In the early 1980s, a group of Rwandan refugees from various refugee camps and other local setups in Uganda joined St Edwards College Bukumi, a Christian brothers' secondary school located in the jungles of Bugangaizi county in Bunyoro District in western Uganda, currently called Kakumiro district.

The school stood so remote that, at times, we had to walk the 10km plus distance from Kakumiro trading center, where the trucks would drop us off, to go to school, most of the time at night.

This night journey to school in the dark often involved dangerous animals and snakes. As was typical of our upbringing, we organized ourselves into column files and positioned our sisters in the middle, sandwiched for security from any unplanned intruding enemy, human or animal.

Upon joining and settling at the school, we received a humiliating brand name of "NYARU" amongst all other fellow students to depict and constantly remind us that we were Rwandan and refugees, not nationals. That stigma has never left my mind.

Despite how well one performed in all school activities, every fellow national student echoed that brand! Soon after, some of our compatriots attempted to change their names to Ugandan ones, but each remained what they were in the eyes of the Ugandans.

However, instead of weakening us, this enforced inferiority complex and humiliation transformed into a fighting and uniting factor to realize who we were and what we stood for! Rwandans and nothing less! Hence, our values and cultural standards had to prevail across the board. We began participating in our cultural dances like others, formed defensive groups that protected our young and weak ones from local aggression by fellow students who always wanted to take advantage of our status, and many times we clashed, stood our ground, and maintained our standards.

Later, we organized ourselves into support groups where those in upper classes supported and guided lower ones across the board for our study revisions to improve our performance.

Student Union for Rwandan Exiles "SURE" - A Rwandan student Social and cultural group was also born across the country, and we all joined as activists for its cause! Through it, we shared notes and ideas during holidays, which we implemented back at school after the holidays. All these forms the background of what our Rwandan teachers contributed to shaping us as Rwandans in spirit and character, which laid the foundation of the Renaissance/rebirth of our country.

Teacher Peter Claver Nkurunziza was one of our mentors, a parent, teacher, protector, and caretaker at the time! He still lives with some of us and was a key player in the background, as I provided in the preamble/introduction to draw your attention. You, the reader, must understand the situation we found ourselves in, joining school very young, innocent, and ignorant, from our deprived homes, respectively. We could not have made it through quickly and united as never before had we not found dedicated patriotic Rwandan school teachers who had influence and presence in the schools we joined. Late Teacher Nkurunziza happened to be one of those.

At the time I joined, he served as an agriculture teacher and head of the department.

My experience!

The first time I sat in his class was in a well-equipped Agricultural Lab with every agricultural tool, machinery, equipment, and all types of fertilizer samples you can name. A tall, towering figure with an extremely light complexion, big, beaming eyes, and an infectious smile, who is very smartly dressed in a white shirt and black trousers, walks in and greets us! "Good morning, class! My name is Peter Claver Nkurunziza!"

My heart pounds! In my mind, a million questions rattle my thinking! Could this be true?? A Rwandan teacher, or am I dreaming? A refugee or a Mufumbira? Santa Maria!! God be with us!! Of course, the Ugandan students remained in the "to whom it may concern" mood! Then he continued, "I will be your agriculture teacher from today onwards, and our classes will comprise theory and fieldwork."

"Let's start by defining Agriculture. Do you have any ideas?" And the class continued! That first day, I didn't study the agriculture lesson but instead spent the class time admiring and studying my new Rwandan teacher's aloofness, praying he wouldn't be a Mufumbira!

In the evening after class, I sat with a group of Ingata/Abapya, the S1 students, as we were called, and narrated my discovery and experience! Everyone listened, pinned on me, and was attentive, similar to how we listened to Radio Rwanda evening News, Umurongo wa 49 SW, read by Amabilis Sibomana, because one had to go back and relay the same news word for word to elders back home waiting to know what was happening in their motherland.

As I grew accustomed to and admired my new teacher and did my homework about his origin, one day after class, a golden opportunity arose! I guess he had taken an interest in my name too and was asking himself the same question. "Was I a refugee or a Kisoro boy?”

Teacher Nkurunziza lived in a third house after our Agriculture Lab and wanted to check in at home before going to the staffroom, so after class, he asked me to carry his books and drop them off at the staff room.

My heart pounded fast. I seized this chance to solve my problem! In a flash of so many consequences that might come with what I was about to do, I swallowed a pin! "Mira pin," so I created a foolish pretense and asked him in Kinyarwanda, "Sir, which desk do I put them on? "Mbishyire kuyihe desk mwali?"

To my emotional expectations and surprise, he calmly answered, "Ubaze Desk yange barayikwereka." Ahuuu! I breathed a sigh of jubilation! Deep in my mind, I told myself, "Ndakuvumbuye Mwali uri uwacu tu!" which meant I had discovered you! His Kinyarwanda accent simply vindicated him. You're ours!! That evening, after dinner, the news broke as headlines! All Rwandan students camped out to listen to what I had discovered, like the Belgians always convince the world they found the parts of Rwanda they annexed to Congo!!! But imagine, of course, all senior students knew he was a Rwandan from a refugee camp, like many of us! Yet getting closer to them when you're a senior student was more like a priest sharing a glass of wine with the Pope in a Catholic setting.

From that day, we grew closer and closer, and something extraordinary happened at the end of the term! As we prepared for the holiday, we needed to find where to leave our belongings! A mattress and all those minor personal effects, and we discovered teachers Nkurunziza and Phocus Mutaga, and the deputy headmaster had taken this service for Rwandan students!

The deputy headmaster was married to a Rwandan lady named Elizabeth, and because of that, we enjoyed numerous favours! But specifically, Teacher Nkurunziza and Mutaga provided something deeper and special! At the end of the year, they hosted a private farewell party in their homes in total concealment, a daring move that broke the law of students being out of bounds! These parties, love, and commitment forged a bond of unity and patriotism that one can never measure in words.

In these sessions, they gave us advice/impanuro on who we were! They reminded us of our origins and taught us how we ought to behave beyond the nationals and beat them at their own game! I remember an incident where one of our girls tried to form a relationship with a national, so young and ignorant, we protested it and called her to order! Amidst that scaffolding, we were reported to the headmaster, and an imminent suspension was looming! At the time, a suspension of a refugee student amounted to a death sentence!

I knew my French teacher, Mr. Mutaga, through God's grace. I explained the blunder we had committed, he listened carefully, and then he said, "Look, I will handle it, don't worry! We used to experience the same cases with our Rwandan girls in Mary Hill when we were at Ntare, and we always solved them the Rwandan way." He rushed to engage the headmaster and intervened with an argument that that's how Rwandans solved their internal issues, and from that time onwards, nobody dared to set our standards!

In our tribute to our dark days, teachers and parents who upheld that generation, late teacher Nkurunziza Peter played a pivotal role in shaping us into what we were to become at a critical moment when we needed him most in the dark days of stateless life, struggling with our education.

I later met him here back in the country as the headmaster of a school, where I subsequently served on the board of parents! He became a close friend and a parent! He has left a significant impact and legacy on those who went through his hands, and he is truly our hero!

Go well, Teacher Nkurunziza. Your Seeds are living and will live forever! You're not Dead; you've just changed your form of life! RIP, NPC, until we meet!

Editor’s note: After 1994, Nkurunziza became the founding head teacher of Rwanda International Academy, later renamed Kigali International Academy and it is presently Kagarama High School.