Arriving on RwandAir’s direct flight WB220 from Accra to Kigali around 10pm, I was greeted by the gentle Kigali breeze as I stepped onto the tarmac, reminiscent of an embrace from an old friend.

The immigration process proved to be brief and smooth. After the officer swiftly scanned my travel documents and asked a few questions about my visit’s purpose and duration, I proceeded to the luggage collection area. There, bags were already rotating on the belt, each traveler easily locating their belongings.

With a cart in tow, I swiftly gathered and loaded my luggage before exiting the airport, ready to embark on my eight-day adventure in Rwanda.

This marked my inaugural visit to Rwanda and, truthfully, my first venture into another African country apart from my native Ghana. However, thanks to thorough pre-trip research and the warm interactions I had with the Rwandan High Commission team in Accra, I felt at ease in this country renowned as the safest destination for solo travelers, particularly women.

Exploring a foreign land solo, the reassuring global ranking for the safety of lone travelers was particularly comforting, especially given the abundance of online horror stories detailing terrifying experiences elsewhere.

Upon arrival, a crowd awaited at the arrivals, holding signs with names or institutional brands for identification. Prominently among them were signs bearing the name “Rwanda Development Board,” the agency responsible for promoting the country’s tourism and business potential.

Despite scanning the area, my name was not on any signage. In a hushed tone, I called out, “Bosco!” and there he was, smiling warmly. He greeted me with a handshake and an unexpected embrace, which, given our prior conversations, added a welcoming touch to my arrival.

Bosco efficiently took charge of my luggage cart, guiding me towards the car destined for Kamau Palace Apartments in Kacyiru. Cruising past the first digitalized traffic light, Bosco chuckled while recounting a recent traffic ticket episode, adding a light-hearted tone to our conversation.

The day before my arrival, a booking glitch at Kigali Gardens Apartment had occurred. Thanks to Bosco’s dedication, extending beyond his role as a driver, he diligently assisted in finding an alternative rental within my budget.

As we navigated the brightly lit and impeccably maintained streets of Kigali, Bosco and I engaged in lively conversation, akin to close friends. Sharing my passion for music and dance, Bosco revealed his own love for dancing. Excitedly, he suggested checking out Fuchsia Bar Lounge that evening, promising a great live band.

Upon arrival at Fuchsia, pulsating polyrhythmic dance music greeted us. The lively atmosphere, combined with the vibrant crowd enjoying the cool Kigali breeze, was a stark contrast to preconceived notions about reserved Rwandans. The band, aptly named “The Cool Band,” delivered captivating rhythms, and I found myself immersed in the lively ambiance, dancing and savoring the moment until well past 2 a.m. My first day in Rwanda concluded with an unforgettable night of music, dance, laughter, and the realization that the country had much more to offer than anticipated.

Kigali captivated me from the start. Grooving to the mesmerizing tunes of the Cool Band on my inaugural night set the perfect tone, especially considering my past as a lead artist in a band many years ago. This initial encounter with Rwanda fueled my excitement to unprecedented levels, marking the beginning of my exploration into the authenticity of the positive tales surrounding the country.

Post-breakfast, Bosco showed up around nine o’clock, kickstarting our day with a visit to the Kigali Genocide Memorial. My preference was to delve into the facts, history, and reasons behind the tragic events of the early 1990s in Rwanda, a topic I had often heard discussed.

All I understood was that these events had disrupted Rwanda’s natural course of life and left deep scars on the nation’s soul. Globally, when you mention Rwanda, people instinctively associate it with genocide, as if the word “Rwanda” is synonymous only with pain, turmoil, and trauma. While not entirely inaccurate, this perception is rooted in the lingering memories I would soon come to grasp.

The Genocide Memorial was bustling with activity on that particular Monday, coinciding with the annual 100 days dedicated to remembering the genocide against the Tutsi. My visit occurred during this solemn period, further immersing me in the poignant history of Rwanda.

