It was a chilly, sunlit mid-morning when we arrived at Kwetu Film Institute and Hillywood Café, tucked into the serene hills of Gacuriro. This creative haven is where seasoned filmmaker Eric Kabera spends his hours — either overseeing the production of Rwandan-made content or mentoring the next generation of filmmakers, actors, and actresses. Accompanied by my videographer (yes, you can catch this interview in video format too), we quickly settled into a conversation. Time is always of the essence, and we were eager to hear Kabera’s story, especially in a year that saw him add more awards to his collection. ALSO READ: PHOTOS: Top film stars hit the red carpet at Zacu's end-of-year bash “I was born and raised in the former Zaire, now the DR Congo,” Kabera began, his voice carrying a quiet confidence. “I grew up speaking Swahili and a bit of Kinyarwanda at home. I picked up English at school in Goma, but it was during trips to Uganda that I learned more. My love for media and filmmaking started from a deep interest in listening to people — their problems, their dreams, and their commentary on life.” Rwandan coffee arrived just as Kabera reminded us that Kwetu, his studio, champions everything local. The coffee didn’t disappoint, and neither did his recollections: “What triggered my passion was human interest — talking to people, listening to them. I loved good commentary too, especially in sports,” he said. “Back then, it wasn’t about fancy equipment or perfect opportunities. When I returned to Rwanda in the mid-90s, I worked with prominent media organizations like the BBC, Channel 4, NPR, and France 2.” “I started as a fixer, guide, and journalist, traversing Rwanda during a time when many roads weren’t even paved. It was through these experiences — meeting survivors, perpetrators, and politicians — that I found my purpose: storytelling,” he added. ALSO READ: Mighty Popo casts East African stars in music-inspired movie Kabera’s breakthrough came with “100 Days,” the first feature film documenting the 1994 Genocide against the Tutsi. “We chose that name because the genocide unfolded within 100 days,” he explained. Teaming up with British journalist Nick Hughes, they embarked on an ambitious project that opened doors for other filmmakers. “We didn’t set out to dominate the industry; we simply wanted the Rwandan story told.” From that pivotal film, Kabera transitioned into creating “Keepers of Memory”, a documentary giving voice to survivors. “It wasn’t easy,” he admitted. “Promoting films about genocide is delicate. It’s not about red carpets and self-promotion; it’s about respect and honoring the lives lost.” His work didn’t go unnoticed. CNN and The Oprah Winfrey Show profiled subjects from his documentaries, amplifying their stories to global audiences. But Kabera’s vision stretched further. Recognizing the need for young storytellers in Rwanda, he founded the Rwanda Cinema Center — a nonprofit organization that trains aspiring filmmakers and nurtures cinematic discourse. “This is how Hillywood was born,” Kabera shared. “We started with a school, collaborating with partners from the UK, Germany, the US, Japan, and Africa. Today, technology is more accessible, and anyone can tell their story. But you still need the technical and artistic knowledge to do it well.” For Kabera, Rwanda’s filmmaking journey mirrors the country’s recovery and renaissance. “The film industry reflects where Rwanda has been, where we are, and where we’re going. It’s about capacity-building, sharing knowledge, and creating spaces where African filmmakers can thrive.” What role do you see training and exposure playing in Rwanda’s growing film industry, and how can we build an ecosystem that supports and sustains local talent? My vision is for Rwanda to earn the recognition it truly deserves, but we still have a long road ahead. We're in the process of training, exposing, and encouraging different stakeholders—businessmen, policymakers, and entrepreneurs—to invest in and value the film industry. It’s not just about entertainment; it's layered with cultural significance. The film is a platform to showcase our culture, express political philosophies, and uphold the dignity that Africa deserves in the global arena. That has been my mission and passion. If you look at films from Africa, often they are criticized for poor sound, bad camera angles, and low production value. But, just like building a house, filmmaking must adhere to high standards. We still have a way to go, and I wouldn’t claim we have a thriving film industry just yet, but policy changes are underway. Over the last 20 years, I’ve trained over 1,500 individuals at the Rwanda Cinema Center and the Kwetu Film Institute. Some are now filmmakers in their own right. The industry is growing, but aspiring filmmakers need to understand that this journey requires resilience, patience, and sacrifice. It's not just about acting—filmmaking is a philosophy. I encourage young talent to be committed, to learn, and to be willing to get their hands dirty. For those who’ve stayed the course, it’s paid off—they’ve become directors, producers, and videographers. The key to success in this industry is competitiveness and excellence. We are seeing beautiful creations emerge from Rwanda, with more young