Guinea is on high alert. At the international airport, travelers' temperatures are monitored for signs of infection. In the capital city of Conakry, people rarely shake hands and are advised to regularly wash their hands with bleach-diluted water.
This is what life is like nearly three weeks after an outbreak of the deadly Ebola virus.
After a minute of silence at noon, Monday's remembrance of the 20th anniversary of the Rwandan genocide began with testimony from a survivor.
The screaming started soon after.
In the crowd of 30,000 gathered in Amahoro stadium in Kigali, the Rwandan capital, first this person then that began to wail and thrash. Men in yellow vests took them to a special room of mattresses in the stadium basement.
In general, Rwandan culture discourages such outward displays of grief. But not during this time of year, when traumatic flashbacks are common.
It's been 20 years since the Rwandan genocide, in which political ideology and ethnic hatred gave license to thousands of Hutus to kill Tutsi families. But ethnic ideology may not have unleashed the genocide if the international community had not stepped back and allowed it to happen.
One notorious episode of abandonment changed forever the role of the United Nations peacekeeper. Early in the morning of April 7, 1994, thousands of Tutsis began arriving at a school on the outskirts of the capital, Kigali, seeking the protection of Belgian soldiers stationed there for the U.N.
Paul Rusesabagina is a figure from history — a terrible history.
He was the manager of the Diplomat Hotel in Kigali, Rwanda, 20 years ago, when the genocide of Rwanda's Tutsi people began. More than 800,000 Tutsis and moderate Hutus would be killed in just three months.
On International Women's Day last month, Afghan presidential candidate Ashraf Ghani held a rally in Kabul attended by several thousand women. While they were all wearing headscarves, there was not a full-length burqa to be seen in the crowd. And the Western-educated Ghani did something highly unusual in Afghanistan: He let his wife, Rula, a Lebanese-American Christian, address the crowd.
Today's episode of World Cafe features a couple of sparse, dry, angular and beautiful songs, performed live by the band Tinariwen. The group, made up of musicians from the Tuareg tribespeople of Northern Mali, has been making music together since 1979. Known for long, trance-inducing concert performances, the band has become increasingly revered in the West. Tinariwen's 2012 album Tassili even won a Grammy.
Doctors Without Borders has called the current outbreak of the Ebola virus in Guinea "unprecedented" — not because of the number of victims (so far at least 78 have died) but because the disease has traveled to various parts of the country.