Security measures were stringent at the entrance, and a palpable solemnity pervaded the entire complex. The weight of the testimonial video recounting the genocide victims lingered heavily on my heart. Inside the main building, poignant images and narratives depicted the tragic fate of Rwandan families—mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, and friends—brutally slaughtered by their own people. The incomprehensible depth of hatred that led adults to mercilessly kill even innocent children left me shaken. Those children, had they survived, would be in their thirties or forties today. Looking at their smiling faces in the pictures brought tears to my eyes, and my head throbbed with emotion. Craving fresh air, I suggested to Bosco that we leave the building. Although he proposed returning another day, deep down, I knew I wouldn’t.

I couldn’t shake the haunting thoughts of the survivors, who, unlike me, were not merely encountering historical facts but had endured the harrowing 100 days of the genocide, carrying the weight of that history. As we exited, I mumbled a brief, forgotten prayer.

My next destination was the Campaign Against Genocide Museum, situated in Rwanda’s Parliament, which had suffered severe bombing during the genocide despite efforts to preserve the nation’s humanity and spirit.

Guided by an enthusiastic docent, I received a thorough, personal tour, delving into the strategies employed by the Rwandese Patriotic Army, led by President Paul Kagame, to halt the carnage. From the museum’s rooftop, I gained a 360-degree perspective of Kigali and its hills, gaining a deeper understanding of the tragedy suffered by the Rwandan people.

As I absorbed the narrative, I became acutely aware of Rwanda’s deeply scarred soul but also witnessed the people’s determination to rebuild with a new mindset, transcending their gruesome past and defying the

world’s low expectations for a nation with such a history.

Immersing myself in this story and witnessing the land of a thousand hills just three decades after near-total destruction, with the remarkable strides made, filled me with joy. A renewed energy surged within me, and I felt a profound connection to this land and its people that I knew would endure a lifetime.

Rwanda, with few natural advantages in terms of minerals and geography, defied the odds, transforming its ruins into an unmistakable and widespread revival.

For dinner, Bosco recommended Chez Guiness, locally known as Kwa Guiness in Remera. With the privilege of placing our dinner order directly with the chef, our meal of roasted captain fish adorned with a thick, spicy, oniony gravy, served alongside perfectly roasted Irish potatoes and a generous salad, was as delectable as it sounds. Each mouthful was a heavenly delight.

We lingered, engaging in a broad discussion about life in Rwanda before seeking out the chef to express our compliments with a generous tip. His joyful face remains etched in my memory.

Tuesday arrived swiftly. We embarked on a drive around town and the suburbs of Kigali, meandering through Nyarutarama, Gacuriro, and Vision City. I marveled at the pristine neighborhoods and mansions showcasing incredible affluence. Every corner was impeccably clean, even the gutters.

Hedgerows were undergoing trimming, and the streets and sidewalks were being diligently weeded and swept. It caught my attention that the majority of those engaged in street cleaning were mature women. Bosco clarified that this initiative was part of a government program designed to provide meaningful activity and income to widows in need. A commendable program indeed.

Our journey took us through Kicukiro, Kagarama, and Nyamirambo. I even explored a farmer’s market-style store, purchasing oranges, apples, local honey, and three tree tomatoes to sample. In Nyarugenge, we encountered a police checkpoint halting traffic to allow the first family to pass. Continuing on to Gasabo District, we encountered a noticeable contrast with some rough, unpaved roads, yet the cleanliness persisted.

We parked beneath a young, shady tree in a small park, where I tasted one of the tree tomatoes. Its skin and flesh were thicker than a regular tomato, the juice tart, but it retained the familiar tomato taste. Later, we dined at Hotel Chez Lando in Remera. I indulged in the assorted vegetarian platter accompanied by a bowl of thick, chunky mushroom soup. Bosco opted for spicy chicken with rice. Our meals were complemented by ginger black tea and Afrikan tea, becoming our regular choices.

I witnessed firsthand that Rwanda’s commitment to cleanliness is deeply ingrained—a true Rwandan mindset. The meticulous upkeep of the pristine surroundings is a daily practice. Throughout my eight days, I observed no litter, rubbish, or trash in town or the small countryside I explored. Plastic bags have been banished without negotiation, reflecting Rwanda’s serious stance on environmental cleanliness.