people inspired by what’s being done. It’s about creating an ecosystem where we support one another, building on each other's strengths. This will propel us forward. Rwanda's leadership has set the foundation, and with more training institutions and cultural spaces, the ecosystem will continue to thrive. How do you think the arts and culture scene in Kigali can evolve, and what role do you see for corporate organisations in supporting this growth beyond traditional marketing? Featuring some of the artists at the Kigali Triennial was a great opportunity for people to see beyond the usual sights of motorbikes and city streets. I followed the event closely but, unfortunately, I couldn’t attend or participate as I was in Los Angeles at the time. The Triennial introduced a new dimension to how arts and culture are consumed here in Kigali. What would be ideal is for institutions like the City of Kigali, Bank of Kigali, or BRD to think outside the box in their corporate social responsibility (CSR) efforts. Instead of just advertising products, they could use art to promote their initiatives in a meaningful way. I’m not just talking about commercial ads like, 'Drink Virunga Water,' but perhaps having an artist explain the story behind sparkling water. This would resonate more with people and make a lasting impact. Given your perspective on copyright laws, collaboration, and the role of AI in creativity, how do you think young artists can navigate the balance between protecting their intellectual property and fostering a culture of open collaboration and innovation? There’s a lot of debate around copyright, especially when it comes to young artists trying to establish themselves. My advice is simple: create, collaborate, and learn. The complex copyright frameworks of places like Los Angeles or Paris aren’t always suitable for our context. It’s crucial to protect intellectual property, but it shouldn’t stifle creativity. If someone takes inspiration from your work, that’s okay—what matters is that you created something original. Take Michael Jackson and Manu Dibango’s story: they reached a mutual understanding without legal battles, and that was important. Creation is a process of learning, from both the talented and the less experienced. What’s key is respecting those influences and staying focused on originality. Sometimes, sharing a small project can have a ripple effect you never expect. For example, our documentary Intore reached New York and inspired artists to visit Rwanda. That led to Inganzo Ngari performing at the Brooklyn Academy of Music. It was a powerful experience. You never know who’s watching, and that’s why it’s important to share, no matter how small the project. This is my philosophy: always create and share your story. As for AI, I believe it can amplify creativity, but it doesn’t replace human ingenuity. AI needs direction, and we must be cautious in its use. It should complement human input, not overshadow it. How do you approach the challenge of curating impactful content that resonates both locally and internationally, and how do you balance artistic expression with the practicalities of production and distribution? We're collaborating with partners from Europe, the U.S., and locally to create a global platform that helps others pursue their passions. Setting up even a small screening, like for 'The Woman in Me,' involves logistics—deciding who will attend, when, where, and whether there's enough support like drinks or a technical setup. These are the details often overlooked, but they matter. Sometimes, people attend events and feel they were poorly executed—this lack of curation shows. We're also working on several productions, including the feature film 'Love on a Motor,' which has been in development for ten years, as well as the documentary 'The Woman in Me.' Another project, 'Queen and the Client,' is an entertaining yet thought-provoking TV show. It offers a look at Rwanda from an artistic lens, tackling important life issues like banking, legal matters, marriage, and mental health through the eyes of waiters in a café. It’s light, fun, and accessible, in contrast to Rwanda's political or highly intellectual narratives. The idea is that even small productions can have big impacts. Quality matters, and we aim for work that’s competitive on platforms like Netflix and Amazon. We’ve seen this with 'Africa United,' a film we made around the 2010 World Cup, which is now available on Netflix. While there’s a lot of content out there, we believe in producing work that’s more than just for views—it should empower audiences intellectually and socially. Our approach emphasizes relevance and respect for our audience, whether it’s in Rwanda or globally. Through initiatives like our film school and festival, we aim to inspire change by exposing people to global perspectives, shaping how they see the world and interact with others. What has been your experience with the recognition of your work, and how do you see the role of film in shaping both Rwanda’s image and global perceptions of gender equality? Awards are gratifying but not the ultimate goal. My experience at the African film festival in Leuven, Belgium, exemplifies that. Despite not expecting recognition, I was humbled to receive a Lifetime