Memories

A change of plans this morning allowed some time for reflection.

The city of Kigali is changing at an alarming rate, unrecognisable from the Kigali of 10 years ago, Tarmac roads now serve vast areas which once required long journeys on rough murram roads, public transport has improved and bus lanes have been added during the busy periods. New hospitals have been built, slums have been replaced with blocks of flats, and a huge amount of construction continues.

The city would not be out of place in any western country, but this all comes at a price., livestock can no longer be seen grazing the verges, and the ladies dressed in their brightly coloured traditional dresses selling goods from baskets on their heads at the side of the road have almost disappeared.  Many have had to sell their small plots of land and move to more remote areas where opportunities to find casual work are fewer. Many more who used to live in the slums where hens and goats could be kept and roadside grazing was free, have been rehoused in flats, with no opportunity to keep livestock.

In a country where the median age is 20.2 years, for those who have found employment in this new world, coffee shops and café’s serving western food are becoming the norm, but the smell of woodsmoke has disappeared as traditional fayre becomes less popular, traditional dress less often worn, the culture and traditions seem to be disappearing as the country develops, modernises and tightens administrative financial control.

Undoubtedly, for some at least, the changes have bought great benefits, the availability of safe water and electricity is now nationwide, although not everyone can access it. Education and healthcare are more readily available; there are better opportunities for those seeking careers beyond the villages. We cannot however help feeling a little sad at the apparent loss of the essence and traditional culture of this beautiful country as they strive to become more like the western world.

There is undoubtedly a little nostalgia here from a visitor who never walked in the shoes of the Rwandan people, but one who fell in love with a country and a people so colourful and different from our own, living a hard but more simple life, strong in faith and trust in God for their needs.

As you can probably tell we had a leisurely start to the day with breakfast of boiled egg, chapatis and fruit at the guest house, then a stroll down the street to buy some water. We took a slight detour across the road as a fight broke out at the picki picki stand, being hit by flying crash helmets was definitely not on the agenda, then back to collect our cases as we were collected for the relatively short trip to Kibagabaga Cathedral where we spent a very pleasant couple of hours with Josiane who oversees the sponsored children in Gasabo. She is relatively new to the role, and it was good to meet her in person. A lovely, intelligent lady who has obviously got to grips with the role very quickly and is getting to know the children.

Despite not yet having any local currency, we shared a pleasant lunch at The Fork Restaurant then ran off without paying as we headed across the road to the ATM, Pauline’s bank card saved the day and, with bills settled we returned to the Cathedral where our lift to Kibungo was waiting.

The road to Kibungo has definitely improved and Laurant our driver made good use of the opportunity to put his foot down. New buildings abounded along the road, all boasting high walls and iron gates, a few small houses could be seen nestling amongst the banana trees, and just as we were despairing of seeing anything of the old Rwanda we rounded a bend and hey presto the rural landscape could be seen stretching into the distance, families gathered outside traditional houses, boundaries marked with low hedges or open fencing with hens pecking around in the dirt. Suddenly the road was full of children walking home from school and impossibly large loads being pushed on bicycles, and joy of joys, as we arrived in Kibungo the smell of woodsmoke reached our nostrils.

A short meeting with the Bishop, and just as we were settling into our rooms and discovering only a trickle of cold water in the bathrooms (we were prewarned) the electricity failed.

With the WiiFii modem borrowed from the office (fortunately with a battery backup), as we sit typing this blog in the dark and wondering if the omelette and chips we have been promised for dinner will actually materialise, we finally feel we are back in Rwanda.