Cecile Nyirabahutu’s tale takes you back in time. A time, in her life and in the not so distant past, of impoverishment and resignation. Like a sailor with a battered boat and a broken oar amidst the eye of a violent storm. Hopelessness was all around her. A resident of Rwebeya village, Kabeza cell, Nyange Sector in Musanze District, Nyirabahutu , 47, lived a life of pauperism. It was like a life of suffering had courted and won her over. She is considered to be from the historically marginalized of Rwanda, if history is your bag."When I got married at age 14, we put up a shelter with my then youthful husband in Rwebeya village. But as time went by, our house became dilapidated and my  husband was so much involved in hunting to do any repairs,” she starts with a creasing frown registering on her now aging face.The mother of seven then continues: "The situation worsened and our house of two tiny bedrooms became almost a cowshed. The would-be support pillars grew into slanting, tired objects. And then leaking. When it rained, droplets squeezing through the grass roof at times would turn into streamlets at the floor and collect to form small dirty ponds.” "The children used to sleep on the floor, so when it rained I had to protectively embrace the young ones, here in my chest, guarding them from the biting chills and giving  them some warmth. The older ones could stand until it (rain) came to pass.”So why wasn’t the husband taking any responsibility of repairing the house? To this Nyirabahutu  gives a half-witted smile, slowly shaking her head and continues; "He had got so much involved in hunting. From morning to evening. And every day. If it was not hunting, then drinking the local brew—Ikigaje.”Then how could she  take care of the kids and herself? Charity. Chance. Casual work. "I would go begging all the time. At other times I could get small casual jobs of between Rwf200-500. On a few occasions we could dance for the tourists and get some little money. But even then, I could end up immersing myself into illicit drinking. I did this to get some sleep. My thoughts were always scattered. My clothes always tatters. My children always in need.” It was a thick raging poverty that haunted Cecile and her family.To Nyirabahutu , the idea of having children was wonderful, but the reality of motherhood was devastating. All the time, she says, she had an assailed chain of thoughts rotating on how best she could take care of her children. "When a child got sick, I could just go to the health center and sit there all day until a nurse or a medical personnel felt for me and offered to help.” It was that bad.That life of resignation into paucity was not to be forever. In 2007 Julie Ghrist from the USA started an NGO—the Art of Conservation. Through the organization, Ghrist introduced residents of Nyange Sector to the best practices of environmental protection. Nyirabahutu happened to attend one of the sessions held in Rwebeya Village on how simple green technologies could be used to conserve the environment, extract wealth and change one’s life.This was it. Nyirabahutu  read the radar, grabbed the opportunity, boarded the boat and, as they say, the rest is history. "I wanted to change my life. I wanted to live like a normal human being. Deep inside me I knew I was not cut out to be a pauper,” she says reflectively with a knowing half-smile, accompanying it with a slow gesture of a fist, now migrating into another region of self-confidence.Valerie Akuredusenge, a social worker with Art of Conservation says Nyirabahutu  was determined to see a difference in her life. "Three months after the training session, she came to our offices in Musanze and asked if she could be helped to start doing something. The Director promised to give a hand. She was taken to Rumangabo in the DRC and got training in the making of briquettes and charcoal saving stoves.”The Art of Conservation helped her acquire a press machine, used in making the briquettes, which she installed at her home. And production ensued. "I can make about 100 briquettes in a day. A briquette goes for Rwf20. The raw materials I use are from organic waste, saw dust and waste paper.”Nyirabahutu is now living her dream and more. "I have been able to build a 3-bedroomed house, iron roofed of course, cemented floor and furnished with good furniture. I sleep very well. I eat well. My children live very well. It is something I always longed for. They go to school and we are all insured in the mutuelle de Sante,” she enthuses. Cecile has an exotic cow which has calved. "Milk, in the past, was a very distant ring. Now we have enough of it, share with neighbours and sell some.”And, wait my friend, wait and hear what Nyirabahutu has to say about how her life has become a budding model of excellence. "I have attended conferences in Arusha, Tanzania. I went there to share my experience on briquettes making. And I went by plane. Do you get what I mean? By plane from Kanombe to Arusha,” she says with an aura of pride, confidence and satisfaction.The Ministry of Trade and Commerce has too recognized Cecile Nyirabahutu’s total permutation. "The Ministry (MINICOM) has recognized me as the best innovator from Northern Province in the Hanga Umurimu Project. For that, I was given a bicycle and Rwf200,000. I want to make it even bigger.”Julie Ghrist, the Director Art of Conservation, says Cecile has a lot of potential. "She now takes care of her entire family. Her capacity is scaling up. The business, the leadership skills are all being polished. It is a process, but Nyirabahutu has what it takes. She is receptive, never afraid of trying new ideas and her inner trait of creativity is blossoming.”When I find Cecile at the Kigali Serena Hotel during the Kwita Izina Conservation expo, clad in a green kitenge and headgear, grey pearls for a necklace, black open shoes, giving purposeful intricate explanations how she makes the briquettes, I cannot tell, neither can you, that she was once a downcast pauper that lived by accident.Neither does she believe the whole flow of events in her now happy life.    "Sometimes I get to think that I am living a dream of bliss, that I may wake up and find myself in the sorry life I grew up in. But when the day follows night, one day, then two—years, I get assured that am living real life.” So, Nyirabahutu says, she just has to work hard to make sure that she does not slide back into lack.