlete, it spares the reader nothing of its violence and terror. Despite my horror I could not put the book down. The characters are so vivid I had to know their fates, most sad, but there is fragile hope in the end.

Hand over hand he hoisted himself into a densely branched tree. The rough bark pierced his wounded palm. Above him was an abandoned monkey's nest, and he curled inside its stink. Held in the cradle of inter-woven branches, he watched in silence. The Tutsi ran before their pursuers, mute and ragged, the young and the old dragged by the hand or abandoned to fate. Women carried babies in their arms, some clearly dead. Torchlight turned night into an unnatural day.
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