The Kabuga ruling is proof that we are fundamentally on our own

The news that a UN appeals court has ruled that the notorious genocide financier, Felicien Kabuga, is suffering from severe dementia and, therefore, cannot be tried for the crimes he is believed to have committed in Rwanda preceding and during the 1994 Genocide against the Tutsi, is not surprising to me. What was surprising to me was that he was even arrested by a European police force.

I’d like us to recall that before he was arrested in Paris three years ago he had lived in Switzerland just after the Genocide. And when survivors identified him and begged Swiss authorities to arrest him, they simply put him on a plane and sent him to Zaire. Furthermore, he had felt comfortable enough in the ability of his networks to keep him safe from arrest that he got surgery in Germany in 2007. So, it wasn’t like he had disappeared, D.B. Cooper-like, into the ether. He could have been arrested more than once between 1994 and 2020.

Fortunately for him (and unfortunately for the hundreds of thousands of victims of his hate radio), the focus and investment on the part of the international community that was needed to apprehend him was largely absent. That is why I said that I was surprised that he was ever arrested.

The mechanisms of international justice as well as the larger international community have been extremely unkind to the victims of the 1994 Genocide against the Tutsi.

The specialized court in Arusha gave ridiculously lenient sentences to genocide masterminds, while other courts gave them early parole. Other genocide perpetrators like Protais Mpiranya were able to use their wealth and networks to receive succor in African countries and escape scot-free from even the little justice that was available to survivors. 

And then to make matters even worse, nations that should have known better, like the United States, refused to acknowledge the nature of the genocide and who its victims were. Even today, the US refuses to call what happened in April 1994 the “Genocide against the Tutsi”. It continues to use the terminology ‘Rwandan Genocide’.

With all this in mind, the recent ruling is par for the course. It’s a callous ruling that treats the perpetrator better than the victim of his violence. Let us even acknowledge that Kabuga is indeed senile today. Was he senile three years ago? How about in the late 90s? Justice could have been rendered years ago. And let’s not pretend that the harm he caused ended at the defeat of the genocidal government. It is my suspicion that he continued to fund the activities of anti-Rwanda forces such as the FDLR.

Furthermore, the fact that the people who hid him away all these years will not suffer any punishment is disgusting to me. They literally aided and abetted a fugitive from justice.

All that this case has done is give me more evidence that, as anti-apartheid leader Steve Biko wrote, “black man, you are on your own”. 

As Rwandans, that fundamental lesson was drummed into us as a result of our relationship with the so-called international community. We learned that, at the end of the day, no one would come to save us. That is why the Rwandan state has been building its capacity to stand on its own over the last 29 years. 

Fundamentally, we are the only ones who really care whether we live or die, remain poor or prosper. For everyone else, the 13 million Rwandans are part of a larger game, whether it is a geopolitical one that pits East against West, or as a backdrop to a funding campaign for NGOs such as Human Rights Watch, who use Rwandans as a tool to get money from unsuspecting donors. That is the cold hard truth, and the faster we internalize that and then act on it, the better the overall outcomes shall be for us moving forward.

Farmers are broke while we pay through the nose. So who is gaining from high food prices?

Last November, The New Times reported a staggeringly high 40% increase in food prices in Kigali and other urban areas, and a year before that the very same newspaper reported a similar increase in the prices as well.  

Now, I don’t know about you, but it feels to me that the phrase, “food is expensive at the market these days”, is becoming part and parcel of ‘Kigali Life’ lexicon. As an urbanite, I previously took it for granted that Kigali Life was synonymous with high costs of living. And to be honest, I didn’t try to understand why that was so, other than attempting to link the skyrocketing prices to the ever-increasing fuel prices.  That is, until I started farming myself.

By farming in Ngoma District I have been able to have a better understanding of the rural food economy, and what I have found out angers me to no end.

 This is a very real scenario that I’ve witnessed personally. A farmer in Rukumberi plants half a hectare of local pumpkin, investing about Frw 200,000 over a time period of 3-4 months. At harvest time, he/she sells a good sized pumpkin at around Rwf 100-400 to a Kigali-based middleman with a Fuso truck and access to cold, hard cash. The farmer, if lucky, earns maybe Frw 400,000 for their entire season’s work.  So, logically you’d think they’ve made a small profit so no harm, no foul right? Wrong. Because after paying any debt they’ve incurred over the last few months as well as living expenses and inputs for the next growing season, they barely have enough to buy a bottle of Primus beer.

