The year was 1995, the month May. My family and I had come to Rwanda five months prior, just like hundreds of thousands of other returnees. My primary education had been in Uganda, where I hoped to continue my secondary schooling.

That morning, my dad told me to pack a few things; he had heard of an Anglophone school in Ndera where I would continue my studies.

I didn’t know what to expect. Upon arrival at the school, we were greeted by an imposing, larger-than-life man with a booming voice. "Niko sha, witwa nde?” he asked. I told him my name, how I had excelled in primary school, etc.

He firmly took hold of my arm and led me to Senior One class. I sat at the back of the class, marking the beginning of a six-year-long education under one of the most remarkable educators I have ever known, Andrew Kalisa.

When the Liberation War ended in July 1994 and the genocide against the Tutsi was halted, Rwanda was left in tatters. Every sector of the economy had collapsed, and education was no exception.

It required not only investment but also experienced and visionary individuals who could rebuild it from the ground up. Andrew Kalisa was one such person.

He had owned a secondary school in Masaka, Uganda. When Rwandans began returning to their homeland, his foremost concern was education. His first questions were: "How will they get educated?" and "Who will educate them?"

Without hesitation, he sold his well-established school in Nakyenyi, Masaka, and moved to Rwanda with his family. Together with a few friends and parents, he founded Groupe Scolaire APRED-Ndera for both Anglophones and Francophones. This school became our home.

Reflecting on those early years, resources were scarce. Chalk, teachers, and food were in short supply. Yet, we always felt secure under Headmaster Kalisa’s care. He treated us like his firstborns, ensuring we were well taken care of despite the challenges.

School fees were often a struggle, but Kalisa’s patience was unwavering. It wasn’t uncommon to find someone in Senior 4 who owed some money from back in Senior 1 second term. As long as we performed well and weren’t troublemakers, a.k.a. "imisega,” we were good.

Kalisa wasn’t in education for profit. His passion was to nurture us into future leaders. He wanted more of us to be engineers and doctors because that’s what the country needed for reconstruction, he would say.

From dawn to dusk, he was tirelessly involved in every aspect of school life, be it in the classroom, office, or kitchen. His dedication and pride in our accomplishments were palpable.

He ruled with tough love, tolerating no nonsense. If he were disappointed in you, you felt it. Kalisa understood the sacrifices made to provide us with an education and was committed to our success. He didn’t see us as just students; we were his children. This special bond set him apart.

Many students expelled for disciplinary issues returned, seeking his forgiveness and a second chance. He almost always took them back in; such was his kindness.

Kalisa’s reputation as a tough yet fair disciplinarian spread far and wide. Strangers often inquired about Ndera School, curious if it was at the mental institution (CARAES), at the seminary, or whether it was "Kwa Kalisa." The respect he commanded was immense.

Kalisa set high academic standards. As Christine Asiimwe mentioned in a previous article, and others have shared in different tributes that continue to come in, he taught Chemistry, and his classes were essential for all students from Senior 1 to Senior 3.

Even those in the Arts knew his famous words about purifying copper by electrolysis complete with a chemical formula. "You can purify copper by electrolysis where the anode loses mass as copper dissolves and the cathode gains mass as copper is deposited.”

Under his leadership, APRED-Ndera excelled academically and continues to do so today. In my class of 2000, we had the best student nationwide. The same level of excellence was pursued in sports, debate, traditional dance, etc.

Kalisa also respected our freedom to worship. The Catholics were free to go to the nearest church for their service. Evangelical and Pentecostal students invited their pastors to the school church on Sundays, and Adventists had their services on the Sabbath.

For the latter group, he accommodated their needs, excusing them from "Umuganda" on Saturdays and assigning their portion on Sundays.

He joined us in celebrating the end of each school year with a dance called "Boom." Before we had a hall, we danced in the staff room. Picture a small room full of sweaty teenagers dancing to the latest Koffi Olomide’s tunes, DJ Scooper, 90’s rap, and some slow jams; he sometimes joined right in and encouraged us to enjoy ourselves.

When it was time to end, he firmly ensured it did, often unplugging the music system if he had to.

We are deeply saddened by his passing. A giant has indeed fallen. Yet, we find solace in the memories we shared and the impact he had on our lives. Every student who passed through APRED carries Kalisa’s DNA in them. He lived by his principles every day, and for us, growing minds, that was invaluable.

To Mama Thatcher and all the children, we extend our heartfelt sympathies. This is a profound loss for our family, and we pray for God’s strength to be yours in this time of grief. His legacy lives on in the hearts of all he touched. To the APRED Ndera family, mukomere.

As a man who loved and served his country passionately, we should all strive to follow his example. Winston Churchill once said, "We make a living by what we get. We make a life by what we give." Let us all go out and give as he did.

Rest well, HM Kalisa.

The writer was a student at Groupe Scolaire APRED-Ndera, class of 2000.