In Mpanda village, Byimana sector, Ruhango district, 98-year-old, Catheline Bwinturo is more than just a weaver; she is a living archive of Rwanda’s cultural heritage. For over 80 years, her hands have skillfully transformed grass into intricate baskets, a craft that has not only preserved tradition but also transformed the lives of thousands of women across the country. Her influence extends far beyond her own craftsmanship. Bwinturo played a pivotal role in establishing the Irebe Basket Collection Cooperative, a women-led initiative that has empowered over 1,000 weavers in Ruhango and beyond. Through her teachings, she has passed down her skills to her daughters and grandson, ensuring that the tradition of Agaseke (Rwandan basket weaving) thrives across generations. A life woven with passion and challenges On a chilly Thursday morning, The New Times visited Bwinturo at her usual workplace, a weaving center for local women. She recalls how she began weaving as a teenager, inspired by the intricate patterns crafted by her elders. Over time, her skill became a means of survival, enabling her to support her family even in difficult times. ALSO READ: Agaseke project transforming women’s lives “I started crafting ordinary baskets at home from a young age. When I got married in 1953, I began making a large basket (Nyabitabo), traditionally prepared before a bride emerged from Gutinya—the period when a newly married woman stayed in seclusion to learn about her new home,” she recalls. In 1957, after losing her husband and with two children to raise, Bwinturo was forced to leave her marital home due to cultural restrictions. Her father-in-law, who was Umwiru (a servant in the king’s palace), adhered to traditions that did not allow her to stay. Facing hardship, she returned to her family home, where she encountered new challenges that tested her resilience and required her to rely on her weaving skills for survival. ALSO READ: From exile to empowerment: How Rose Rwabuhihi pioneered Rwanda's gender equality revolution “I continued my craft, selling baskets to a priest named Mathew, who paid me Rwf5 per basket in addition to my Rwf25 teacher’s salary,” she says. Bwinturo is recognised as a national treasure. She was among the first contributors to the National Ethnographic Museum in Huye after its establishment. One of her most notable works, the Nyamitanga basket (Ikibo)—historically used in the King’s palace—was among the first artifacts collected, signifying its deep cultural significance. She played a crucial role in changing the perception of Agaseke from mere household items to valuable cultural artifacts with economic significance. By mobilising women to join her in weaving, she helped them earn a livelihood. “We started earning Rwf1,000 from weaving, which encouraged more women to join. We walked to Butare, resting in Rusatira, Save, and Rwabuye before reaching our destination. We even once slept at a police station before collecting payments the next day. It wasn’t easy, but it allowed us to buy land for our families,” she recalls. ALSO READ: How single mothers and widows are improving their economic lives through weaving Her weaving gained broader recognition when, after moving to Kigali, she was asked by foreign buyers to use thread instead of traditional banana leaves. This opportunity provided her with enough income to transform her life. Inspired by her success, she encouraged other women to join her, leading to the creation of the COPAR women’s cooperative with 31 members. Although she could no longer travel long distances, her daughters carried on her legacy, and many of the women she mentored established their own businesses. Passing down the legacy Irene Mujawayezu, Bwinturo’s youngest child, grew up watching her mother weave. In the late 1980s, when her primary school required students to bring artistic items, most brought mats, but Irene brought an Agaseke basket. ALSO READ: How Gatsata women weaved their way out of poverty “My mother inspired me. I found a deep passion for weaving, and she encouraged me. She took me to markets, left me in charge of sales records, and sent me across the country to sell baskets. That’s how I became passionate about weaving and built a successful business,” she says. The story of Agaseke is more than artistry—it symbolizes resilience. After the 1994 Genocide against the Tutsi, many women found themselves widowed and struggling. Weaving became a source of hope, offering income and fostering community healing. “Before 1994, Agaseke had little value. However, it later became a lifeline. It wasn’t easy for women to unite, especially when sitting next to someone whose husband had killed theirs. But we focused on what mattered—love, unity, and forgiveness. That spirit helped us rebuild our lives,” Bwinturo recalls. Mujawayezu notes that the value of Agaseke baskets increased from Rwf300 to Rwf3,000 locally before attracting an international investor. Today, it’s rare to find an Agaseke for less than Rwf10,000, empowering women financially and elevating traditional Rwandan craftsmanship to a global audience. Voices of transformation The impact of Bwinturo’s teachings is evident in the voices of those she mentored. Liberatha Kayitesi, a member of the COREBU MPANDA cooperative, shares her experience. “I started in 1988, learning from the women Bwinturo taught. Initially, weaving was just for decoration, but after the genocide, it became a profession. Later, when President Paul Kagame facilitated a deal to supply the U.S. market, we expanded. We taught others for free, and that’s why it was named Agaseke k’Amahoro—a symbol of peace and empowerment,” she explains. Among those carrying on Bwinturo’s legacy is her grandson, Fraterne Ngiruwonsanga, who founded Irebe Basket Collection in 2016. Inspired by his grandmother, he has modernized traditional weaving, introducing innovative designs and expanding markets. His eco-friendly gallery in Kacyiru, near the U.S. Embassy, showcases climate-friendly products for kitchens, decorations, and living spaces. By combining modern business strategies with traditional craftsmanship, he ensures that weaving remains profitable for women in the cooperative. At just 19, Fraterne recognised the urgency of preserving these invaluable skills. “Weaving has provided many with livelihoods, resilience, and community. I aim to expand the market and inspire young people to embrace their culture. Our patterns hold hidden skills and uniqueness,” he says. Bwinturo expresses pride in being a champion of Rwandan culture and empowering women, particularly those in her bloodline who have followed her path. “The patterns we focused on—Umulaza, Umulinzi, and Igembe—held deep meaning for our ancestors. For Agaseke, we mixed black dye from banana leaves with soot. While new patterns emerged, the essence remained unchanged. I am grateful for the work I pioneered,” she says. Bwinturo’s story is now the subject of a documentary titled ‘Hidden Treasure of Weaving,’featuring women artisans, the Rwanda Cultural and Heritage Academy (RCHA), and other artists. Currently in post-production, the film aims to celebrate her legacy and share the stories of Rwanda’s weaving community with the world.