So, the middleman goes village center to village center, packing hundreds of pumpkins until the truck is full (or he/ she runs out of money) and then heads straight to Nyabugogo market. At Nyabugogo, the middleman then sells each pumpkin for between Rwf 1,000- 1,500. Thereby earning between Rwf 1-3 million. And then the final customer? Complaining that prices are astronomical, they buy the Rukumberi pumpkin at about Rwf 1,800.

So think about that, people in Kigali are often paying over three times what the farmer has sold the produce for but farmers themselves are remaining poverty-stricken.

As I see it, this is the situation today. Urbanites are spending the vast majority of their hard-earned cash on food (therefore leaving them little to save or invest) and farmers are left living hand to mouth, always one bad season away from requesting food aid from the government. The only people who are making money and laughing all the way to the bank are the middle men. That cannot, and should not be, the case.

Firstly, our national food supply shouldn’t be governed by the whims of the Fuso truck-driving middlemen. They are, in my view, literally dictating the prices both at the farm as well as at the local market. And as businessmen/women, they are attempting to get as much return on investment as possible. Never-mind the effect on everyone else’s livelihoods.

As a nascent farmer myself, I realized that the only way to financially survive (never-mind thrive) as a rural farmer was to purchase my own means of transport and drive my own produce to Nyabugogo. Thereby cutting out the middlemen.

In addition, because of my frequent travels to rural Eastern Province, I’m able to purchase groceries at prices that Kigali shoppers can only dream of. I mean, with about Frw 25,000 I’m able to purchase enough fruits and vegetables (ranging from pineapples to green bananas) at the bi-weekly local market to last my household of five over a week. It’s still a tad bit high of course, but I pay triple that if I buy the same goods in Kigali. Plus, the money goes straight to farmers.

It’s my belief that the lower food prices in rural Rwanda should be somewhat mirrored in urban areas. There is no reason that food sourced less than 200 kilometers away ends up triple the price because of ‘logistics’. Double the farm gate price? Maybe. Triple? Absolutely not! Fuel is not that expensive and neither are the vehicles or the taxes on the produce are ot that high.

Leaving our food prices to the vagaries of demand and supply isn’t very clever, especially because of the inefficiencies in our local logistical ecosystem. I mean, just a few years ago, farmers in Rubavu let their onions rot in the field rather than sell them at a loss. Yet, I’m pretty sure that there were regions in the country that could have used those onions. But because of the inefficiencies, farmers in Rubavu suffered and so did onion consumers in Kirehe.  

RURA has been able to keep prices of public transport and fuel stable and Kigali City has been able to provide a semblance of organization to the bus sector (how successfully is a topic for another day). How is it possible that the transport of food (and therefore farm gate and market prices) have been left to whoever has a truck and some cash on hand? In my opinion, this is a national security concern that should be tackled with urgency by the government. If not, then we shall stay in the situation where we all remain poorer than we need to.

We need to bring our heroes to life on film and television

RPA troops make on the move in 1994

On February 1^st we celebrate and commemorate our national heroes. The men and women who, through their selfless acts, laid the foundation for the country we now call home. We celebrate the lives of the thousands of young men and women who died liberating this country from genocide and sectarianism.

We celebrate Chairman Maj Gen Fred Rwigema, who died leading his troops in battle. We remember Mwami Mutara III Rudahigwa, Felista Niyitegeka, Michel Rwagasana, Agathe Uwiringiyimana and the brave young Nyange School students who stared death right in the eyes and refused to blink or back down from their belief in a united Rwandan people. On this day, we mustn’t forget people like the late Dr. Paul Farmer, Howard Buffet, Daphrose Ghauttier and the two Ghanaian UNAMIR commanders, Major-General(Rtd) Joseph Narh Adinkra and Major-General Henry Kwame Anyidoho, who refused to leave thousands of innocent civilians defenseless in the face of forces out to annihilate them.

I believe that all these men and women, Rwandans and friends of Rwanda, have a testimony to share with the newest generation of young people. This age bracket, between 5-25 years of age, is probably the only generation in our nation’s history, if I’m not mistaken, that has enjoyed over two decades of relative peace, stability and growth. And while it is my belief that this peace and development is directly linked to the acts of the national heroes, I also believe that we, as a society, haven’t done enough to bring our national heroes to life for this very generation.

 Yes, we commemorate these heroes every year with a national holiday and a ceremony led by the President. But I fervently believe that we haven’t even begun to scratch the surface on the story telling element of commemoration and remembrance. And it’s not as if we don’t know how to do it. All we need to do is take a leaf out of the American book.  I don’t think anyone would argue that they are the best in the world at harnessing storytelling and myth-creating for the national ‘good’.

