Fifteen years ago, my friends in FEMRITE, an organisation of women writers in Uganda, asked me to identify a budding woman writer from Rwanda to take part in a women writers workshop in Kampala. It was a pleasant assignment and I thought it was going to be easy. I looked around, and asked people, but could not find any. Not that there weren’t any Rwandan women writers. But they were already established and FEMRITE wanted those beginning to develop their craft. In any case, nearly all of them lived outside the country. There was another limitation. I was looking for writers of imaginative works and in English. But I think even if I had been asked to identify men writing in that genre and language, I would still have had difficulties finding them. That was then, 2008. Many years later, there is a burst in literary activity. Many Rwandan writers, women among them, are writing and publishing their works. Hardly a month passes without the launch of a new book. I am not exaggerating. Perhaps this is the result of a lot of soul-searching that has been going on about why Rwandans are not writing and reading beyond the demands of their jobs, academic requirements, or specific task. The tone in all these discussions has, in the past, been largely a lament about the lack of a reading culture. Interestingly, not much is said about a writing culture. Anyway, the problem is identified, but no answer is ever provided beyond some generalisations. Not much mention of why this culture is absent or how it can be cultivated, or whether in fact there is much to read at all. That too is changing. Lament and hand-wringing, looking for causes or who to blame for the literary barrenness, to borrow the famous phrase of the South Sudanese writer, Taban lo Liyong, have limits. They have given way to a different mode of thinking – finding answers. Some Rwandans have been sufficiently angered or ashamed by the existing situation and have decided to do something about it. Many have been hearing this: we do not tell our own stories but let others do it with all the inaccuracies and distortions. It is, therefore, necessary to tell our own stories and correct the record, giving an authentic account. There is also a growing level of confidence in the ability to tell these stories. It is probably because this is lived experience. Or indignation with the terrible distortion. Or perhaps a reflection of the rebirth of Rwanda as a nation, the respect it enjoys among nations, and the restored dignity of its people. Then there is the fact that there is a lot of material from which to draw for their writing. Rwanda’s recent history, tragic as it was, and perhaps because of that, is a rich reservoir for those writing history, analysing politics, examining social relations and psychological consequences, as well as creative literature. It is therefore not surprising that most of the books written in recent times are a history of this period, biographies centred around the same, and the rebuilding since then. Add a sprinkling of fiction and poetry, and you have pretty much the whole picture. Of note, too, is that many of them are written in Kinyarwanda. Now, not all that is being written and published is of the highest quality. That is to be expected in a nascent industry. But at least it is there. And there are reasons for it. The book industry in this country is still in its infancy. We do have established publishers with the resources and skilled staff to help produce books, or the business connections and know how to run a successful publishing business. If you ask anybody in the business, they will tell you the market is small. There are hardly any local editors capable of helping with the language and style and organisation of the text, checking the facts and content, and advising writers accordingly. Or designers to lay out the work in standard form, readable and attractive. Or proof-readers to check spelling and punctuation and other mechanics. You might think the latter are not necessary since the computer can do that. Not quite. Computers have their limitations. For instance, if you meant to say ‘leave’ but write ‘live’, it won’t help you because both words exist in English. Writing one instead of the other is not misspelling, according to the computer. Then we do not teach writing, or indeed, reading, speaking, and listening in our schools as we should. Yet these are skills that can be taught and learnt. Obviously, teachers of language still have a lot to work on. The writers seem to be determined to go over these limitations to promote the book industry. They are doing their bit: writing. Publishers and booksellers are doing theirs and have set up businesses. All these have formed associations to spur writing, book production and promote a reading culture. There is some positive movement in this direction. One of those responsible for it and the most active in this respect is the Rwanda Federation of Writers which brings together seven associations. Another programme that is doing a lot to connect writers and the public is Cleophas Barore’s weekly Impamba y’Ubumenyi on Rwanda TV. The book industry is making progress, from making the first tentative baby steps to getting steady on the feet and soon should be able to move along briskly and confidently. The laments are becoming less. Soon we might start boasting of a vibrant literary scene. The rest of us can play our part by reading what these writers are putting out there for our enlightenment and enjoyment.
