At least every thrice a month, Rwandan children and those whose parents are originally from Rwanda, come together to learn Kinyarwanda, traditional music and dance, and other aspects of culture at Institut Saint-Laurent in Liège, one of the major cities in Belgium.

Under the name Ishuri-Umuco, this cultural school which started in 2019, has an aim to teach young people about their culture in a country where they could easily blend in and lose their identity if no intervention is made.

Aimable Karirima Ngarambe, a journalist, director and sociocultural animator has been reporting about this school ever since it was formed. He told The New Times in an interview that, besides learning about music and dance, the children are taught about Rwanda’s history.

"They learn history through art; they are taught what the lyrics mean, why they hold spears and shields when they are dancing, and all this is a great method that was even used by historical cultural schools. It is a way of teaching the language and Rwandan values,” Ngarambe said.

But it should not come as a surprise that the Rwandan diaspora in Belgium could have such a school, or at least get together to share knowledge on not only the music and dance, but also on Rwandan values like patriotism, nobility and more.

It was actually in Belgium that the likes of Isamaza, Muyango n’Imitali and other cultural troupes that came later like Amarebe n’Imena, were born.

These groups of selfless musicians and dancers produced songs that would later be used by the RPF Inkotanyi to raise funds for the liberation struggle, and sung by soldiers for morale boosting at the frontline.

But what is not often talked about is the cultural wave that hit Rwandan communities in Burundi, Belgium and Uganda in the 1980s where songs about the beauty of Rwanda and the need to liberate the country were echoed.

Songs like ‘Kigali uteye neza kandi utatse ubwiza’ (Kigali, you have a beautiful landscape and decorated with beauty), Nyaruguru, Uraho Rwanda yacu, Umunezero, and others that described Rwanda’s beauty in detail; the mountains, the rivers, the city, the beauty of people, were common in Rwandan communities abroad and made young people wonder how life would have been if they were in their country.

Others like Turaje, Iya mbere Ukwakira, Ziravumera, Izagishe zitashye, Dushengurukanye Isheja and Intsinzi only made them feel like it wouldn’t be for long until they return home. They could see themselves winning after three decades.

There is absolutely nothing that would have stopped the young people from coming home, most of whom hadn’t even been to the country before, or were toddlers when their families fled.

A few years ago, I had a conversation with a relative on what picture he had of Rwanda before he came to the country after the 1994 Genocide against Tutsi.

He laughed hard as he explained how he would look far from where his family lived- which is only a few kilometres from Rwanda, and would only wish the liberation struggle would be faster.

He would see the green hills and would think to himself how he and his brothers would have at least one hill each.

But growing up, I learnt that a good number of refugees who had fled to different countries dreamt of a country they had never seen, and such music played a big role in painting a picture of a country they had to return to.

I remember another informal conversation I had with someone who said his relative took the `` country of milk and honey” sentence way too seriously that he thought they only had to return to the country with jerry cans to fetch the milk and honey. Apparently, when he got to Rwanda, it was his first time to ever spend a night without food.

Although this story may be a bit exaggerated, it wouldn’t be a lie to say some young Rwandan refugees who were scattered in different countries thought of Rwanda to be very beautiful, very green, and with fertile land.

But this is not the case for Charles Murigande, retired diplomat and educator who ended up becoming RPF’s spokesperson in the USA during the liberation struggle, before holding different positions when the party got in power after stopping the Genocide.

"I never thought of Rwanda to be paradise or an extraordinary country. But I felt like it would be great having Rwanda as my country, where I have equal rights like every other Rwandan, where I apply for a passport and I am not given a ‘Titre De Voyage’ (a Convention Travel Document, issued under the United Nations Convention relating to the Status of Refugees) where they say I can go to all countries but Rwanda,” Murigande said.

He added that the more people went to school, the more they understood that Rwanda was a country like the rest of African countries.

"But that becoming Rwandan, that dignity that you are given by having a country and the right to build it, even if it isn’t beautiful, and the understanding that you have an assignment to make it beautiful, is what mattered most. I never thought Rwanda was paradise, but I understood it was my home,” he added.

Murigande’s family fled to Burundi when he was only two years old, and he fell in love with Rwanda through the large Rwandan community in exile.