The Americans have taken storytelling to a level that we must aspire to. The majority of the world (and many younger Americans I bet) learnt about US civil rights leader, Malcolm X, not from a book but rather an autobiographical movie about him that starred Denzel Washington. The same could probably be said about Fred Hampton, the young Black Panther leader killed by the Chicago Police, whose story is being kept alive through movies such as ‘Judas and the Black Messiah’ starring Daniel Kaluuya.

Hollywood has kept the memories of World War I and II, the Civil Rights Movement, their fight for independence from the British and other seminal moments in American history alive by telling the stories of their national heroes through the medium of television and cinema. In addition to Hollywood, writers, artists, graphic designers and cartoonists have used their talents to bring to life American heroes as well.

This has not only kept the memories of the heroes (some who died over a century ago) alive, it has also ingrained in young American minds a respect for, and willingness, to commit acts of heroism as well. Acts of heroism, in their psyche, have become almost as American as apple pie.

What I find most interesting is just how much money and resources the US government has spent on this kind of storytelling. According to public documents, between 2008 and 2021, it spent $ 1.2 billion on movie production and distribution. If you look at the numbers in more detail, you’ll find out that the Defense Department (i.e. the military) spent the most. $721 million in total. Their space agency, NASA, was the second biggest spender, at $ 124 million. With all this money spent it is little wonder that their kids want to grow up and become soldiers and astronauts. It is in this vein that I call upon our own ministries of defense, education and national unity to create well-funded programs to fund the arts. And most especially television and cinema.

The visual medium that is cinematography is, in my humble opinion, the most effective storytelling tool in the world. Far more effective than radio and even the written word. We only have to look at the impact of the best produced movie on the fight for Kigali, ‘The 600: The Soldiers’ Story’. This movie, released in 2019, brought to life the sacrifices that were made by the 600 RPA soldiers that were holed up in the CND building (now Parliament). I remember watching the movie and feeling so very proud of those young men. Not only did I feel proud of them, but I felt represented by them. This movie not only further cemented my personal bond with the uniformed men of then, but also the uniformed men and women of today.

This kind of bond is what well-funded art can do. And that is what our national heroes deserve. To be brought back to life once again. We need their stories told and retold over and over again. Not just to celebrate them, which they so richly deserve, but to enrich ourselves as well.

BAL (Basketball Africa League) in Paris, France? Non merci!

Last week, my Twitter timeline was accosted by, what it seemed like, an unending stream of videos and photos of former basketball stars and celebrities, schmoozing and enjoying the Paris nightlife. And to be honest, I didn’t like what I saw. Not one bit. Not because I had an issue with celebrities enjoying themselves (they have every reason to have a good time if they so wish). Rather, it was because of the reason they were partying. The second ever BAL (Basketball Africa League) combine. A two-day event aimed at giving BAL teams the opportunity to scout talent from Africa as well as the rest of the world, in order to potentially add these players to their rosters.

This Paris event, I felt, raised a very obvious question. Why did they (the BAL) feel the need to hold this event in Europe? I mean, didn’t anyone in the organization ask themselves, ‘what message were we giving to the millions of African basketball fans, as well as the BAL teams, by holding one of the key events of the AFRICAN league in another continent’?

The much-needed conversation that the brainchild behind the BAL started on the continent was this, ‘why not create an African league that highlights the best of African talent?’  This timely concept was one that I, and the millions of African basketball fans, had no choice but to fall in love with. This was then followed by African organizations such as the Rwanda Development Board (under its ‘Visit Rwanda’ brand), as well as private sector players, putting their money where their mouths were and making the BAL a reality.

As I watched the BAL grow over the last two seasons all I could feel was pride. Pride in not just how Rwandan teams performed, but also pride in the fact that the league was supported and led by people who called Africa ‘home’. It was something that was, I felt, truly ‘ours’. However, the fact that they held the first major event of the 2023 BAL season in France has forced me to reevaluate this feeling of ownership. Would the US-based National Basketball Association have held a major combine outside North America? No way in hell. It wouldn’t have even been up for debate. Would the Chinese Basketball Association hold anything outside the Chinese borders, never-mind a combine? No way in the world. So why us? Why the Africa league?

With investment and good leadership, we put paid to the old excuses that ensured international sporting events avoided our continent i.e. poor sporting venues, visa issues, bad air connectivity, the lack of international level accommodation and the like.  Today, you can find world class venues in Dakar, Cairo, Kigali and other cities. We have great airlines and top class hotels. I mean, if the three cities were deemed good enough for the actual BAL competition, they were certainly good enough for the ‘mere’ combine.

