The everlasting symbol of love is the heart. (It’s also the most important organ in the body). I decided to honour an extraordinary person, whose name has been changed as I don’t have permission to use it. The following is loosely based on actual events.
As the bullets ricocheted off the dusty road, the Aid worker lay over two young children to protect them. Fear coursed through his body, not for his own life but that of the kids he tried to shield. A projectile slammed into his back and an unbearable agony radiated outwards from the wound. He just had time to check the youngsters before blood dribbled from his lips and his eyes closed for the last time.
Twenty-four year old Adam Kentish had travelled to Rwanda six months earlier, after completing a university degree. He settled in the village of Nyange where he worked with the local population. Adam helped the adults with building and farming, assisted the medical team, and spent many happy hours teaching the children and playing with them.
Even on his days off, Adam could be found kicking a football around, playing tag or hide and seek, or reading stories. He loved the children with a passion.
On that fateful day when the rebels moved in, killing men, women and children indiscriminately, his first thought was to safeguard whomever he could.
When his body was sent home, a plaque on his coffin read, ‘A lovely man with a wonderful heart’.