So we had a microscopic lie-in today before piling into a 'coaster' bound for the town centre. The weather is so un-British here that it is hard to imagine how cold it was before we left for Africa.
This is my second visit to the Genocide museum, but this time we are closer to the 6th April anniversary of the Genocide's commencement. Everywhere around us there are people wearing the purple ribbon that is symbolic of those who lost someone during the Genocide.
From over the brow of a hill, in amongst the memorial gardens, there is the sound of music. As I peer over the edge I can see around ten women wearing identical pastel-blue dresses. They are stood facing one of the mass-tombs with an immediate crowd of around them of around three hundred people, all wearing purple. Many more, people removed from the sorrow such as us, people busy working such as the Rwandan policewoman with her rifle stood next me, and gardeners tending to the plants are all stock-still listening to the music.
The songs they are singing I cannot understand, but it doesn't make them any less moving. Everyone is silent whilst watching. All silent.