Powerful gazes turned to the camera, words spoken at the end of silence: portraits of women who were sexually assaulted during genocide, and of the children born of it. During the Rwandan genocide, one of the great tragedies of the twentieth century, large numbers of women were subjected to sexual violence used as a weapon, and some 20,000 children were born as a result, a fact that is still barely known. Many of the mothers live with severe physical and psychological trauma, socially isolated while raising their children, and more than half are said to be HIV-positive. The New York-based photographer Jonathan Torgovnik learned of this reality while on assignment in Rwanda and, deeply shaken, spent three years interviewing and photographing women in this situation as a project of his own. The mothers, standing before a camera for the first time, and their words carry a strength of truth that goes beyond the rawness of the facts. Torgovnik stepped outside the role of photographer, conducting the interviews himself and going on to found the Rwanda Foundation: the book embodies the limits met by someone who tries to photograph while exposed at the point of contact with society, and the possibility that arises from them, that of a bridge between art and journalism. Ryuichi Sakamoto wrote that, heavy as the book is, the beauty of the children's eyes leaves the heart strangely at ease.