Today, I want to discuss Rwandan citizenship and what the term Rwandan citizenship demands of us, most especially those in leadership positions. But before diving into the details, let's first agree on what citizenship means in our context. The Cambridge English Dictionary defines citizenship in various ways. Depending on the context, it can mean the state of being a member of a particular country and having rights because of it. It can also refer to the state of living in a particular area or town and behaving in a way that other people who live there expect of you. The word nationality, though sometimes used interchangeably with citizenship, is quite different. Nationality, to me, is about the rights people from a particular state have within that state, while citizenship is about the responsibilities a national of a particular state has to the state and the community around them. After witnessing the swearing-in of his new cabinet, President Kagame delivered a 35-minute address to the assembled leaders, touching on various topics, including institutional cooperation and personal responsibility. Speaking about certain behaviors he has noticed in leadership circles he gave an example of elevators in public buildings being held up for high-ranking officials to use. I won’t say where I’ve personally witnessed this, but the President is spot on. This isn’t the most egregious example of high-and-mighty behavior he’s noted. He’s also talked about leaders allowing their staff members to hold their bags and book their seats on shared buses. I have no issue with a private business person asking their assistant to carry their bag—that's their prerogative. But I can’t fathom a public servant acting as if they are better than the public they serve, or worse yet, the public they come from. As someone who has lived in Rwanda for the last 30 years, I’ve seen the evolution of the relationship between the leadership and the led. It has been slowly moving from the Nyakubwaha-Muturage (VIP-Commoner) kind of relationship to something more relaxed and less full of protocol and self-importance. However, it’s not been an easy journey. A well-known case involved a minister who was sacked after assaulting a security guard in a downtown high-rise. What caused the assault? The former minister’s refusal to go through a metal detector. The gentleman lost his job simply because he couldn’t fathom walking through a security device like a normal muturage. To be treated like a common citizen was, in his estimation, beyond the pale. The question is, what is wrong with being treated like a common muturage? Is being a normal citizen something to be ashamed of? Is it something to sneer at? A leadership position is just that, a position. You can have it one day, and it’s gone the next. What cannot be taken away from you are your rights as a citizen. Now, if you’ve created a system where only leaders have rights and the citizens have none, then staying in leadership becomes a fight to the death. Thankfully, that isn’t the system Rwanda is trying to create. Rwanda is attempting to build a fair society where all its citizens—leaders and common citizens alike—relate to each other with humility and respect. The thing is, the abaturage already treat their leaders extremely well. So, it’s up to the leaders to park their egos aside and navigate society with humility and respect. So, dear Minister/Afande/Mayor/DG/CEO, enter that cramped elevator. It’s not the end of the world. You’ll still remain the powerful person you are. The author is a socio-political commentator
