Once upon a time, there was a mountain called Saba, where Sebantu lived with his children — Kanyarwanda, Karundi, and Kakongo. The river gave them water, the mountains gave them shelter, the cows gave them milk, and the elders gave them wisdom.

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Unity was at the heart of their lives, deeply woven into the fabric of the community. A person was a person through others. They raised their children together, for every child was a treasure belonging to all.

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But as all human beings must one day return to the earth, the time came when Sebantu passed away. After his passing, Karundi moved south to the Mountain of Isumba with his children, and Kakongo went east to the Mountain of Isaka with his own. Kanyarwanda’s children remained on the Mountain of Saba.

Though they now lived separately, their unity continued and it became the envy of the scattered kingdoms around them. It was this unbreakable connection that carried them through times of hardship — especially during the great famine — when they shared everything, from the wisdom of the eldest elder to the milk for the newest baby, so that no one would perish from hunger.

One day, a stranger arrived at the Mountain of Saba. He came from the farthest northern lands, where people spoke only of their own success, saw their neighbours as rivals for resources, and valued their own property above the needs of the community.

The stranger’s name was Kabirigi.

He carried with him bright ideas and glittering playthings, and his words shone with confidence. He told the people of Saba that their customs were old-fashioned, and that their communal way of life was inefficient and backward.

Kabirigi told them they were not truly siblings. He told them that the story of their unity was nothing but a myth.

According to him, Kanyarwanda had three sons: Sebatutsi, father of the Batutsi; Sebahutu, father of the Bahutu; and Sabatwa, father of the Batwa.

Kabirigi told them that Sebatutsi was not truly Kanyarwanda’s child. He claimed that Sebatutsi had come from the far north and had encountered an indigenous people — Sebahutu and his children — whose land he had taken through cunning and deceit.

Kabirigi then sent his brother Gatuku to teach the same wisdom to Karundi’s children in Isumba, and his cousin Kawera to spread it among the children of Kakongo in Isaka.

In Saba, Kabirigi whispered to the children of Sebahutu, urging them to make sure the children of Sebatutsi leave their lands and return northward, to the place he claimed they came from. A child of a foreigner should never reign over them or their land, he advised.

At first, the people of Saba — especially the children of Sebahutu — saw no harm in these new teachings, for they seemed to grant them power over the children of Sebatutsi. Kabirigi taught one person at a time, whispering his instructions in secret and demanding a high price for his wisdom: loyalty to him, once they gained power over Sebatutsi’s children.

Slowly, the people of Saba began to notice differences among themselves.

The children, once raised by the whole community, now stayed within their own family circles, and learned lessons of suspicion and division where once they had learned sharing and trust. The people who had once stood together as one body began to turn against one another.

Kabirigi helped Sebahutu’s children in their plan to overthrow Sebatutsi. He stirred division among the children of Kanyarwanda, lying that Sebatutsi had abused his leadership and no longer cared for his brothers.

Then the children of Sebahutu rose against their kin. They struck down thousands of their brothers and forced hundreds of thousands more into exile. Their rebellion and the long exile that followed marked the end of the rule of the children of Sebatutsi.

Thirty years later, Sebatutsi and his children returned home. They fought those who had cast them out and restored the unity of Kanyarwanda’s descendants under the banner of "Ndi Umunyarwanda” — I am Rwandan.

Unfortunately, some of Sebahutu’s children fled to neighboring lands, including Isaka, home of the children of Kakongo. When they arrived, they met some of Kakongo’s descendants who had long embraced the teachings of Kawera. Together, they spread the same philosophy of division that Kabirigi brought to Saba.

In Isaka, they continued their acts of cruelty, burning villages belonging to Kakongo’s children, often with the support of Kawera’s followers. They called their victims foreigners and invaders, claiming they were linked to the children of Kanyarwanda.

But one day, the children of Sebantu — the descendants of Kanyarwanda, Karundi, and Kakongo — stood in silence. They looked not to the elders for answers, but to the ground beneath their feet. Their shame was a heavy cloak.

It was the young who had never known true unity who were the first to speak.

"We can change,” said one.

"We can remember,” said another.

And so, they began the long, painful journey of remembering and changing, opening their doors once more to one another. When Kabirigi, Gatuku, and Kawera rose again to sow division among them, Sebantu’s children stood firm and fought not as individuals, but as the great community they had once been.

The victory was hard-won, and the scars of their past remained. But from their struggle they learned a profound truth: unity is not a birthright, but a constant and deliberate choice.

The discord in Isumba, Isaka, and Saba slowly melted away. The mountains stood firm once more, and Sebantu’s children remembered and changed. They were no longer the quarrelling villagers shaped by Kabirigi, Gatuku, and Kawera. They had become one people — Bene Muntu — united not by a shared task, but by a shared purpose.

From that day forward, the three mountains stood as the lasting testament that when people put aside their differences and work together, their combined strength can heal not only the land but also their own hearts.