Ibibaya bikina inyange ku mugoroba inyana zitashye – the valleys where egrets play in the evening as calves return home. This poignant line from Umwali's popular Rwandan song, Ibyiza by'u Rwanda (The Beauty of Rwanda), celebrates the inherent beauty and deep cultural connection to land. In the Banyarwanda civilization, especially for those connected to the hoe and the cow, urubaya (plural ibibaya) signifies identity, being, and heritage. ALSO READ: Myths of coltan exploitation in DR Congo It's a concept steeped in historical memory and belonging. Yet, for many Congolese today, and tragically, for the Western commentators who echo their simplified views, Rubaya is synonymous only with minerals. This stark contrast immediately reveals a fundamental disconnect, a dangerous shallowness that requires urgent unpacking to understand the true reality often ignored, or worse, deliberately hidden. To grasp the present, one must confront the past. Before the Berlin Conference of 1885 arbitrarily carved up Africa, Congolese didn't exist. There were Bakongo, Baluba, Bashi, Banyarwanda, Bateke, and hundreds of other distinct peoples. ALSO READ: Africa’s Berlin conference hangover: When European ambitions undermine African solutions They were forcibly unified under Belgian colonial rule as properties, not future citizens. Colonialism never intended to forge nations. When independence arrived, most of these newly proclaimed states, including DR Congo, tragically failed in their nation-building mission. Many remain mired in tribalism; very few have transcended it. DR Congo, Sub-Saharan Africa's largest country at 2,344,858 square kilometres – the size of 16 Western European nations combined – perfectly illustrates this failure. The distance from Kinshasa to Goma in North Kivu is a staggering 2,600 km, like traveling from Lisbon to Copenhagen, with no existing road connecting the two major cities. This geographical disconnect mirrors a profound political and social chasm. Without nation-building governance, it's easy to understand how someone in Kinshasa might not know, or care about, the people of the Kivu. This systemic ignorance about who is truly Congolese laid the groundwork for the virulent anti-Banyarwanda sentiment now poisoning the nation. The situation spiralled tragically in July 1994 when Rwandan genocidal forces (now grouped mainly in what is called FDLR), defeated in Rwanda, poured into eastern Zaire, present day DR Congo. What followed was not their containment, but their systemic complicity with every subsequent government in Kinshasa – from Mobutu to Kabila senior and junior, and now, shockingly, President Felix Tshisekedi. ALSO READ: Why genocide ideology doesn’t dissolve three decades after dispersion of genocidaires Tshisekedi's administration has not only tolerated but integrated FDLR elements as a major component of its forces in the war against Congolese Banyarwanda. This alliance is fuelled by a toxic environment where far-right extremist politicians publicly unleash genocidal hate speech against the very same Congolese Banyarwanda. This transformation from mere ignorance about identity to an active, violent anti-Banyarwanda stance marks a perilous descent for DR Congo. This brings us back to Rubaya, a place Western media incessantly links to minerals while conveniently ignoring its profound significance. For M23, Rubaya is their land, their homeland in DR Congo. It makes one wonder why so many Western commentators and politicians insist M23 must leave their own ancestral territory. This land, along with Masisi, Jomba, and Rutshuru, was once considered DR Congo's granary. The Banyarwanda community, renowned for its hard work and entrepreneurial spirit, modestly and sometimes greatly prospered by providing Kinshasa with meat, milk, cheese, and vegetables – a multi-million-dollar business in the 1980s, flown directly from Kivu. However, the 1990s shattered this peace. The influx of genocidaires plunged eastern DR Congo into chaos, a ripple effect that destabilized the entire Great Lakes region to this very day. Post-1990, new technologies fuelled a demand for minerals, particularly those found in the east. These aren't unique to Masisi; they span the 1,500km-long Kibaran belt stretching from north-east Katanga through Uganda, Tanzania, Burundi, and Rwanda. So, why is Rubaya the only name constantly in the headlines for coltan? The answer is telling: Rubaya only became internationally notorious when M23 took possession of the land during their liberation struggle against the Tshisekedi regime. The notoriety of Rubaya is twofold. Firstly, Banyarwanda locals, adept in business, diversified into mining, developing more organized and consistent operations than anywhere else. Their exploitation gained recognition for its reliability of supply and product. Secondly, and more critically, the mine's current nominal owner, Munyarwanda Senator Édouard Mwangachuchu, is unjustly jailed in Kinshasa, condemned for collusion and conspiracy with M23. The reality points to Tshisekedi and his family attempting to seize the exploitation from Mwangachuchu, who acquired it from local Banyarwanda cooperatives. This leads to a chilling question: who exploited the Rubaya mines between Senator Mwangachuchu's imprisonment and M23's recent takeover? The answer is widely known: the FDLR. So, why did Kinshasa not make noise about Rubaya then? And why did the international media never question a genocidal force exploiting these mines? Why are so many in Western countries now making noise about Rubaya – the land of Congolese Banyarwanda – and why do these Westerners insist that M23 leave their own homeland? Ignorance alone cannot explain this glaring selectivity. At this level, it looks, smells, and tastes like the corruption of greedy people, enabled by a complicit Western media that supports primitive anti-Banyarwanda fascism and, by extension, acts as an accomplice to the very genocidaires operating in DR Congo. A genuine peace deal necessitates addressing