It was a clear morning. Sunday 29th May, Car-Free Day in Kigali, seemed to have ‘dressed’ for the occasion, indeed, as it was a day of sports for Kigali residents. And so, I and a couple of fellow grey-heads were waddling down Kimihurura road, our form of sports, when one of us jumped up with a shriek and then quickly composed himself. When we all looked at him askance, he sheepishly explained that, for a moment, he had taken the bulldog near us for one of the rabid dogs of 1994! We all burst into guffaws at the contrast of his dark thoughts, even if, give the devil his due, he reminded us of the fear of God those dogs spread into us for having fed on genocide victims. With that, we slumped down cross-legged in the road, at the humps where it was marked “Push-ups”, as other walkers ‘pushed-up’ and skateboarders and cyclists, across the median of the double-carriage way, swished by. (On a different note, will someone wise me up? Why is it marked “Hump Ahead” on our roads, when humps are always in pairs?) Anyway, we had doddered our way from Car-free Zone, city-centre, down the roundabout and ‘Payage’, to ‘Sopetrad’ and the flyover, each of the spots having a horror history begging to be recounted. Like when an old geezer-buddy overshot that flyover, what with broken railings, and plunged a quarter-kilometre below and lived to tell the story! We were now walking back from the RRA roundabout and, as we took a breather instead of dragging aged bones up and down in press-ups, as designated on the humps, we were absorbed in remembering. This green landscape, airy atmosphere, healthy population, clean governance; surely, how have we got here? As old minds are wont to, ours gravitated into the past and we recalled this and that, the synopsis of which follows. We could all clearly visualise those rabid, snarling dogs on the rampage all over. Then there were mines which could blow you into shreds or, if you were lucky, only (!) snap off your limbs. There were oversized rats, too, satiated on rotting human flesh, not to mention vultures and other birds of prey that invaded fields, looking for chilli to spice their decaying ‘meaty meals’. Meanwhile, armed génocidaires lurked in every nook, many in internally displaced persons’ camps, possessively ‘secured’ by international non-governmental organisations (NGOs). From across the borders, they made repeated forays, having replenished the arsenal they fled with, with proceeds from selling the surplus on the NGOs’ generous assistance. However, more than taming this whole mess of a situation, perhaps the biggest task for the government was healing Rwandan hearts and minds; a task further complicated by the fact that both leadership and citizenry were apprentices in their own endeavour. Everybody was learning on the job. Indeed, we have come a long way. And, appreciating this dogged rise, we must sing about it. For, any other country that sank so low and quickly rose from the ashes to shine, phoenix-like, does not immediately come to mind. There is a saying in Kinyarwanda: “Ukize inkuba arayiganira/arayiririmba” (roughly, “Who survives thunder, narrates/celebrates it.”) We may be blowing our trumpet when celebrating our now-famous turnaround but I see nothing infantile about it. A fellow East-African who calls it that, knowing full well how his people’s small wound in 2007/8 still festers to-date, is definitely shooting himself – and us! – in the foot. Shouting to high heaven that he was “the greatest” may not be the reason Muhammad Ali (Bless his soul) was so. But it sure-as-daylight gave him morale and inspired many an upcoming boxer. So is it with societies. Instead of demeaning every effort, African intellectuals should sing the achievements of their fellow Africans, however meagre. If for nothing else, to spur them to greater acts. Plus, there is nothing more morale-boosting and inspiring for other societies. When such an intellectual from a friendly West African nation, knowing how his country and the earlier-mentioned are standing only courtesy of their colonial legacy, faithfully parrots what’s thrown about in the Western media, it’s a sad day for Africa. “Paul Kagame.....s’est tallé une constitution à sa guise, il s’autorise de fouler au pied des règles démocratiques....” “.....fitted a constitution to his will, freely bent democratic rules”, my foot! Were a single dictator capable of lifting their country out of its misery, wouldn’t Africa, not lacking in dictators, be Paradise? Or is it a case of one society’s democracy being another’s dictatorship? In case these free dispensers of unsolicited commentary didn’t know, behind every improving society there is teamwork. And behind every successful team, there is a good manager. Whoever coined the term “CEO of Rwanda.Inc” for President Kagame wasn’t an idle armchair tele-observer. They had been to the ground and studied the details of how Rwandans worked with their leadership to rise from the rubble rendered by a barbarity hitherto alien to them. Maybe opting for “inclusive democracy”, where winner-take-all is spurned, over “loggerheads democracy”, where all dies in unfruitful squabbles, can work wonders. Our peddlers of ‘wisdom’ better examine the veracity of that...... But, as I was saying, it was a clear, sporty morning and we ‘groaned’ to our feet and hobbled on. butapa@gmail.com butamire.wordpress.com