So, again I must ask, what exactly was BAL President Amadou Gallo Fall, trying to tell us? That we didn’t deserve this showpiece event? That catering to his ‘partners’ was more important than drawing a line in the sand and saying that BAL is FOR Africa? I know that many people joked during the just concluded FIFA World Cup that the French team was ‘African’ due to the number of black players it had. But I also remember them singing the ‘La Marseillaise’ at the start of the final game and not the African Union anthem, ‘Let Us All Unite and Celebrate Together’.

Furthermore, beyond even that messaging, I must ask this, are the BAL honchos living in such rarified air that they think that everyone else has the same visa privileges they do? That they have the same access to Western capitals?  Just this past Saturday, The Guardian newspaper published a story with the headline ‘Ritual humiliations’: African music stars struggle to get visas to Europe’. The story highlighted the challenges, rejections and humiliations that Africans face while attempting to get the almighty Schengen visa. I’m 100 % sure that there were fans, journalists and even BAL team officials who weren’t able to travel to Paris due to not only visa issues, but costs as well.  

It is my hope that this Paris combine will be seen more as a mistake made by a nascent league still trying to figure itself out rather than something to be repeated year after year. So, to Paris (and any other place outside our beautiful continent) I say, as any self-respecting African should, “non merci. No thank you”.

M23 is withdrawing as agreed, but it seems that it’s not good enough for armchair generals

Late last year, I penned a column about what I believed was a naïve, myopic and unhelpful attitude from some of our Twitterati brothers from Kenya vis-à-vis the conflict in the eastern region of the DRC. I spoke about a holier-than-thou brashness that was eerily reminiscent, in my view, of the way Western media and powerbrokers  condescendingly speak to us, Africans. As I expected, my views weren’t well received from this online community.

I was labelled a troll, a shill and all sorts of other names. I didn’t respond on Twitter because I felt that, in a few months’ time, facts on the ground would serve as my riposte.  I wrote, and please forgive me for quoting myself, that the commentators were more concerned about geopolitical and economic concerns and not “the real issues plaguing the Congolese people as well as DRC’s neighbors. For them it was all about projecting power and regional influence”.   Events on the ground are proving me correct. 

Over the last few weeks the M23 rebel group, heeding clauses in the Luanda Agreement, handed over captured territory to the Kenyan-led East African Force and withdrew from those territories, starting with Kibumba and later Rumangabo. Furthermore, on the 12^th of this month, leaders of the political wing of the rebels met with EAC mediator, Uhuru Kenyatta, in Mombasa as part of the nascent Nairobi peace process.

You’d think that the Twitter generals would be happy with this, albeit, slow progress. You’d be wrong. 

Their latest complaint is that the EAC force isn’t fighting the M23. Never mind the fact that M23 is doing exactly what was agreed to by the region. All they care about is the fact that a certain Congolese segment is threatening to put the Kenyan armed forces contingent (and therefore Kenyans as a whole)  in their ‘bad books’ à la Rwanda, Uganda and whoever else catches their ire.

It’s my view that these ‘generals’ believe that this vocal Congolese segment has the power to scuttle the business deals that can be, and have been already, signed between Kenyan companies and the DRC private and public sector. And truth be told, they are right.  That is the challenge with hitching yourself to an unreliable partner such as the DRC presidency. It can, and will, constantly change its policy depending on the way the wind blows in the frenzied political climes of Kinshasa.  

What I find particularly hilarious is the fact that Rwandan  who try to engage with our Kenyan brothers  online are then often tarred with the same brush as I was. They are labelled ‘arrogant trolls on the payroll of the Rwandan government’. Ignoring the fact that many of them have engaged with the DRC issue for decades and as a result, have a wealth of experience dealing with it. 

In fact, if news reports are to be believed, a mélange of Romanian mercenaries, FDLR and FARDC will soon launch an offensive against M23 positions as well as positions that they ceded to East African forces. Hopefully calmer heads will prevail but, to be honest, I’m doubtful. Nothing over the last couple of years has given me the confidence to believe that the Kinois politician and military class have the best interests of Nord and Sud Kivu at heart.      

So, to the Twitter generals I say, sit tight. The game has just begun. It will be long. It will be arduous. And it will have twists and turns. And don’t be surprised if, at the end of it all, your nation joins Rwanda and becomes just the latest boogeyman. As I wrote last year, dealing with the DRC opens you up to a  a tedious cycle of governance issues, small arms proliferation, militia groups, mining interests, geopolitical scrambles, corruption, citizenship challenges and conspiracy theories.

One child has left his family far too soon, how many more will we let do so before we act on vehicular child safety?

