The Ndi Umunyarwanda (I am Rwandan) initiative that is being fronted by the government and promoted by various civil society groups aims to encourage people at all levels to discuss identity in relation to our horrific history.  When it was initially brought to the fore by the now-Member of Parliament Edouard Bamporiki during the June YouthConnekt forum, I questioned many aspects of it. As I wrote at the time, ‘ While my legal training will not allow me to be comfortable with the idea of someone taking responsibility for the crimes of another, if an innocent party feels that apologising for a family member’s crime will help them heal and move forward, who am I to say that they can’t? And if they don’t want to, no one can force them to. Honestly, ANY idea that helps us heal is a good one. Even if it heals a single person’s shattered heart, I’m all for it’. I’m not going to talk about that issue per se. I want to talk about that word, ‘Ndi Umunyarwanda’  I find the phrase ‘Ndi Umunyarwanda’ extremely interesting. Beyond the initiative that has become the talk of the town, it got me trying to articulate what being ‘Rwandan’ meant to me in a philosophical sense.  I mean, legally, being Rwandan simply means having been born in Rwanda, become a naturalised citizen or having had a Rwandan parent. Which is as simple as simple can be.However beyond the matter of a Rwandan passport or an ‘indagamuntu’, I’ve been wrestling with the idea of what my identity means to me and how and why I’ve come to choose that identity. As someone who was born in one foreign country (Uganda), raised in another (Canada) and finally settled in Rwanda (after 1994), I should be confused about where I stand. But I’m not. I’m always proudly Rwandan before all else. With me, it’s a case of Rwanda ‘über alles’ (Rwanda above all else). Why was this so?Certainly not because of our great wealth (for we practically have none despite our economic gains). Not because of our athletic prowess. Not because of our cultural superiority (despite the efforts of our museums and National Ballet troupe). And certainly not because of our great and storied history. Why I feel so proud to be Rwandan is simply because of our political leadership. It is as simple as that. They’ve set the tone and we’ve marched to that beat. They are the ones who encouraged women to get out of the kitchen and into the boardrooms. They are the ones who instituted policies that ensured basic education for all. They are the ones who insisted that our voices would be heard over the din in international bodies. They are the ones who insisted that Kigali stayed clean and safe. I’m proud that they gave people the legal and infrastructural frameworks to improve their lives. And I’m doubly proud that my fellow countrymen have seized these opportunities and run with them. I wish I could say that I had an innate sense of ‘Rwanda-ness’ but I didn’t. Perhaps it was because I was raised in exile. But my journey from being simply an identity card holder to a fully-fledged Rwandan took place in tandem with my nation’s growth from a basket-case to shining light on a hill. If things hadn’t worked out I’m afraid that I would have chosen another identity to cleave on to. It is sad. But true. So, to all the people who made it possible for a lost soul like me to have a place to call my own, I thank you. While I know that a bright future isn’t guaranteed by any means, the mere fact that they’ve been able to give millions of Rwandans something to swagger about will come in good stead while we navigate the choppy waters in the future. What they’ve given us cannot be taken away anymore.We know who we are and what we stand for. So when I say ‘Ndi Umunyarwanda’, I feel proud to be a part of such a great community of people. Rwanda über alles. The writer is a New Times journalist currently pursuing a post-graduate degree.