He told The New Times that on a full moon, they would hold cultural nights (ibitaramo) where different stories about Rwanda, music, dance and other practices were part. He described that young people at that time were taught about Rwanda from a young age.

"We grew up in what was like Rwanda, although we didn’t have the physical country. It made us love the country,” Murigande said.

He later joined Collège St Albert de Bujumbura, a secondary school established by Rwandan students exiled in Belgium and DR Congo for their fellow Rwandan refugees in Burundi.

This school also played a key role in sensitising Rwandan refugees in Burundi to love their culture, because it was Rwandan-led and dominated.

"When this patriotism was combined with how our rights were being suppressed, there was a need to fight for our dignity. And nothing would have dignified us other than returning to our country,” Murigande added.

He shares the same feeling with Albert Rudatsimburwa, seasoned journalist and musician who moved to Belgium in the early 60s, where he would later become very much involved in keeping the culture alive through art.

Rudatsimburwa who had just been born when his family briefly moved to Burundi never saw Rwanda by the green mountains too.

"It was Rwanda as an identity. We were not in Rwanda and where we were, we were not them. For me it wasn’t the physical country but the idea of Rwanda,” Rudatsimburwa explained.

He added that while some Rwandan refugees had blended in different communities, generally, Rwandans had always ‘kept their thing.’

"Wherever Rwandans were, there was Rwanda,” Rudatsimburwa noted.

Nevertheless, he does not think that the culture wave is what led to the liberation, but that it was instead a stage in the liberation itself. Getting together was part of the struggle, he said.

"The struggle would have come at any time. There has never been a doubt about that. Some people may have lost confidence, but in general, the vision was already the struggle,” Rudatsimburwa said.

Indeed, to say there was a time when Rwandans gave up dreaming about returning to Rwanda would be a lie.

The Inyenzi, for instance, who were the first Rwandan refugees to start an armed struggle to return home invaded Rwanda in 1993 from the Burundian border and captured the Rwandan military in camp in Gako, Bugesera where they reinforced with seized arms and recruited locals.

The Inyenzi smoothly marched to capture Kigali when they were stopped at Kanzenze Bridge along the Nyabarongo River by the Garde Nationale Rwandaise (GNR) which routed them with superior firepower.

But the next generation whose spirit was nurtured in refugee camps and other Rwandan-dominated neighbourhoods in different countries would later prove that Inyenzi’s failed attacks were not the end of hope to return home.

Timothée Ngombwa, 77, who claims to have been part of the Inyenzi invasion, believes the Inkotanyi learned from them the importance of returning home.

"The children would hear about what we do, they would hear us when we sang, especially in cultural groups we were training them from. Sometimes we trained them when we returned from fighting. We were all concentrated in areas like Mu Ngagara, and Ku Ibereshi. The children would know where we were coming from, and why we were fighting,” Ngombwa said.

He said that the young ones who would end up in the liberation army enjoyed every single lesson.

Ngombwa’s family moved to Uganda in 1961, right when he was to join secondary school. But because they were Francophone, they were only there for two years before they went to Burundi.

"I found people who sing so well in Burundi, they knew how to hold great cultural nights,” Ngombwa said.

Ngombwa’s family had always had an interest in music, so it was easy for him to start singing in a popular group named Indashyikirwa in 1973, where he composed songs about returning to Rwanda.

He later went for his university studies in Kinshasa where he formed his own group, named Ishyaka in 1976, and believes they did amazing work making Rwandans who had already blended in the Congolese population understand why they needed to keep their identity.

"We sang about Inkotanyi before they were even formed,” he added.

Ngombwa later joined Indahemuka, RPF’s music group that was made up of most of the liberation music icons, Mariya Yohana, Masamba Intore, Kamaliza, and the late Minani Rwema, who gave their best to the liberation struggle.

This cultural identity that urged Rwandans to return home, however, is still relevant, should the milestones be sustained.

"Whether it is the youth today or tomorrow, what will make them fully Rwandan is the Rwandan culture. If they want to have a country they will keep for eternity, they should keep the culture because it is from it that we derive our beliefs, what we fight for and what we can die for if necessary.

"It is also the one that makes us live together and understand that for instance, if our neighbour loses a relative, we comfort them, if they have a wedding, we show up for them,” Murigande said.