It's a steaming hot day in the Rwandan village of Nyamata, but a cold chill runs through me as I stand in the silent church and listen to Charice Mugabe telling his horrific tale.
"I was just nine years old when I watched my entire family being killed inside this church. The genocidaires arrived on that terrible day, locked the doors and threw in grenades. Then they entered and attacked everyone with machetes, knives, spears and clubs.
"I survived by crawling under a dead body and hiding my head in a small hole in the wall. It was horrible, lying there covered by streams of blood flowing deep across the floor."
It is more than 14 years since that terrible day in April 1994, but the indelible memories are still painful for Charice, who glances sadly around the spacious interior where thousands of people were brutally massacred.
Clothing of the dead lies in heaps on the floor and pinpricks of light filter through holes in the tin roof caused by grenade shrapnel. A rusted machete remains on a display table.
"After two days I crawled out from all the bodies, left the church and went to hide in the bush," says Charice, turning back to face me. "I felt like someone who had died. And for many years afterwards, whenever I saw this place I would start to cry."
The Rwanda of today is a peaceful place, unlike those days of hatred and bloodshed when almost a million people were murdered in the terrible genocide of 1994.
Tourists are flooding into the country, predominantly to see the mountain gorillas, but also to hike in the national parks and relax around the tranquil shores of Lake Kivu.
I'm deeply moved as I walk through the centre, shocked by the pictures and text graphically illustrating the terror and brutality.
There is a cabinet full of bones and skulls, many with fractures where the heads had been hacked with machetes. Touch screens play chilling interviews with survivors. Outside in the memorial garden, 258 000 people are buried in 14 mass graves.
But the most powerful tribute is a room with life-size images of young victims. One of these children was four-year old Ariane Umutoni. Her favourite food was cake and she loved to sing and dance. Ariane was stabbed repeatedly in the eyes and head.
A National Trauma Survey conducted by Unicef in 1995 revealed that 99,9 percent of Rwandan children witnessed violence during the genocide and 80 percent experienced a death in the family.
From Kigali, it's a two-hour drive to Musanze, previously known as Ruhengeri. Musanze is the closest town to Parc des Volcans and a good base from which to experience Rwanda's top tourist attraction, a gorilla trek in the volcanic Virunga mountain range.
I present myself at the park headquarters and meet my guide, Francois Bigirimana, who has worked with the gorillas for 28 years.
There are five habituated gorilla families and I'm assigned to the Susa Group that has 39 members, including four silverbacks and the world's only surviving twin gorillas, Byishimo (Happiness) and Impano (Gift), who were born in 2004.
"Gorillas can catch human ailments so if anyone is sick, they are not allowed to go on the trek," says Francois. "When we find them we must talk in whispers and if the silverback catches your eye, don't keep eye contact, look away."
We start the steep trek up the muddy slopes of Mount Karisimbi and within minutes I'm drenched in sweat and gasping for breath. An hour later we enter the rainforest and Francois gives us some good news.
"Sometimes it can take five hours to find the Susa Group, but today you are lucky because the trackers have told me they are just 30 minutes away from here."
Nothing quite prepares you for your first encounter with mountain gorillas. My pulse quickens as we find the dominant silverback snoozing with some of his clan in a sunny clearing. He wakes up, watches us intently, then grunts contentedly and goes back to sleep.
Suddenly they are on the move and the silverback leads his family through a bamboo thicket. We follow and a few young stragglers come up behind us.
One juvenile gorilla walks alongside me and stops within touching distance. It's a magical moment as the furry creature cocks its head, looks at me inquisitively, then ambles on to join his family.
The next day I take a bus to Gisenyi, on the shores of Lake Kivu. As we crawl up a mountain pass, I look out of the window at the simple beauty of life in rural Africa.
Women carry heavy sacks of charcoal, bags of carrots and bundles of wood balanced on their heads. A sense of calm washes over me and I smile, realising how much I love the simple joys of travelling in Africa.
After checking into Hotel La Bella, I jump on to a motorbike taxi for a scenic ride along the lakeshore to Rubona, Gisenyi's main harbour situated on a pretty peninsula.
I wander down to where the pirogue fishing boats are anchored. An overcrowded water taxi splutters up and disgorges its cargo of brightly clad people, trussed-up chickens, bundles of clothing and heavy sacks of charcoal.
The next day, I hire a taxi and guide for a fleeting adventure into Goma, the neighbouring town across the border in the Democratic Republic of Congo. After negotiating customs, we drive through no-man's land and enter a whole different world.
Goma's dirty streets are hectic, jam-packed with cars, motorbikes and pedestrians. Exhaust fumes and dust flies everywhere. The people here are sullen and the place is fraught with tension brought about by years of civil war.
We drive past several UN vehicles, then I spot an army jeep packed with soldiers wearing camouflage outfits and carrying rocket propelled grenades. This is real heart-of-darkness stuff.
In total contrast, a man dressed in smart dark trousers and a striped shirt saunters past with a guitar slung over his shoulder.
"If you go on to the street to take photographs, please be quick because it's not safe out there," warns our guide Patric. "It would be better if you use your camera from inside the car."
Little boys pedal tchukudos - bicycles made entirely of wood - loaded with heavy sacks of grain and produce.
As we bump along a craggy pot-holed road, Patric points out the lava flow from Mount Nyiragongo's 2002 eruption that cut a path through town before fizzling out when it reached Lake Kivu.
"The town of Goma changed overnight. Thousands of houses were destroyed while cars and streets were covered by lava," says Patric.
"Most residents fled in advance to Gisenyi and nearby villages. Before the eruption, this was the site of many houses. But they were all destroyed and now it is just a lava road."
It's time to start heading south and early the next day we catch a coach from Kigali down to Nyungwe National Park for a few days hiking and chimpanzee trekking.
After checking into the ORTPN Resthouse, I relax on the lawn before an early dinner. I need a good night's sleep as we've got a very early start for the chimpanzee trek tomorrow.
Outside the heavens are clear and stars twinkle in the black sky. It's a two-hour journey to where the hike starts and after joining a Spanish couple in their Landcruiser, we drive in the darkness along a pot-holed road.
The sky starts to brighten and we turn on to a rutted, gut-churning path that curves between sloping tea plantations.
A faint orange light appears on the eastern horizon and curling tendrils of mist rise from the forest.
Finally we arrive at Cyamudongo Forest and set off with our guide, Narcisse Ndayambaje, in search of the chimpanzees.
We descend breathlessly along a slippery slope into the heart of the forest. I walk in silence past moss-covered tree trunks and listen to the sounds of nature. With more than 1 000 varieties of plants, 270 bird species and 127 types of butterflies, there's a lot more to see here than just chimpanzees.
The trackers locate the primates we've come to see in thick vegetation. For two hours we sit waiting, but the chimps are proving elusive. Eventually, they make a fleeting appearance. The females flash across the path with the babies clinging to their hairy stomachs. Finally the alpha male lopes past with a cheeky grin on his face.
Later in the afternoon I visit Gisankura Village, which is a buzz of activity. There are many hiking opportunities in the area and early one morning I set out for the Kamiranzovu Waterfall Trail, which drops 50m.
Time flies and I spend two hours photographing every aspect of the waterfall. The sun shines down and I bask in the beauty of this Rwandan paradise.
