COULD this man dressed in the absurd prison uniform, a pink pyjama-suit and flip-flop sandals, really be the author of 800,000 deaths? Or maybe only 400,00 or 200,000?
For shaven-headed Mr Froduald Karamira (49) was not only a leading political force at the time of the killings in 1994. By all accounts, he also functioned as a sort of Rwandan "Lord Haw-Haw", making daily radio broadcasts in which he repeatedly called on Hutus to kill Tutsis.
Yesterday, this silver-tongued publicist stood mute before the judge, leaning casually against the witness stand for the 3 1/2-hour duration of the hearing as though he were waiting for a bag of chips.
Ironically, Mr Karamira was originally a Tutsi from the town of Giterama, but abandoned this identity to "become" a Hutu.
He struggled hard to prove his new-found credentials by becoming a prominent extremist, "more Hutu than the Hutus themselves".
According to African Rights, he is widely regarded in Rwanda as having been one of the men most dedicated to fanning the flames of hatred between the two communities. His most inflammatory broadcasts were made on the notorious Radio Milles Collines, the station which worked its listeners up into a frenzy with its catchphrase: "the graves are only half-full; help us fill them".
Karamira combined his broadcasting career with political ambitions, rising to become deputy head of the Hutu-led Democratic Republican Movement. Neither activity did any harm to his business interests, which were said to be considerable.
After his allies in the genocidal regime were defeated, Mr Karamira fled to India. He lived there until last June, when the Rwandan authorities tracked him down and secured his deportation. He escaped a second time in Addis Ababa airport in Ethiopia, but was caught after three days and extradited.
Behind him in the court yesterday sat the witnesses to the slaughter, those fortunate to escape the killing of their families, friends and neighbours, those brave enough to give evidence in a country where witnesses are being killed on a daily basis.
About 30 witnesses were called to the stand, but only to identify themselves.
My neighbour on the pew told, me his story afterwards. "The radio was crazy. It was calling for blood to flow. They came in the night to the house of my family. My cousin was killed, also his wife and their children," says Calliste, from Kimisagar, a commune in Kigali. Calliste himself was attacked with machete blows which still scar his wrists today. "Now, I have come to see justice. That man gave the orders. He told the Interahamwe to attack us," he says, pointing a shaky finger in the direction of Mr Karamira.
The accused was unable to find a Rwandan lawyer willing to represent him, so Mr Paul Katito had flown in from the west African state of Benin only two days ago.
Mr Katito made an impassioned plea for justice from "my fellow Africans", a call which drew derisory whistles from the packed courtroom.
More pertinently, Mr Katito pointed out that he had not had time to examine the files, and pleaded for a 14-day adjournment to prepare his defence.
Previous genocide cases have been dispatched in double-quick time, leading to criticism from human rights organisations.
Mindful perhaps of these criticisms, and the heavy presence of the international media, the courts in Kigali agreed to the defence's request for an adjournment. Lawyers for the witnesses - the court's procedures are closer to French law than Irish law - also agreed to the delay, saying they wanted witnesses currently in jail to testify before the court.
Mr Karamira faces the death penalty if he is found guilty at the next sitting later this month.
Since last December, when Rwanda's current Tutsi-led government began trying war crimes suspects, two people have been sentenced to death and four other death sentences have been requested. Among those tried are teachers, local administrators and one male nurse.