Rwanda’s warm and breezy climate, coupled with its thousand hills, offered breathtaking views whether traveling on foot, by bike, moto taxi, car, or bus. I savored the beauty, peace, love, respect, and security of the nation. It became evident that Rwanda is a no-nonsense country, with a visible and vigilant police presence—no room for troublemakers.

While penning down these words, I reflected on the recent delightful experiences of great music, dancing, and delicious food. Gratitude filled me as I extended thanks to the Universe and my ancestors. A helpful hint for you: be prepared to exercise patience for your food to arrive; however, in my case, the wait was consistently justified.

Wednesday morning arrived, and Bosco, our driver, picked us up for my scheduled meeting with Dr. Kennesha and her family in Kibagabaga. Dr. Kennesha, a gracious lady who responded to my request on a platform, turned out to be a true blessing. She recommended Bosco and shared his contact details, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Dr. Kennesha, along with her mother and grandson, constitutes a warm, resilient, and affectionate family with a truly unique story. They have chosen Rwanda as their home base, citing reasons such as the pristine environment, peaceful surroundings, well-maintained roads, and overall tranquility. During our five-hour visit, we exchanged numerous stories, and I even engaged in a game of ball on the terrace with Kayden before returning to Kacyiru.

Thursday saw us at the Rwanda Development Board, a comprehensive resource for business information. I received valuable advice, learned about land and house prices, and was genuinely encouraged to consider returning to Rwanda for visits, business endeavors, or even to establish a more permanent presence. We discovered an insightful book on Rwanda at a nearby bookstore and embarked on a quest for Rwandan maps. The day concluded with a return to Kwa Guiness for another round of their exceptional roasted captain fish, roasted Irish potatoes, and refreshing crisp salad. Once again, the chef at Kwa Guiness surpassed expectations. I wholeheartedly recommend this establishment wherever they are located in Rwanda, each time.

We had the desire to dance off our satisfied stomachs, so Bosco contacted a friend, and we explored various clubs before settling in a bustling nightclub filled with energetic young revelers. However, the DJ’s playlist consisted of brief snippets of songs, constantly changing. Being more inclined to old-school preferences, I struggled to enjoy the short bursts of music. Despite my efforts, it felt like hard work. Bosco and his friend mostly stood back, sipping drinks and observing the passing crowd of girls. Our nightclub adventure lasted just about an hour.

Friday morning, we engaged in souvenir shopping in the heart of Kigali City. Resembling a scaled-down version of any downtown area, the city featured tall buildings, parking lots, moto taxis, tourists, vendors, shoppers, and bustling forex bureaus. Venturing into a towering structure, we reached the second floor to find a souvenir shop overflowing with merchandise. Souvenirs were crammed into every available space, from the ceiling to the tops and sides of tables, showcasing a delightful array of items. Amidst the vendors vying for my attention, I selected items like T-shirts, keyholders, and fabric bags adorned with Rwandan designs. We also stumbled upon Rwanda maps, and Bosco purchased a small book for me that translated Kinyarwanda to Swahili, French, and English. My newfound favorite words were “Murakoze” and “Amakuru” – expressions of gratitude and inquiries about well-being. On our way back, we indulged in delicious samosas.

Returning to Fuschia on Friday evening, we found the dance floor packed, with the Cool Band infusing the venue with their unique musical charm. It was an extraordinary evening, and I danced until my spirit was completely satisfied. Upon returning to my room, I realized my luggage keys were missing. Rather than fretting, I decided to cut the locks if the keys couldn’t be found, considering whether I might have dropped them in town, at Fuschia, or in the car. Saturday morning brought us back to the city for additional souvenir shopping. I obtained more Rwandan francs, the local currency, and we revisited Fuschia in hopes of finding my elusive luggage keys, but they were nowhere to be found.

Feeling restless, I grew anxious, and despite Bosco’s attempts to soothe my worries, his efforts only aggravated me. Urging him to drive to a hardware store, we acquired a hacksaw and new locks before returning to my room. Bosco, proving his usefulness, patiently sawed off the TSA lock from my large suitcase. Ecstatic, I exclaimed upon finding my luggage keys in a sheer pink pouch atop my carry-on bag. Bosco, after uttering something in Kinyarwanda, burst into laughter. Putting down the hacksaw, he washed his hands, bid me goodnight, and departed.