Losing a child is every parent’s nightmare. It’s what keeps them awake as their newborn fitfully sleeps. It’s that instinct that ensures that they fret as their university-going child goes out to the nightclub with colleagues.  Personally, I didn’t understand the depth of that feeling until my wife gave birth to our child. All of a sudden, as I stared into his cherubic face, I felt an overwhelming fear that he would be snatched from me by forces out of my control. And in turn, I promised myself that I would do everything in my power to fight those forces off with all the strength in my being. 

So I can only imagine what Kenny Mugabo’s parents are going through right now. They watched him jump on a bus heading to Path To Success primary school in the morning, and in the evening they had to start planning his funeral arrangements. 

Picture that, sending your child off for their first day of school and then never seeing them again. It’s absolutely horrifying and we all need to send our kindest thoughts to his parents and the entire family. And while, fingers crossed, he remains the only fatality, 24 other children suffered physical as well as psychological injury. I don’t want to even think of the level of mental trauma these kids will have to live with for the rest of their lives.  

This bus accident, while absolutely heart-stopping, was a tragedy waiting to happen. I cannot even count the number of times I have seen buses, ferrying children to school, driving with almost reckless abandon. I’ve witnessed children jovially hanging out of windows and playfully running up and down the bus aisle. 

Mind you, school buses aren’t the only vehicles ferrying children that have caught my ire. I have also seen children, sitting in the back and even sometimes in the front seat, without a seatbelt, while their parents (or parent’s drivers) take them to school. Mind you, every single adult driving the car is wearing a seatbelt. How do we allow this to happen?

Let me ask an even sadder question. How often have you seen a school going child, squeezed between a moto rider and their care-giver heading to receive an education? Have you noticed that while both adults have life-saving safety gear on (helmets), the child is only secured by the arms and upper torso of their care-giver? In case of an accident, what happens to the children in the cars or motos? Injury, trauma and death.

I do understand that there is a certain fatalism that burns strong in the majority of us, a fatalism that burns a little brighter with the addition of the fuel that is Judeo-Christian/Islamic beliefs. I mean, what’s the point of safety when God is in ‘control’ and the day of reckoning is already written in the stars? 

To this train of reasoning I ask, do you close your eyes and cross a busy road because your time on earth is already known? Or do you, correctly. look right and then left and, only when you see no speeding vehicle approaching, cross the street? 

That kind of regard that we have for ourselves needs to also include our children as well. If vehicular safety is good enough for us, the adults, it’s absolutely incumbent on us to ensure that we give the same to our children. Firstly as a community, can we ensure that the vehicles that we have designated to carry our children to school are not only road worthy but also have seat belts? Can the vehicle’s roadworthiness be tested on a quarterly basis by the team at Control Technique? Can our public safety institutions ensure that these seatbelts are used? If the issue is cost, and that the private sector cannot afford dedicated and safe school buses, maybe it’s up to the ministries concerned with education and transport to come up with a solution. Perhaps school transport should be organised and run by the state?  

Secondly, I suggest that it becomes mandatory for children, being transported by car, to be in dedicated car seats. These seats save lives and, while they might be a bit costly, it’s my belief that if you can afford a car, you can certainly afford a car seat for your children. Maybe parliament and the ministries concerned with child welfare can work on reducing import tariffs for these lifesaving implements.  Thirdly, while I’m not a fan of banning things, I would certainly not make a big fuss if transporting children on motos was made illegal.

Something needs to change and quickly. Every young life is precious and we cannot keep losing them as we dither and wring our hands impotently. We have too much to lose, both as parents as well as a nation that cares for its most vulnerable citizens.

No more scoring own goals in 2023 please

So, here we are. In 2023. For the first time since 2019 New Year’s Eve, Rwandans across the country got to watch the night sky aglow with all the colors of the rainbow courtesy of the hundreds of fireworks that burst above them. Enjoying the fireworks with my family, I thought about all the things that we’ve gone through; firstly as a nuclear family and secondly, as a larger Rwandan one.

There has been COVID-19. We’ve dealt with insecurity and loss of life in the south and west. As a nation, whose vast majority work on the land, the effects of climate change have reverberated across almost every farmer’s household. To make matters worse, international conflicts have increased fuel, fertilizer and grain prices. I mean, to be honest, sometimes it feels like a miracle that we are still here. But not only are we still here, we are alive and well.  

Fingers crossed, we are on the other side of the pandemic. Not only that, due to the colossus that is our leadership, we are leaving the pandemic with a stronger health system than before. And with the BioNTech mRNA vaccine production plant that’s currently on its way to Kigali, we are better placed to combat future pandemics.