all core issues for all parties involved. Anyone with a modicum of understanding recognizes that if root causes persist, they will inevitably undermine any superficial declaration of principles. This is particularly true when one party, as is demonstrably the case with DR Congo under President Tshisekedi, appears to be actively sabotaging the process behind the curtains. Recent revelations of DR Congo's manipulative dealings within ECCAS, overtly targeting Rwanda, are not mere speculation; they are out in the open for all to see. Crucially, it must be acknowledged that negotiations between DR Congo and Rwanda, and directly between Kinshasa and M23, are, in theory, now in place. This represents a significant shift, as Tshisekedi systematically refused direct engagement for a long time, seemingly believing he was too big to fall. This direct engagement was precisely what had been missing since the onset of the crisis. Yet, despite this crucial step, we are still far from seeing any tangible progress. This stasis should trigger an immediate alarm for those who claim to support peace, but instead, it is often Rwanda that remains under the media's microscope. The recurring refrain from analysts that FDLR no longer poses a significant threat to Rwanda stands in stark contrast to the consistent and grave concerns raised by the Rwandan government – a government that has demonstrably ensured the security of 14 million people, 24/7, 365 days a year. To dismiss Rwanda's security concerns as mere rhetoric from an analyst at a desk, devoid of real-world responsibility, is not just irresponsible; it is a profound dereliction of journalistic duty. Then there's the tired invocation of territorial integrity. While a crucial principle, it often serves as a slogan rather than a shared understanding of practical reality. If a nation's security is genuinely imperilled, does it passively await an attack, risking incapacitation, before responding? This is not a theoretical question for Rwanda; it is a lived reality shaped by cross-border incursions and the activities of hostile groups based in DR Congo. Furthermore, the casual claims from analysts and diplomats citing figures like between 7,000 and 12,000 Rwandan soldiers in DR Congo strain credulity. Did these sources also provide names and addresses? Such vague, unsubstantiated numbers from individuals whose impartiality – particularly when situated in DR Congo – is highly questionable, are worth precisely what they're based on: speculation. The true issue is not the exact number of troops, but the undeniable fact that DR Congo has fostered a critical security problem on Rwanda's doorstep, a problem that demands fundamental resolution – a fact that often gets lost in the accusations. The insistence that M23 fighters are simply Rwandan troops reveals a profound historical amnesia or a deliberate disregard for the complex dynamics of the Great Lakes region. Those in Western circles commenting on these issues are either newcomers to a problem spanning three decades or conveniently suffering from memory loss. For the past 30 years, Congolese Banyarwanda communities have been a significant force in every major armed movement within DR Congo: from AFDL with Laurent-Désiré Kabila against Mobutu, to CNDP with Laurent Nkunda, and as a primary component of the Congolese national army (FARDC), and indeed as M23 in 2012. No other demographic in the region possesses such extensive and varied combat experience. To deliberately ignore this history and perpetuate the simplistic narrative of Rwanda discredits those who recycle this tired trope, regardless of their self-proclaimed titles as analysts and diplomats. What consistently gets overlooked, and is arguably the most crucial omission in the current discourse, is the fundamental raison d'être of M23. This group's grievances are intrinsically linked to a set of root causes that remain unaddressed. And as long as these core issues are not confronted head-on and resolved, the region will remain precariously balanced on the brink of further instability. Finally, the relentless accusation of mineral plundering levelled against Rwanda by these same media and analytical circles completely misrepresents Rwanda's strategic imperatives. The very foundation of Rwanda's economic model, which has attracted significant foreign investment and fostered high-end tourism, is its unwavering commitment to security and stability. Rwanda's need for peace and order is paramount, far outweighing any short-term gains from illicit mineral trade. To suggest otherwise is to fundamentally misunderstand a nation whose very survival and prosperity hinge on being a beacon of security in a volatile region. Given the current lack of progress despite the initiation of talks, a critical question must be posed to the “press outlets and the so-called analysts” who have consistently amplified Kinshasa's dangerous false narrative over the realities of peace. Are you truly seeking resolution, or merely perpetuating a biased account? Your unwavering support for Tshisekedi's government, even in the face of its transparent obstructionism, risks undermining the entire peace process. The credibility of the information you disseminate, and your role in shaping public understanding, hinges on your willingness to equally scrutinize all parties and acknowledge the historical complexities. Otherwise, the current negotiations risk becoming yet another performative exercise, allowing the underlying problems to fester, much to the detriment of the long-suffering populations of the Great Lakes. For these purveyors of narrative, the message is clear: cease your selective reporting and recognize the full spectrum of challenges. Ignore the inconvenient truths of Tshisekedi's governance failures, the persistent threat of genocidal forces, and the legitimate grievances of the Congolese Banyarwanda at your peril. When the press and analysts are complicit in obfuscation, the global consequences are literally profound.
