Nyamirambo — Unlike the usual serene and green urban landscape of Kigali, where bustling crowds and noise are often scarce, the Biryogo car-free zone evokes memories of a beloved place in Cameroon known as “Briqueterie”—vibrant, infectious energy and mouthwatering aromas of delectable street food. The sun has set. Taking a moment to absorb my surroundings, I couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast between the cream and grey buildings, which appeared as the only subdued hues in the area. The asphalt on the street is adorned with a vivid tapestry of colours. Neatly aligned in rows, bright red and white chairs provide inviting seating options, their occupants basking in the glow of streetlights that illuminate the scene. Strategically-placed speakers seep in popular afrobeat tunes. About two minutes after we - my cousin, a friend, and I - arrived, a flood of waiters descended upon us, each in a bid to entice us into their respective restaurants. We opted for one particular waiter who greeted us with a wide smile and gestured for us to follow him. “Come, sit here. We have everything you need,” he warmly welcomed us, displaying his proficiency in English, unaware that one among us could communicate in Kinyarwanda. Locals emphasise that when dining in Biryogo, there is one absolute must-have: chapatis. These delightful creations are crafted using atta, a type of whole-wheat flour, which is combined with water, oil, and a pinch of salt in a mixing utensil, forming a dough. The dough is then skillfully cooked on a flat skillet, resulting in a delicious, savoury unleavened flatbread. Its mouthwatering flavour pairs exceptionally well with a hot cup of tea or, if you prefer, a refreshing glass of milk. With that in mind, we couldn't resist ordering a serving of chapatis alongside some succulent beef brochettes. Amidst the teeming setting of the Biryogo car-free zone, lies a concealed world that often eludes the knowledge of many foreigners. Elderly gentlemen in their 60s and 70s engross themselves in a traditional board game called Igisoro, displaying unwavering dedication. Meanwhile, young women engage in animated conversations, forming a lively backdrop. Here, on any given night, one might witness families spending time together, alongside foreign students and even local celebrities, all sharing the same space within arm’s reach. Biryogo encapsulates a one-size-fits-all destination in Kigali, fostering an enduring inclusiveness that captivated me from the very beginning. A muslim-dominated suburb in the Nyarugenge district of Kigali, Biryogo originated in the 1930s when the Belgian government relocated the expanding Muslim community from the city centre to Nyamirambo. This neighbourhood is home to a diverse population, including the working class, Muslims, as well as bars, boutiques, and hair salons, creating an intriguing blend of cultures. To foster sustainable mobility, reduce air pollution, and enhance urban living, the government implemented car-free zones as an effective measure. Biryogo became one such zone, transformed into a dynamic public space through the creative use of art and tactical urbanism by the City of Kigali. By 8 pm, the kiosks exhibited a notable decrease in vacant stools compared to just a few hours prior. Along the sidewalk, chairs accommodated hundreds of people, who gathered with friends and often a cup of tea while they immersed themselves in the contagious joviality that permeated the air on this night. It remained unclear who was in charge or curating the music, but what stood out was the absence of selfie-taking or phones propped up for content creation (with the exception of myself, and in my defence, I was a journalist simply being a journalist). In stark contrast to larger, more conventional restaurants where unnecessary cutlery is offered, there was not a single white tablecloth in sight. The absence of pretence in this setting presents a wonderful opportunity to engage in personal conversations with the locals, as they tend to be open, friendly, and eager to chat. Within moments of our encounter, Samuel Irasubiza, an 18-year-old waiter who had been employed at the Chami Love Qatar restaurant for a year and two months, openly shared a wealth of information. He discussed various topics ranging from the neighbourhood’s busiest period and most cherished menu items among customers to the origin of his nickname, “Papa Kigali.” “During the weekends, we typically welcome around 300 visitors. The busiest period of the year falls in June and July when people seek outdoor dining options to escape the scorching heat of Kigali,” said Irasubiza. This implies that he works tirelessly for 12 hours every day, with no scheduled days off unless he is unwell. My cousin inquired whether financial reasons were the primary motivation behind his rigorous work schedule or if there was another underlying reason. Irasubiza responded by expressing his genuine joy in serving people and witnessing the happiness reflected in their smiles. “I feel happy when people return the next day, specifically asking for me to be their server,” he shared. He then began to elaborate on the origin of his moniker, “Papa Kigali.” Before he could proceed, I interjected to place an order for additional brochettes, priced at 500 RWF each—a justifiable cost considering their tantalising flavour. However, there is a noticeable drawback for us. The sale of alcohol is prohibited in the area, limiting our beverage options to the palate-tickling bitter green tea, subpar cocktails that fail to meet expectations (such as the virgin mojito I ordered, which turned out to be a disappointing imitation of a lemonade), hibiscus tea, and spicy tea. “When it comes to the waitstaff, I’m the only one here with a professional badge,” Irasubiza confidently stated as he returned with our drinks. He took pride in highlighting the unique qualities that set him apart from the other waiters. One of his specialties is preparing tea infused with hibiscus, which he believes has the power to enhance feelings of love. In fact, he even recited a poem dedicated to the tea before his attention was momentarily diverted by two men seated at the table across from us, loudly inquiring, “Do you still have green tea?” The 18-year-old reigned over the scene like a friendly conductor greeting regulars as he recommended perfect pairings and ensuring every guest was satisfied. To many, the Biryogo car-free zone holds a unique allure precisely because it stands out from other parts of Kigali City. The atmosphere is high-spirited and buzzing with nostalgic comfort, creating an ambiance that is distinctly different. But for Phiona Uwase, a 20-year-old student seated with two companions at the Impala restaurant, the appeal of the Biryogo car-free zone is much simpler yet equally meaningful: it provides her with an opportunity to cherish moments with her loved ones in a welcoming environment, all without burdening her wallet. “I'm not sure if it's the competitive nature of the place, but what strikes me is how incredibly welcoming and attentive everyone is to your needs,” Uwase said. “The remarkable part is that you don't have to spend a fortune to receive such exceptional treatment.” According to her, the only costly aspect is the transportation fare required to reach the Biryogo car-free zone. Construction challenges aside, such as the absence of functional toilets and sinks, “the food isn't all that. But when you consider the price range, it makes sense,” she added. “Even the service is prompt, unlike the sluggish customer service we often encounter at other restaurants in Kigali.” Although it was her first visit, Uwase had already decided that she would return to the area with additional friends in the future. As the clock approached 11 pm, darkness enveloped the surroundings, accompanied by a piercing cold that sent shivers down my spine. The increasing frequency of my yawns served as a clear sign that it was time to bring the night to a close. Glancing across the brightly painted street, I observed people in social gatherings: amorous couples lost in each other’s company, someone engrossed in a phone conversation while sipping tea. A short guy sporting an interesting hairstyle notices me and greets me with a friendly wave. While the streets of Kigali would typically be deserted at this hour, Biryogo remained alive and boisterous, just as it had been when I first arrived. I straightened up from my seat, shifting my attention towards the opposite end of the street. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Irasubiza’s silhouette, a relentless marathon runner sprinting through the area with boundless energy and unwavering endurance. He seemed to never slow down, even after what should have been eleven hours of work by now. Uwase’s earlier comment about an exceptional waiter who had left a lasting impression on her, echoed in my mind. Could it have been the same guy? If there’s one thing about Irasubiza, he’s got enough steez to make certain you won’t forget him. For those who are curious about the extent of Papa Kigali’s influence, there is only one way to truly grasp it: pay a visit to Biryogo and experience it firsthand.
