I visited Nyamagabe District with a bunch of Kigali dwellers, most of whom I had never met before. I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t find many familiar faces in the bus en route to our destination. Most of my travel companions had never crossed paths before. We arrived at the camp located in Kitabi Sector late in the evening. After dinner, the bonfire was lit, beverages were consumed and strangers became friends. We sat around the fire and shared stories. This is as close as we can get to the oral tradition embraced by our ancestors. Camping encourages real social interaction currently threatened by addictive devices we happen to be glued to. There was one annoying camper who was determined to spoil my night. He is probably the worst singer in the world but for some insane reason, he never stopped singing. Some people should not be allowed to sing even in their own churches. When I unzipped my nylon tent in the morning, gleams of sunrise and the beauty of the green (camellia sinensis) plants left me speechless. Plantation workers were already busy picking leaves with baskets hanging on their backs. I had slept for three hours only, thanks to the worst singer in the world who volunteered to entertain us all night long. After a warm bath and several cups of tea, I checked out and put my backpack in the bus. It was one hour before departure to Nyungwe National Park. Some campers, including the awful singer were still snoring in their tents. I spent that hour marvelling at the sprawling plantations and talking to the camp manager. Our host revealed to me that he owes everything he has to the plants I was admiring. Those green leaves sent him to school and transformed his entire community. A lot of tea was at our disposal but some campers, including the worst singer ever preferred intoxicating distilled products. No wonder his vocal cords produce terrible songs. Tea is the second most widely consumed drink in the world behind water. In most households, breakfast is never served without it. Like it was the case during the Chinese Tang dynasty, this aromatic refreshment is also consumed for recreational purposes. When I returned to Kigali, I had several new stories to tell and great memories to cherish. While camping, I borrowed a leaf from our ancestors’ lifestyle and enhanced my affinity to the authentic Rwanda Mountain Tea. I couldn’t charge my phone in the tent I slept in but my mind, body and soul were recharged. The author is an adventurer on a mission to discover what Rwanda has to offer. Follow his awe-inspiring journey on the Sunday Times and exposure.rw.
