On Saturday night, forty-five minutes before we were supposed to board our flight home from Kigali, an airline agent ushered us from the boarding area. “You’ll need to follow me,” he said in the same broken English he’d used hours earlier when guaranteeing us seats on the standby tickets he issued. I had trusted this as standard procedure for the Kigali airport. Perhaps every passenger was assigned her seat at the gate?
But that was unfortunately naive. Continue Reading