The following morning, we embarked on our journey through Kabuga toward Rwanda’s Eastern Province, passing scenic landscapes of sugarcane farms, lakes, and hillside houses. Coaches raced by, ferrying passengers to Tanzania, just three hours away by road.

An hour later, we reached Umusambi Village, veering off the main road into a tranquil area. At the entrance gate to the Umusambi Village wetland reserve, we signed in and cleansed our sandals. A prominent sign displayed Umusambi Village and Murakaza Neza, featuring a Grey Crowned Crane. A young attendant provided an orientation about the wetland, guiding us to various trails like Umusambi Trail and Crane Island Walk. She suggested capturing pictures of the trail maps for our convenience.

Intrigued by the symphony of bird songs, I explored the area with Bosco. Signs featuring twelve different birds adorned a section, offering insight into the diverse birdlife. The conservation ethos of Rwanda became apparent, showcasing the country’s commitment to nature and the environment. Rwanda’s acclaim extended to its thriving population of silverback mountain gorillas, a species once on the brink of extinction.

Returning along the trail, I discovered Bosco peacefully asleep on a bench in a small bamboo forest picnic area. Leaving him behind, I observed grey crowned cranes tending to their young. Umusambi Village stood as a haven for injured cranes and wildlife, providing rehabilitation and protection in a natural habitat conducive to their thriving. The sanctuary embodied Rwanda’s dedication to conservation, a commitment underscored by events like the Kwita Izina Festival, drawing global attention to the nation’s natural wonders. Rwanda had indeed become a significant force in various aspects.

After a brief search, I discovered Bosco peacefully asleep in the car with its side doors wide open to catch a breeze. Upon waking him, we began our journey back. During a stop to buy water, Bosco disappeared briefly, likely taking a moment to stretch.

While seated, opening my water, two tall and slender men in vibrant orange and red clothing walked gracefully past the car. Their well-oiled, shiny black skin exuded grace and beauty in synchronized steps. I immediately recognized them as Masai people. Although I wanted to meet them and capture the moment, they vanished from sight, leaving me in awe. Bosco confirmed that Masai from neighboring Tanzania often cross the border for trade, likely explaining their presence.

In town, Bosco reluctantly paid two traffic tickets, dropped me off, and headed home. Craving different food, I followed Oreste’s suggestion for a nearby place. Unimpressed with the options, I settled for a specially prepared veggie salad, while Oreste enjoyed a house fried chicken meal.

Later, Bosco proposed a final visit to enjoy the Cool Band at Fuschia. Despite my early flight, I couldn’t resist and danced until the early hours. After packing, Oreste collected my suitcases at 4:55 am. Bosco arrived just as I was about to call another taxi. I paid the driver, and on our way to the airport, there was little conversation. Bosco and I exchanged apologies and explanations, hugged, and promised to stay in touch.

Upon my return, I called Bosco, and we discussed our friendship and agreed on a different approach for my next visit. We remain friends, talking occasionally. Reflecting on my first visit to Rwanda, I admire the care and compassion demonstrated by the Rwandan government in developing the country despite challenges.

Rwanda’s achievements in both land and people impress me, and I appreciate their commitment to women’s importance in government. The beauty, peace, love, and security in Rwanda make me love the country even more. The government’s dedication to reclaiming Rwanda for Rwandans instills confidence for the entire continent.

As I ponder this concept, I believe that if emulated, it could lead to a developed sub-Saharan Africa, allowing Africans to stay proudly in their home countries. Visiting Rwanda renewed my spirit and strengthened my commitment to contributing to Africa’s rebirth and excellence.

The experience convinced me that a stronger sub-Saharan Africa can reach its fullest potential for current and future generations. I am prouder to be African because of Rwanda, and I believe the country’s great achievements deserve more publicity.

Already preparing for a return visit, I am excited about contributing meaningfully to Africa’s story of rebirth and excellence. Murakoze! Asante Sana!