Furthermore, while we aren’t out of the woods just yet, we are seeing signs of life in our business and farming community. Production is increasing in both sectors, and despite all the challenges, we aren’t seeing the flood of auctions and foreclosures that could have been. There is real resilience there.  

I saw this resilience in the faces of the young people who joyously welcomed in 2023 at the Kigali Convention Center-Kigali Heights roundabout.

Despite everything that was going on in their day to day, these bright-eyed young women and men were celebrating the new year like their very lives depended on it.  Why? Probably because a new year represented to them a new hope. Hope that this new year will be better than the last. A hope that this year’s resolutions, made at the stroke of midnight, would take. A belief that this time, when they declared “a new year, a new me”, it wouldn’t just be a WhatsApp status on their iPhone but rather a fundamental change in the way they do things.

I’ve been thinking about my own new year resolutions. And to be honest, I’ve only come up with one; ‘try not to repeat the mistakes of 2022’. I think that this resolution is one that those in the corridors of power should emulate. Let’s not keep making the same errors over and over again.  

Let’s not create a moral panic because of someone’s risqué fashion choice. And certainly don’t arrest and prosecute them. That’s a goal you don’t need to concede. Let’s stop shutting down spaces because they are deemed too ‘noisy’. Please, all those concerned, finalise and publicise the noise pollution guidelines as soon as humanly possible. Carting off sound systems during events surrounding, for example, the BAL (Basketball Africa League) finals isn’t a goal we need to concede.  

Let’s stop putting taxpayer monies in poorly thought and poorly executed projects. No more building roads without roundabouts and bridges that will be washed away in the rainy seasons. Those are own goals we need to leave in 2022. 

Can we have no more resignations because of drunk driving as well as fewer prosecutions because of bribery and influence peddling on the part of our leaders? And lastly, can institutions be more responsive to the people they serve, without the need to tag the President on Twitter? 

If you are a ‘Johnny Come Lately’, just leave the DRC alone for those better placed than you

With the entry of the Kenyan armed forces into the DRC imbroglio has come media attention from their journalists, bloggers and Twitter mavens back home. The Franz Fanon book, Black Skin, White Masks’ comes immediately to mind when I see what they are publishing on their platforms.  President Kagame has spent his entire administration pushing back against those who would give us lessons on how to live our lives.

Often this message has been towards the Western power apparatus, particularly the human rights organizations and media that spend their time lecturing and hectoring us to kingdom come. However, this hectoring isn’t always simply a black and white thing. It’s about a sense of superiority and muzungus’ aren’t the only ones who walk around with their noses in the air, acting like they have innate righteousness. Sometimes it’s our very own African brothers and sisters.

Funnily enough though, when I think of where the derision comes from, I detect, as Mr. Fanon declared in his 1952 tome, an imitation of the culture and behavior of the colonizer. This imitation is often evident in upwardly mobile (read ‘developed’) black people who have acquired the status symbol of white ‘civilization’ (read ‘liberal western values and money’).  

In my experience, the media and political elite of two African nations have behaved awfully muzungu when it comes to the affairs of the Great Lakes region; Kenya and South Africa. What do they all have in common? The many trappings of the global liberal political order, strong economic ties to the West and a small but hugely powerful minority (read, ‘Europeans and Asians’). In other words, a state that seamlessly moved from colonialism to ‘independence’ without any structural upheavals or revolutions.  Some can argue that the fall of apartheid and the now present black majority rule was a structural upheaval. My reply to that is this question, who owned the vast majority of the means of production in 1985 and who owns them now? If the answer is the same, then we cannot talk of revolution. We can only talk about some of our people partaking in the feast. Ditto in Kenya. The colonial power structure is still alive and kicking.

This structure creates a superiority complex to those who have been raised in its embrace. In South Africa it will manifest in violent and deadly Afro-phobia and the idea in the corridors of power and media that the country must lead and the rest of black Africa follow. If you think I am exaggerating, take a moment and peruse through some of the African reporting of their most influential media. Funnily enough, as the country has gone through some of their domestic issues, the volume of the crowing has been slightly turned down. Not by too much, but still noticeably. On the other hand, as our East African sister country has moved up the gears, the crowing has increased.  

Crowing in of itself isn’t an issue for me. There is nothing wrong with having an Über alles (above all else) attitude when it comes to one’s country. It becomes tricky when this crowing is then externalized and becomes part of foreign policy. It’s problematic because, if you think that you are the end all and be all, it’s impossible to put yourself in someone else’s shoes and become an equitable partner.  

