Isdore Guvamombe Reflections
Back in the village, in the land of milk, honey and dust or Guruve, elders say travelling is learning. This villager, the affable son of the peasant, recently found himself travelling to yonder Rwanda, the land of a thousand mountains, intermittent rolling hills and interlocking valleys.

After flying over boggy marshes, picturesque mountains, above silver lined clouds, the metal bird finally landed and rattled to a halt in Kigali, at the bewitching hour of 2am.

Back in the village, the witches would have been busy that time with their nocturnal buffet feasts. And, guess what, there are witches in central Africa, so they must have been startled and distracted to see this villager, under a trademark hat at that wee hour.

On the villager’s tow was one Sugar Chagonda, the boy from Gutu, that land of insurmountable dearth, no wonder why his hair has greyed prematurely. Poverty! Unlike the village autochthons, whose hair has grown cotton tuft white from wisdom, his is out of malicious poverty.

Then there was Dr Darlington Muzeza, the man from Dande, forever darkened by the blistering heat of the Zambezi Valley. Then there was Gapare, the charismatic protocol man. We soon found our way into the innards of Kigali. The bus hissing and puffing as it slithered and groaned past hair pin curves, blind rises and much everything else.

After a shot sleep, a hot morning greeted us, and the travelling spectacle started. We had two options; to use a hired kombi that was a very expensive $10 per day to a venue less than 5km away or a bike at about $5 a day. For the bus, all you needed was buy a swipe card. Call it plastic money. Zimbabwe could pretty well copy on the swipe machines deftly placed on the bus entrance, given the advent of plastic money in the land of Munhumutapa.

Dr Muzeza and Chagonda are both huge men who love smart and executive suits. The suits fit them, too. Both men are dark. The description ends here. Both decided to go on bikes. Yes, they were, carried on the back of the bikes, in their suits. This villager said hell no, life should be expensive. Why do a bike and go back home in a body bag? It was quite a spectacle, seeing these huge men clinging precariously onto a motor bike driver. I cringed!

My mind reminded me of that incident, as a young spike haired boy, falling off a bicycle on the steep between Guruve Hotel and the District Administrator’s offices. The incident rolled back but off the guys went on the motorbike. The villager followed by bus, looking around for any fallen bodies of his colleagues.

At the meeting venue, Chagonda stood a towering figure, shaking and relating how he cringed and clung on precariously on the motorbike as it slithered up and down the mountains. Dr Muzeza was calm and looked very comfortable.

Boy oh boy, Rwanda is smart and clean! For the close to two weeks I spent there, I saw no single paper on the ground. I went deeper into the suburbs and the story was the same. Unconfirmed reports say President Kagame takes a day off his busy schedule, one day a month to clean his home area, and sends each Member of Parliament back to their constituency to clean up on that particular day.

We went into a barber shop and hey, the place was smart. Someone is forever cleaning the place. Chagonda was asked by the barber, where he came from — probably because of his huge pot-bellied stature — and when he said Zimbabwe, the barber stopped, reached for his phone and played a clip. “. . . Tony Blair Keep your England and I keep my Zimbabwe!” The guy had four more clips from President Mugabe’s speeches. They call him Mzee, the clever Old man. We were shocked.

Transport in Rwanda is an assortment of motorbikes and kombis. The tout menace is not there. Traffic jams are eased by bikes.

National pride is plenty. Ask them about their tribes and they will tell you that tribes are not important. What is important is that they are Rwandese. The genocide killed millions of people but they have moved on and buried it behind them. They are now one united country and no one wants to talk about the past. They respect and love their President and have even asked him to change the constitution and take an extra term of office.

I saw no roadblocks, only traffic controls at bad intersections.

 

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