Author Biography

Pacifique Irankunda was born in Burundi, a small country in East Africa bordered by Rwanda, Tanzania, and Congo. He came to America at the age of nineteen as a scholarship student at Deerfield Academy in western Massachusetts. His first published work, "Playing at Violence," appeared in The American Scholar and won a Pushcart Prize. Irankunda was awarded a Whiting Creative Nonfiction Grant in 2017. He graduated from Williams College with a degree in psychology and political science. He lives in Brooklyn.

Review

"In this moving memoir, Irankunda recalls living through a 13-year civil war that upended his life in Burundi when he was only 4 years old and contemplates the loss of his country's culture and tradition to the violence."—The New York Times

"There's nothing like a great love song, and Pacifique Irankunda sings a beautiful one here to his homeland and to all those who choose love even in the bleakest of times."—Imbolo Mbue, author of Behold the Dreamers and How Beautiful We Were

"This short memoir, of a boy's life in a far-off and magical but harshly violent world—and of a young man's struggle to make sense of it—is sometimes shocking, often moving, and always fascinating. Pacifique Irankunda's book is hard to put down and impossible to forget."—Evan Thomas, author of First: Sandra Day O'Connor 

"Pacifique Irankunda tells a story of suffering and cruelty that nevertheless has hope and wisdom running through it."—Margaret MacMillan, author of War: How Conflict Shaped Us

"Civil wars bring out the worst in us, for they set neighbors and friends against one another. Yet from a childhood lived in that terrible shadow, Pacifique Irankunda has brought forth a finely wrought memoir and a moving meditation on wisdom and justice." —Adam Hochschild, author of King Leopold's Ghost and To End All Wars

"Pacifique Irankunda has written a lucid and deeply personal history of Burundi's brutal colonization and the thirteen-year civil war of which he is a survivor. But for Burundi and Burundians, Irankunda wants more than survival. Drawing on ancient teachings and traditions and on his mother's extraordinary generosity, his vision for the future is a revelation and a rallying cry we would all, wherever we come from, do well to heed."—Nadia Owusu, author of Aftershocks 

"Unsparing, unsentimental, and as sweet as nectar, this account of conflict in Burundi is offered by a witness who was only a few years old when it began. This memoir of exceptional potency includes as many luminous recollections as painful ones, but the steady example of a visionary mother shines most brightly of all. 'If you have no love,' she told her sons during the long strife, 'you're nobody.' This taut volume may take only a quiet afternoon or two to read, but it will haunt you, I'll wager, for long years to come."—Paul Farmer, chair of the Department of Global Health and Social Medicine at Harvard Medical School

"In this elegant debut, Irankunda recounts how he survived the 13-year civil war that defined his childhood. Irankunda was four in 1993 when he and his family, members of the Tutsi minority, were swept up in the ethnic war that dominated Burundi following the assassination of the nation's Hutu president. . . . [Irankunda has written] a stunning tribute to his land and its people . . . awn intelligent and immensely moving story of resilience."—Publishers Weekly

Review Quote

"This short memoir, of a boy's life in a far-off and magical but harshly violent world--and of a young man's struggle to make sense of it--is sometimes shocking, often moving, and always fascinating. Pacifique Irankunda's book is hard to put down and impossible to forget." --Evan Thomas, author of First: Sandra Day O'Connor "Pacifique Irankunda tells a story of suffering and cruelty that nevertheless has hope and wisdom running through it." --Margaret MacMillan, author of War: How Conflict Shaped Us "Civil wars bring out the worst in us, for they set neighbors and friends against one another. Yet from a childhood lived in that terrible shadow, Pacifique Irankunda has brought forth a finely wrought memoir and a moving meditation on wisdom and justice." --Adam Hochschild, author of King Leopold's Ghost and To End All Wars "Pacifique Irankunda has written a lucid and deeply personal history of Burundi's brutal colonization and the thirteen-year civil war of which he is a survivor. But for Burundi and Burundians, Irankunda wants more than survival. Drawing on ancient teachings and traditions and on his mother's extraordinary generosity, his vision for the future is a revelation and a rallying cry we would all, wherever we come from, do well to heed." --Nadia Owusu, author of Aftershocks "Unsparing, unsentimental, and as sweet as nectar, this account of conflict in Burundi is offered by a witness who was only a few years old when it began. This memoir of exceptional potency includes as many luminous recollections as painful ones, but the steady example of a visionary mother shines most brightly of all. 'If you have no love,' she told her sons during the long strife, 'you're nobody.' This taut volume may take only a quiet afternoon or two to read, but it will haunt you, I'll wager, for long years to come." -- Paul Farmer, chair of the Department of Global Health and Social Medicine at Harvard Medical School

Excerpt from Book

PROLOGUE I find it hard to look back to Burundi, because I have always tried to look ahead. Always. Even as I think these words, looking out my window in Brooklyn, I realize I am nevertheless looking back.I live in a spacious apartment, with six windows facing the water of New York Harbor. It is on the top oor of an apartment building so large it occupies the entire block between Shore Road and Narrows Avenue, next to the Verrazano Bridge. Below Shore Road lies the Belt Parkway. And below the Belt lies the Shore Promenade, and then the harbor, and across the harbor, Staten Island. I like to sit by my living room window, six feet wide, and gaze at the view. I gaze at it every day of the year, and not once have I tired of it. When I lower my eyes, I look at a rose garden and water fountains and trees, and when I lift my eyes, I watch cruise and cargo ships pass by. These ships are enormous, and they come from all over the world--from Europe, Asia, Africa, Australia, and the Caribbean--bringing people and merchandise to New York. Local ferries and small boats and yachts go by faster than the great ships, which move slowly toward the harbor and slowly seaward toward the Narrows. Every cruise ship that passes grabs my attention. When there are no boats or ships out there, I nd myself gazing long and longingly at a distant view. Instead of New York Harbor I see a view from the hilltop in Kigutu, my native village in Burundi. I look out over Lake Tanganyika--the world''s longest lake and second deepest--toward the peninsula of Ubwari, in the dark mountains of eastern Congo. I stare at the distant view and begin to journey back in thought. Then a cruise ship passes in front of me, grabs my attention, brings me back to Brooklyn, and makes me realize, as if awakened from a dream, that I was looking back. And I hear a voice stored somewhere in my mind, telling me not to look back. It is the voice of my brother Honor

Details