Achievement Award for my work in film. For young creators, it’s important to focus on making meaningful work, not just chasing accolades. At first, I wasn't sure what to expect. There was a certain level of recognition tied to the work I did, but it came with its own set of limitations and the people I collaborated with. One surprising moment came when my team shared some of the films at the Africa Films for Impact Festival. They were particularly interested in The Woman in Me. We sent the film, and towards the end, I was told I needed to travel to Nigeria to collect a trophy. I had no idea the film was even considered for competition. Initially, I thought about sending someone from the Rwandan mission in Nigeria to collect it on my behalf, but then a good coincidence happened— the festival was in Abuja, and our embassy was there. I reached out to our ambassador, who was very kind, and arranged for the embassy’s team to pick up the award and ship it back via DHL. It was just a piece of wood, but it felt rewarding, a small gesture that encouraged me to keep pushing forward with my work. The Woman in Me is more than just a film about Rwanda—it captures the country's transformative journey through the eyes of both women and men. Rwanda has the highest number of female parliamentarians in the world, and gender parity has been a priority. This progress comes with its own set of contradictions—some men and even some women weren’t quite prepared for it. The film explores this dialogue but ultimately celebrates women. Whether they are mothers, daughters, or sisters, they are the backbone of society. I showed the film in Nigeria, Los Angeles, and other places, where men and women of all ages came up to me, saying they saw themselves reflected in the story. The gender dialogue transcends Rwanda—it’s a global conversation that every society grapples with. The film aims to empower African nations to understand that transformation comes with challenges, but it’s important to be ready for those challenges and to have an open dialogue about them. It’s not just a film—it incorporates a philosophical and intellectual exploration, with a cultural and artistic layer that includes voices from across Rwanda’s society: businesspeople, rural and urban women, artists, and so on. It’s not a highly sophisticated production, but it captures interest and sparks the imagination. As a filmmaker, what are some of the most common challenges you face when bringing your vision to life, especially when others struggle to understand or relate to your ideas? How do you stay motivated to push through those moments of doubt? Filmmakers, like any other creators, face numerous challenges. The first is often financial, followed by a lack of understanding, even from close friends or family. When young filmmakers come to me with ideas, I sometimes struggle to understand their vision. But as a filmmaker, you have to visualize what others can’t see. For instance, if you’re creating a story about a Rwandan kid traveling to South Africa for the World Cup, it might be hard for someone unfamiliar with the context to grasp. Similarly, the concept of a woman from America falling in love with Rwanda and deciding to stay might sound far-fetched to some. But as a filmmaker, you must believe in your vision and push forward, even when others don’t immediately understand it. There are always challenges in creating art—especially in a developing nation with limited resources—but with a creative mindset, solutions can be found. Do you think filmmaking is a viable career path for aspiring creators, and where can audiences find your films to experience your work firsthand? We’re pitching various projects to organizations and individuals to sustain this platform and keep the conversation going. Filmmaking opens doors and takes you places. However, the real challenge is not making a film, but selling it. Some of my films, like Keepers, were sold to TV Ontario in Canada, and Intore was screened on PBS. These films can also be shown locally, and we host private screenings to inspire other filmmakers or artists. As for distribution, Africa United can be streamed on Netflix, and Intore is in talks with a platform called In the Black Network, which we believe will be key to showcasing Rwandan films internationally. Local platforms like Zacu TV and networks like RBA have been excellent at promoting locally-produced content. The people in charge of acquisitions often approach filmmakers to commission projects before they’re even made, which is encouraging. But there’s still a gap in terms of funding. In countries like France and Canada, there are budgets specifically allocated to filmmakers, which helps ensure their national cultures are represented in their media. If Rwanda had a similar system in place, it would go a long way in supporting filmmakers and ensuring that our stories are told. That’s part of the conversation we’re having with local organizations like the Rwanda Film Office. There’s a growing dialogue, and it’s important to be patient. I believe that in time, we will see more support for young talent, and people will begin to expect more locally-produced films, whether it’s sci-fi, comedy, or drama. It’s a slow process, but things are moving in the right direction.
