The beginning of April brings with it a strong spirit into commemorating the events happened 19 years ago. I will not debate the situation, but I want to talk about the cultural aspect of the commemoration ceremonies of Rwanda`s solidarism. This time is the time to remember that we are human, and there is no rage nor hate that can do else but harm. This time is the time to remember that we are equal to each other and is no race nor color that when being differentiated can do well in human relationships. This time is the time when we think about our families that at one moment or another have suffered and have given to us their love and care. After 2pm the time freezes. Is visiting time, spending time with friends, with siblings, reflecting on the past and the present, talking about all, about being alive.
Is is impressing how much pain a smile can heal, it is impressing how much honesty a tear can catch and how much emotion a scream can trigger. A candle light, a silent step, a song, a cloud.
The city is mute. The city is cold, even though are 30 degrees outside.
There is a special type of poetry in today`s moment, a poetry that embraces a feeling of losing control for a second, a poetry that enables a different appearance of the landscape. An empty one. In this time is the time when I discover that Kigali is nothing without its people. No movement, no word, no color.
After 5pm the surroundings come lively again. A sea of noise, of people moving around, a sea of curious eyes, of low toned voices, a sea of color and dynamics. This is the city I know: has light, has adventure, has surprises and a bit of a charming mess.