Dearest Joy, apparently, you passed on sweetheart. But in General Paul Kagame’s Rwanda, mourning the loss of our dear beloved ones is not allowed. Nobody in Rwanda dared to pronounce your passing dear Joy. You have gone to a better world, joining your brother and hero to many Rwandans – Fred Gisa Rwigema. May you Rest In Peace Sweet Joy. I now cite, for you Sweet Joy, one of my most favourite poems by Mary Frye:
I Did Not Die
Do not stand at my grave and forever weep.
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn’s rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and forever cry. I am not there. I did not die.