When I think of the world’s mighty, omnipotent river systems, the Nile, the Niger, the Yangtze, the Danube, the Thames, the Mississippi, the Amazon, and the Zambezi come to mind. These rivers are not only vital to their regional ecosystems but to the global one as well. The idea that any of them could dry up seems impossible to fathom. These are rivers that have been flowing mightily since the dawn of time. So, what happens when one starts to fail? Well, that’s a question we’ve never had to answer—until now. As I write this, Zambians are experiencing systematic load shedding because the Kariba Dam, the country’s main source of electricity, is suffering from a lack of water. People are going without power for as long as three whole days. For a population that hasn’t faced major power disruptions in 65 years, ever since the Kariba Dam on the Zambezi River was completed by British colonialists in 1959, the current situation must be a shock to the system. Zambians and Zimbabweans are enduring a prolonged drought caused by the El Niño weather phenomenon. This drought has not only affected crop yields but has made hydroelectric power generation on the Zambezi River—the two countries’ main source of electricity—nearly impossible. According to some reports, instead of producing over 2,000 megawatts of power as it once did, the dam is now generating only 5% of that, or just 100 megawatts. To put this in context, Rwanda, a much smaller and less industrialised country, produces just over 300 megawatts of electricity. Reading about what Zambians are going through has given me pause for thought, especially regarding the topic of green electricity and its inherent risks. Last year, I interviewed Dr. Fidele Ndahayo, the CEO of the Rwanda Atomic Energy Board, on my weekly podcast, ‘The Long Form with Sanny Ntayombya’’. In our conversation, I learned that Rwanda has a total domestic power generation capacity of 900 megawatts. In other words, if Rwanda were to fully utilise every single potential energy source in the country—methane, natural gas, solar, hydropower, wind, peat, and geothermal—we would still not surpass 900 megawatts. Because of Rwanda’s relatively small power generation capacity and its ambitious development agenda, Dr. Ndahayo informed me that the country is exploring nuclear power generation. When the interview and the accompanying article were published, I noticed pushback on social media, with many arguing that Rwanda didn’t need to go nuclear since it had solar and hydro-power generation capacity. I believe what Zambia is currently experiencing should serve as a lesson, not only for Rwanda but for other African countries as well. Climate change is happening, and its effects are real. Taking our water sources—and the benefits they provide—for granted is extremely shortsighted. We need to develop Plan B strategies as fast as possible, and I believe nuclear power should be part of that plan. Consider this: nuclear power is stable (it doesn’t fluctuate like other sources), it doesn’t produce greenhouse gases (unlike natural gas, coal, peat, and petroleum), and it requires much less space than solar (which demands large areas for solar panels). While nuclear power may have a bad reputation in Africa, the reality is that it plays a vital role in the energy mix outside of this continent. If the Zambezi, Africa’s fourth-largest river, can dry up due to climate change and weather phenomena, what chance does Rwanda’s much smaller Nyabarongo have? Today, the Nyabarongo 1 hydroelectric power station contributes a crucial 28 megawatts to the national grid. The second dam, Nyabarongo 2, which is expected to be completed by 2025, will add 43.5 megawatts. Now, imagine a prolonged drought in the country—what will happen then? What guarantees do we have that things won’t become as dire as in Zambia? Nuclear power isn’t just the future; it’s the present. Waiting until things go wrong before embracing nuclear energy is like playing Russian Roulette with our lives. The author is a socio-political commentator
