Slashed heads, gashed faces, the bodies of men, women and children strewn across a remote refugee camp.
Last week's massacre of some 160 Tutsi refugees by extremist Hutus in Burundi was an ugly reminder of what the central African country is up against in its shaky march towards peace.
The killings have tainted what has otherwise been Burundi's promising transition to peace after 10 years of ethnic conflict between rebels from the Hutu majority and the politically dominant Tutsi minority.
Despite its brutality, the slaughter of Congolese refugees by the last rebel group still fighting the government, is unlikely to derail Burundi's peace process, analysts say.
"The Hutu extremists are a nuisance, but their actions will not stop elections from taking place," said Susan Linnee, an Africa expert with the International Crisis Group.
Her optimism is echoed in Gikizi, a Hutu stronghold that was often the scene of deadly clashes between rebels and government troops before a November 2003 cease-fire.
"Elections will happen. Politicians must agree on the different issues," said Claude Massop, an unemployed 32-year-old who lost his father and sister during the war.
"Things here have changed," he said, surveying dozens of homes being rebuilt in the poor suburb.
The cease-fire allowed the main rebel army, the Forces for the Defence of Democracy, to join a transitional government given the job of organising elections by October 31, a deadline that seems increasingly difficult to meet, observers say.
With less than three months to go, Burundi has no independent electoral commission, no electoral law and has not drafted a constitution.
Hutu and tutsi hardliners
The last time Burundi held elections in 1993, the elected president, a Hutu, was assassinated within months by Tutsi extremists reluctant to yield power after dominating politics since independence from Belgium in 1962.
Hutus make up some 85 percent of the 8.5 million people in the coffee-producing country on the shores of Lake Tanganyika.
The assassination perpetuated decades of ethnic bloodletting. Since 1993, the war has killed 300,000 people and forced another 700,000 to flee the country.
"Elections make people scared. Burundians don't have good memories of elections," said Adrien Ndayisaba, a local human rights activist, adding that while Burundi's conflict is ethnically driven, it is ultimately a political dispute.
"In the hills, people live together and share, but because we have a mostly illiterate population, it's easy to influence people.
Our problems mostly come from the political level. Politicians steer people to their agendas," he said.
The current power-sharing agreement provides for a government and national assembly of 60 percent Hutu and 40 percent Tutsi, but Tutsi parties want greater constitutional protection, including a Tutsi vice-president.
Tutsi parties are again threatening to block the agreement despite advances in other areas, such as the key issue of integrating ex-rebel groups into the national army.
Lengthy negotiations have ended most hostilities, but one rebel group, the extremist Hutu Forces for National Liberation (FNL), keeps fighting and claimed responsibility for killing the Tutsis at the refugee camp.
"They're the originals, they were the first out in the field and they will be the last in," said Carolyn McAskie, head of the country's UN peacekeeping mission, which started on June 1.
Glacial progress
Obstacles to elections may seem daunting, but incremental advances have given Burundians and international mediators hope.
"When you're in it, it's like watching a glacier, you can't see the movement, but there has been progress," McAskie said.
On the streets of Gikizi, many of the new mud-brick houses have shiny roofs, the corrugated metal not yet rusted by a season of rain.
Bricks and construction materials are piled on nearly every street corner as returning residents repair homes.
Bujumbura's bars and restaurants are packed and the number of night-clubs - always a mainstay of city life even during the war - is multiplying rapidly. One even offers a karaoke night.
At the beach, new resort-style facilities are springing up and crowds of revellers gather on Sunday afternoons.
Exports of coffee, the main cash crop, worth about 80 percent of Burundi's foreign exchange earnings - are expected to rise this year.
The production of staples such as beans, rice and sugar is also up as farmers return to their fields in greater safety.
"It's still too early for foreign investors to come back, but people are enquiring and showing more interest than we've seen in a long time," said Cyrille Sigejeje, the secretary general at Burundi's Chamber of Commerce.
McAskie expects an electoral commission to be created before September and hopes it can decide independently when elections should be held and whether to prolong the interim government's mandate to avoid a looming political vacuum.
Even with elections, Burundi will still have to grapple with the question of justice and how or whether to prosecute those guilty of war crimes and atrocities, analysts say.
Burundians are enjoying relatively good times, with exiles flocking back from overseas during the northern hemisphere's summer holidays. Many return, however, with a sense of trepidation.
"Nothing will happen here if people on both sides don't let go of the hatred," said Katia Ntibarutaye, a 34-year-old Tutsi who returned recently from Montreal, Canada for an extended family reunion after 13 years away.
She and her Burundian husband hope one day to return to live in Burundi with their three young children.
"I do still worry though because things can blow up at any moment," Ntibarutaye said.