On my way from Johannesburg, I switched airplanes from Kenyan Airways to RwandaAir at Jomo Kenyata International Airport.
While on board, I sat close to a very cute lady, from her looks, I could possibly guess she was from the m’Urwagasaba clan. I asked her whether she was Rwandan and she said she was. This one question led to another and finally an hour-long discussion. We spoke Kinyarwanda with calmness.
Behind me were two chatty people, the waves of their sound steadily crossed my ear without disturbance. Their discussion was soft music to my ear. It was different, because elsewhere discussions seem like disputes. Take Afrikaans for instance, during a romantic discussion between two lovers – will sound like a wife-husband quarrel, to a non-native. The accent is heavy with circuitous sounds bubbling out of the throat.
As we approached Kigali International Airport, I glanced at the gorgeous mountains, and glorious hills of this wonderful land, Rwanda, my home. The grass is green; the trees wave against the breeze and the environment reflects the serenity of its residents. I was awestruck as we descended to the Godly grounds. Tidiness captured my eye. Of course, there are great beautiful towers in foreign land, but they are not as tidy as the short bungalows of Rwanda.
As I entered the service center at the airport, the beautiful expressions of the people there captured my feelings. I marked a difference I had never marked before. I felt what it meant to be proudly Rwandan.
Although I was proud to be a Rwandan, I had never before considered the Rwandan Identity as so special. There is something very deep about being Rwandan, so deep that it can bring effervescence to places where boredom seems to permeate the very walls.
All generations carry smiles on their faces. The Rwandan expression and peaceful environment is perhaps what makes God spend his days on elsewhere but sleeps here m’ Urwagasabo. This Rwandan Identity exalts, I feel more proud than I have ever been.