What I am seeing today from some influential Kenyan commentators (mirroring what happened in 2013 when the South African Defence Force dominated UN FIB-Force Intervention Brigade, attacked the M23 rebels) is a myopic and narrow minded view of the Eastern DRC issue, dominated by geopolitical and economic concerns instead of the real issues plaguing the Congolese people as well as DRC’s neighbors.  For them it’s all about projecting power and regional influence. And that’s all okay. Just remember that, while you sleep peacefully in Westlands, Nairobi there are people’s lives who will be affected in Rubavu, Rwanda (as well as Masisi, DRC) by your cheerful sabre rattling.  And when you get bored and move on to the next big thing, the people in the region will still have to bear the brunt of unhelpful rhetoric.  

Is it because of the Illuminati you have money and power?

While living in Uganda years ago I was told a story about how one popular musician became rich and famous. Recounting the ‘true’ tale, a friend informed me that the artist had gone, and I’m trying to quote from memory, “under Lake Victoria, where with other members of the Illuminati, he met Lucifer. The Devil promised to make him a pop star of note if he worshipped him. He duly did so and, lo behold, every song he did following his trip below the waves was a bona-fide hit.”  

I then, of course, burst into laughter. It was a hilarious tale, wasn’t it? One that anyone with a grain of good sense would take with a pinch of salt, right? Unfortunately not. Tales of children and people born with albinism being kidnapped and murdered for parts are not uncommon in our region, especially in our neighboring countries to the north and east. Some would say that these acts of barbarity are mindless. I beg to differ.

I remember years ago, fresh out of university, penning a column where I wondered how in the world I would be able to purchase a house while mortgage interest rates remained over 16%. While that article was about renting vs purchasing a house by getting a mortgage loan (I went on the side of renting), it was really about one question, ‘how in the world will I, a recent graduate, actually be able to afford the good things in life? A house, a car and a nice piece of farm land i.e. ‘The Rwandan Dream?’ Thankfully, I am well on my way to attaining ‘The Dream’ (almost a decade and a half later) but the pathway has been a long, arduous one full of good fortune and lucky breaks.

My farming career is one such story.

I’ve been extremely fortunate to be able to realize my passion in agriculture and I would go so far as to say that some would call me a successful farmer, worthy of being emulated. My push back to this has always been, just because it looks like I am doing well doesn’t mean that I am. I’m constantly being challenged by the vagaries of disease, weather and the costs of agribusiness (fuel, fertilizers, labor, chemicals etc.) and for every two steps forward I make, it often feels like I take one step back. The only thing that keeps me going is the confidence I have in the business of food. I mean, at the end of the day, we all need three square meals and my theory is that whoever is able to provide crops will never go out of business.

So, whenever someone asks me about my business I ask them how much time they have. I then give as detailed an account of my journey as I can. Often, by the time I’m done, the person, who previously wanted to go gung-ho into the business, is left pondering about water sources, typography, starting capital, mechanization, food inflation and other essential questions that any farmer must answer.  I don’t do this to dissuade potential farmers, I do this to be a service to them. I didn’t receive any such help at the start of my journey and as a result I, to use a football metaphor, scored many own goals.

Now, let’s go beyond my small farming business. It is my belief that one of the most frustrating things that young people deal with is trying to unravel the mystery of how older people make money and/or climb the corporate/public sector ladder and become people of note. They are left wondering, ‘what is the pathway?’ ‘Who should I emulate?’ Those are fair questions to me. 

If being a general in the Rwanda Defence Forces is the ambition, how exactly does someone get there? How about a Member of Parliament? How does someone become Miss Rwanda? How about a steward/stewardess or pilot for Rwandair? Or even the head of Rwandair? Or RDB? The Republic itself? What training must they do? What subjects in school should they concentrate on? Where should they seek internships? How do they get those internships? 

It is my worry that if young people are not given a clear and honest pathway to their life goals, they will try to figure it out themselves and that, I feel, will be doing them a disservice. It’s already hard enough being them, let’s not make their paths any harder than they ought to be.

So what can be done? I believe that it starts with honest storytelling and mentoring by those who are in those positions of admiration. Furthermore, at a systemic level, there needs to be more transparency about how young people can get onto the first rungs of the political and corporate ladder.  Let us remove the mystery by becoming truth tellers. Be honest, acknowledge that you were able to access a bank loan at a good interest rate. Talk about the cold nights sitting in a small cubicle in Huye trying to finalise your doctoral thesis. Share the legal loopholes that you used to get out of paying a hefty tax bill. Share where you get good seeds and greenhouse construction material. Share your knowledge and life experience. And if you don’t have a good story to share, don’t lie and say that you do. You didn’t become a success because of only good luck (and a prayerful mindset), there were a series of events and life choices you made to get where you are today. I know that it wasn’t the Illuminati that made you successful, share with us what did. 

