In 2004, I explored three historical sites in Gakenke District: the Stone (Ibuye) of Bagenge, the Rocked Spatula (Umwuko) of Nyirantsibura, and the Well (Iriba) of Nyirarucyaba. When I asked who could explain the history of these landmarks, local residents directed me to Elder Simeoni Rwagizenkana, a man regarded in the area as a living archive of Rwanda’s oral history. Rwagizenkana did more than explain the three sites. He shared a much broader account of Rwanda’s past, including the conflict involving Gihanga’s descendants, particularly Sabugabo and Gahima. He told me that Gahima’s mother fled the conflict together with her grandson, Musindi. According to the oral tradition Rwagizenkana had received from earlier generations, Gahima’s mother eventually died in Ndorwa, where a tree later grew over her grave and became associated with her memory. Rwagizenkana was not the only elder from whom I heard this account. Around the same period, I visited Elder Gahirima Mathias at his home near ibigabiro in Gasabo. Gahirima gave a similar account. He recalled that, following his father’s death, Musindi moved from Nyamirembe and established a new royal residence in Gasabo. There was, however, one point on which Rwagizenkana’s account appeared to differ from the genealogy I had studied: Musindi was Gihanga’s grandson, rather than his son. Musindi later returned to Nyamirembe, but by then his grandmother had already died during their period away from home. Years of hearing these accounts stirred my curiosity about what is today known as the Nakayima tree in Uganda. I wanted to see the site for myself and explore whether the name Nakayima might be connected to Nyiragahima in Rwanda’s oral tradition. In 2005, my wife, Marie Claire Uwera, and I travelled to Uganda to visit the tree. Our guide, an elderly local woman, shared the history associated with the site. While she said she did not know Nakayima’s precise origins, she told us that local tradition held that Nakayima had not been born in Mubende but had moved there later in life. To me, that detail strengthened the possibility of a connection between the Nakayima tradition in Uganda and the Nyiragahima account I had heard in Rwanda. The wider story begins with Gihanga and the succession struggles associated with his family. According to the tradition I encountered, Gihanga had five children: Nyirarucyaba, Sabugabo, Gahima, Mugondo and Gashubi. His succession became the subject of competing claims. Nyirarucyaba had a strong claim based on seniority and achievement, particularly her association with the introduction of cattle to the kingdom. Sabugabo, meanwhile, claimed the crown on the basis of male primogeniture. Gihanga ultimately appointed Gahima, his third child, as his successor. Yet Nyirarucyaba’s place in the royal tradition was not forgotten. Oral accounts hold that a tradition was established whereby future coronations of Rwandan kings would also involve a descendant of Nyirarucyaba, preserving her symbolic place in the monarchy. For Sabugabo, however, the decision meant watching another sibling receive royal recognition while his younger brother inherited the leadership. The dispute between Sabugabo and Gahima intensified following their father’s death. Gahima had a son named Musindi, whom he took to Gala for protection as tensions mounted. There, the young Musindi was cared for by Gahuriro, the maternal uncle of Nyiragahima. This period of exile is remembered in the oral account as an early example of kubunda — the practice of leaving one’s ancestral or parental home in the face of mortal danger. Musindi left Nyamirembe together with his grandmother, Nyiragahima. Nyiragahima, who is also remembered by the name Nyamususa, is said to have died during this period. According to the tradition I have followed, the tree later known as Nakayima grew over her burial place. Today, the Nakayima tree, standing at about 40 metres, is associated with one of the best-known traditional spiritual sites in the Great Lakes region. For generations, the site has carried religious, cultural and historical significance. My encounter with the oral histories surrounding Nyiragahima and the traditions connected to the Nakayima tree left me with a larger question: how much of the shared history of the Great Lakes region has been overlooked because historical scholarship has too often treated communities within modern national boundaries as separate stories? I believe the connection deserves deeper investigation. I also believe that some colonial and Western historical accounts did more than simply overlook such connections. By recording the histories of Rwanda, Uganda and neighbouring societies largely within separate political and administrative frameworks, they may have obscured older relationships that crossed what later became national borders. Whether this resulted from deliberate choices, colonial assumptions or the limitations of the historical methods used at the time remains a subject that deserves serious scholarly examination. What should not be lost is the value of oral tradition itself. Stories preserved by elders such as Rwagizenkana and Gahirima may offer important clues to a regional history that is broader and more interconnected than conventional accounts suggest. The Nakayima tree may therefore be more than a spiritual landmark in Uganda. It may also be a reminder that the histories of the peoples of the Great Lakes region have long crossed the borders that define them today. The writer is a media specialist, historian and playwright.
