Kigali has been my home for the past 18 years. You know that little phrase "home is where the heart is”? Well here is my tale. My feet have been to a few places and all the while the question that keeps popping up in my mind is, "how does this place compare to Kigali?”Thus I have embraced the fact that my heart belongs right here. This may sound unremarkable but it has not always been that way. When as a 16 year old I first set foot in Kigali, I was certain that this would never be my home. At the peak of adolescence when the world seemed like one giant maze, I was certain of that.All my plans revolved around leaving Kigali ASAP and only making the occasional trip to visit family and the few friends I had at the time. I did eventually succeed in my plans to leave Kigali. When I left, against all logic I craved to return! Each time I returned, I left with an even stronger resolve to make my home elsewhere. This odd game of musical chairs went on till mid 2007.I must have missed that memo that said guys shouldn’t care for romance. I love to smell the flowers and listen to chirping birds. So believe me when I say that my homecoming ride from the airport was a romantic one. In true Shakespearean fashion, it was a forbidden kind of romance. I had all these bottled up feelings that told me I should not fall in love with Kigali. For deep down I knew it would come to nothing. How wrong I was!I saw palms; I heard random humdrum noises as we drove through Giporoso towards Kisementi. An eerie calm descended upon me as we went past Gishushu, the Parliamentary Buildings and gently approached the MTN roundabout. I could not help myself, I was awe struck. As we turned into Boulevard de l’Umuganda, I thought of the 13 years that had gone by since I first came to Kigali. The penny had finally dropped. My heart belonged here, "this is home!”Like all love stories the fire has began to wane. It’s been five long years that feel more like ten years since I got back and where I praised the lack of potholes on our streets, now I complain of unlit streets at night. It has been said that familiarity breeds contempt, I pray it never gets to that on my part. I am just beginning to sense a bit of boredom or is it complacency? I seem to have quickly forgotten the choking dust that filled the air, the dry taps in all but a few households, the body shoving involved in boarding a twegerane taxi all reminiscent of late 1990s Kigali. Whatever the yardstick, there was no dignity in that lifestyle.Like a reminder of what the new Rwanda is all about, I was recently jolted from this boredom into gashing loudly of how proud I am to be Rwandan. As I returned from a short trip to Uganda last weekend, I found myself frantically looking for a pen to fill the usual immigration arrival forms. Failing to find one, I stood and watched other passengers fill their forms hoping to borrow one of their pens once they were done.A rather strange thing then happened. I say strange but I mean that in a good way. One of the immigration officers approached us and asked all those with Rwandan passports and IDs to step aside. Our photos were taken in turn and a quick demo of how to go through a small gate akin to the entry systems you find in underground train stations in Europe.We were duly informed that henceforth the immigration arrival forms for returning citizens would be a thing of the past. I smiled! One word kept ringing in my head – "AGACIRO” or dignity! Here it was! The president has mentioned time and again the need to carry ourselves with dignity before the rest of the world can give us the respect that we deserve. Bravo! To the Directorate of Immigration and Emigration; they continue to lead from the front in applying technology to simplify service delivery. In this case they delivered more than good customer service; they delivered a heightened sense of self worth!No doubt the government of Rwanda continues to play its part in giving its people the foundations on which to build their dignity. From health insurance for all (Mutuelles de santé) to road networks that are the envy of our regional neighbours. International news agencies may prefer to concentrate on our relations with France, the DRC and the beef with Human Rights Watch but the average Rwandan citizen couldn’t care less. Better the devil you know than the angel that ups and bolts when the going gets tough (rewind to 1994).If every Rwandan mustered the vigilance and attitude towards work that we see in our government, this country would go a long way in achieving the colossal targets we have set ourselves. National initiatives such as EDPRS (now EDPRS II) and the NICI plan currently in its third stage need massive buy-in from the populace. The government can take the proverbial camel to the water but the drinking part remains up to the camel (read Rwandans). I know I can make my tax declarations online but I still go physically to the RRA offices to make submissions; I am certain that it’s not just me that does this because of the massive queues I find at RRA.We need to all embrace the infrastructure around us to realise the Rwandan dream!