Make peace with is the fact that we have a neighbor, the DRC, who will always give the political leadership of the EAC a headache

Armed Forces of the Democratic Republic of the Congo soldiers take their position following renewed fighting near the Congolese border with Rwanda, outside Goma in the North Kivu province of the Democratic Republic of Congo, May 28, 2022.

I’ve been racking my brain over the last few weeks trying to come up with a new angle to the DRC issue/s. As a columnist and writer I feel that it’s my job to give readers a different viewpoint but with what’s going on at this very moment in DRC, I’ve honestly failed to come up with a new wrinkle. I cannot add anything new to the conversation. I’ve seen it all and I’ve heard it all. DRC’s impact on the region is our very own Groundhog Day; a tedious cycle of governance issues, small arms proliferation, militia groups, mining interests, geopolitical scrambles, corruption, citizenship challenges and conspiracy theories.

As a child of the 80’s whose political awakening occurred in the 90’s, I’ve taken it for granted that Zaire/ DRC is the region’s ‘Sick Man’.  

With a prostate cancer ravaged Marshal Mobutu Sese Seko at the helm in 1994, Zaire tried to play the regional power broker in cahoots with the French and other international interests. The only issue being that what he was trying to broker was an arrangement with the Devil himself i.e. the genocidal militia and Theodore Sindikubwabo FAR (Forces Armee Rwandaise). As a result of Mobutu’s governments’ refusal to disarm these forces (either because they couldn’t or wouldn’t) Zaire became the staging ground for incessant attacks on Rwanda’s new government. A government that was trying to make sense of the horrible situation its citizens were in as a result of the killing of over a million people at speeds previously unknown to mankind.

From the very beginning, and through a lot of fault of their own, Zaire’s leadership played a negative role in the lives of Rwandan citizens trying to rebuild their lives after 1994.

I’m old enough to remember the ‘Abacegezi’ threat and how, due to it, buses would be stopped at the Giti Kinyonyi checkpoint, passengers asked to disembark and luggage checked for grenades, firearms and other weapons.  I remember listening to Radio Rwanda in early 1997 as it reported the murders of students in Ngororero District as well as in Rubavu. Many of the attacks that took place in Rwanda at the time came from safe havens in Zaire.  

I can recall the AFDL rebellion and how it manifested as a result of Zaire’s own mismanagement of its securo-political affairs, this mismanagement being highlighted by the treatment Kinyarwanda speaking Zairois faced. I remember Kabila Senior’s Faustian Bargain with the ex-FAR leadership; a pact that gave the defeated genocidal army a new lease of life. I remember watching the hounding and murder of Kinyarwanda speaking people in Kinshasa on TV, people being tossed into the Congo River and shot at as they drowned.

I remember the Sun City Agreement of 2002 that brought our military forces home. I remember the early promise of the 2009 joint FARDC and RDF offensives against the Rwandan militia groups dubbed ‘Kimia II and Umoja Wetu’.And I also remember how the successful offensives were then unceremoniously halted by the DRC government.

It feels like it was only yesterday when Felix Tshisekedi held hands with our president as he attended the 2019 Africa CEO Forum in the Kigali Convention Center. Where once he called him a “brother”, Tshisekedi is now, a mere three years later, calling him a “devil”.

I’ve been keenly watching the events over the last couple of months, waiting to see if I would be surprised. But to paraphrase the Bible, there is nothing new under the sun when it comes to our neighbors to the west.  Weak political leadership? Check. Unhelpful foreign meddling? Check. A restive citizenry that is lashing out in all directions? Check. Political posturing? Check. International mining concerns exercising the Dark Arts in the background? Check. Global refusal to guarantee Rwanda’s security interests while remaining dismissive to the threat posed by genocide forces and most especially their ideology of extermination. Check. An unwillingness to appropriately examine the challenges wrought by the 1885 Berlin Conference as well as the subsequent agreements signed by the Belgian, British and German governments that separated the Kinyarwanda speaking people from the Rwandan state. Check.   

To be honest, the only difference I see in this latest brouhaha is the advent of social media platforms like Twitter and their ability to ratchet up unhelpful rhetoric and posturing.  

So, in a nutshell, what we need to make peace with is the fact that we have a neighbor, who through some fault of their own (not ignoring the external forces and historical injustices and traumas they’ve faced) will always give the political leadership of the region a headache. Rwanda’s will just be a stronger kind of headache. A migraine in fact. That is our lot in life. Let us be comfortable in that space and figure out how to continue developing the country and its people. This is just another hurdle we must surmount and I am confident that we shall do just that. We’ve done it before and we shall do it again.