I never truly grasped the meaning of ‘Inganzo’ until I went to the Kayirebwa concert last night: ‘Inganzo ya Kayirebwa’. In her youthful appearance, she entertained us to a night full of emotions, sensations and strong memories.
She transported us way back, at the time of our childhood, our youth, and our struggle to liberate our country.
As she started on the mythical ‘Umunezero’, I re-lived the opening of ‘Radio Muhabura’, announcing the latest strides of the Rwandese Patriotic Army, liberating a town, a hill, saving lives on their path…
I was a child once more, that child in the streets of exile, yearning for a place to call home, yearning for dignity, for identity, but being comforted by her music, prophesying our approaching return to motherland…
I was that child, among many, being introduced for the first time, to the ideals of the Rwandese Patriotic Front through songs of Cecile. She had the talent of rendering the RPF so palatable, so attractive to all of us…
As she launched ‘none twaza mwajyahe, ko twaza twambaye?’ (where will you hide when we come for you? For we’ll come in our armor) – I was a child in October 1994, returning to Rwanda and meeting the victorious ‘inkotanyis’ in their dashing ‘rice-stripped uniforms’…
It was engaging, it was moving. As always, she sang with such incredible love and grace that transcended language barriers and moved even those who did not understand Kinyarwanda. It was a unifying night; all in the room, Rwandans and foreigners alike vibrated on the same tune; we were one big human family unified by our love for Rwanda.
She sang and let others sing.
She enjoyed listening to the breed of young talents, set out to impress her.
Like Atome ‘Gasumuni’, who MCied the whole night.
Or young Mireille Mukakigeli, who performed ‘Inyange’ and made us all dream…
And others too, who still had room to improve…
But she congratulated them all; she was gracious that way…
From our corner, my friends and I saw someone we used to consider a daughter of Rwanda, a comrade in the struggle, taking another dimension; that of a mother; the Mother of Rwandan culture.
Her music took an erotic turn when she lunched ‘Marebe atemba amaribori’’. All in the room held their breath, as she described Rwandan sensuality in such an intense and yet so pure fashion.
We danced, we sung, we vibrated, but most importantly, we remembered the glorious days…
Listening to her made me feel so proud that it gave me Goosebumps; It reminded me of what my people were capable of, it renewed my hope in the Rwandan spirit.
As she winded up, she left us lusting for more, as usual, but that’s what makes her grandeur. Good things have an end – or as she would say it: ‘akeza ntigahora mwitama’…
My only regret is that history has made it so, that my friends and I did not at times, grasp the depth of her poetry; but she’s still around to teach us, luckily
Thank you for a wonderful evening, Mama Cecile, nahubutaha, wongeye gukora munganzo…
Posted 31st March
