Author: admin

Speaking during a conversation with the media on Friday as Rwanda marked the 31st anniversary of Liberation Day, Kagame reflected on how his perspective has evolved with age.

In response to a question from a journalist asking what he would do, where he would go, and what he would hope to learn if he could live one day as an ordinary citizen, the president dove into personal memories.

'Many things,' Kagame began. 'If it was long ago and I was still young, I would go skydiving, I would go bungee jumping — I would do some of these crazy things.'

He revealed that such adrenaline-filled activities were not foreign to him in his earlier years. 'I used to do some of them when I was still young,' he noted.

Kagame also hinted at a deep yearning for unstructured fun. 'I wouldn’t drink, but I would have as much fun as you know falls in the normal brackets of fun, almost without limit,' he said.

'I wish I could be younger. I would do some of the things I missed doing in those days — just being there, free, fearless, and enjoying what nature provides.'

President Kagame has shared how he would spend a day as an ordinary citizen.

Théophile Niyitegeka

But amid the commemorations, one dimension often goes unspoken, even if its absence is deeply felt: the liberation from weaponized music—songs crafted to indoctrinate, dehumanize, and divide. It was not just territory that had to be reclaimed or lives that had to be saved; Rwanda had to be rescued from the poisonous rhythms that danced on airwaves and echoed in schoolyards, churches, and bars.

That is why December 31, 2001, is a day of immense historical and symbolic importance. On that day, Rwanda formally retired its old national symbols: the flag, the coat of arms, and the anthem Rwanda Rwacu. It was the last day of hypocrisy, of officialized hatred dressed as patriotism.

The very next day, January 1, 2002, marked not just the beginning of a calendar year but the birth of a new Rwanda. Not just a new year but a new era. A new flag of hope and reconciliation. A new coat of arms that emphasized unity and development. And most importantly, a new national anthem—Rwanda Nziza (Beautiful Rwanda).

Gone were the lines glorifying militants. Gone were the subtle divisions, the coded supremacism. The new anthem sang of togetherness, peace, and truth—not as an oxymoron, but as a mission.

It was a cleansing. A renunciation. Rwanda did not just silence the guns of 1994; it dismantled the ideological machine that fired them.

From the very beginning of Rwanda’s so-called independence in 1962, a fake sovereignty manufactured by Belgium through manipulated elections and violent purges, a political ideology steeped in Hutu supremacy was not only installed but carefully choreographed to seem legitimate.

Unlike other African nations that achieved independence through gradual institutional reform or clear nationalist leadership, Rwanda’s 'republic' was declared while still under Belgian colonial control.

Take Tanganyika, now mainland Tanzania for instance: it gained independence on December 9, 1961 and became a Republic only a year later, in 1962, after an internal constitutional process.

Rwanda, by contrast, was declared a Republic on September 25, 1961—before even attaining independence on July 1, 1962. How does a colony become a Republic before it becomes a nation? The answer lies in colonial manipulation.

This engineered 'Republic' was the result of Belgium’s strategy to install a compliant ethnic-majority regime, under the guise of democratic choice. Belgium’s colonial officials, led by Colonel Guy Logiest, organized sham communal elections and a referendum on the monarchy in 1961.

The political objective of the Kingdom of Belgium was clear: destroy the Rwandan monarchy and hand over state power to the manufactured 'Hutu majority'—particularly to Kayibanda’s Parti du Mouvement de l’Emancipation Hutu (PARMEHUTU), which had formed in 1959 and was openly anti-Tutsi. For a moment—just imagine, a Republic created by a Kingdom!

It is no coincidence that this political shift was not simply documented in decrees or law books—it was sung. Music became the ideological glue of the new regime. PARMEHUTU understood that to entrench their version of truth, they had to do more than govern. They had to sing.

PARMEHUTU, the ruling party under President Grégoire Kayibanda, mastered a powerful tool of mass indoctrination: music. That is how Hutu Power began—not just in pamphlets or speeches, but in lyrics, melodies, and choruses.

In fact, the most effective medium to penetrate the minds of the uneducated and even indoctrinate the literate was music. Songs could go where ideologues could not. They seduced the soul, bypassed critical thought, and embedded genocidal ideologies in memory like lullabies.

They had to make hate harmonious in music. And so they did, through a musical troupe called Abanyuramatwi, literally 'those who soothe the ears.' But rather than comforting, these voices were devious. They disguised hate in the rhythms of patriotism.

Abanyuramatwi

The soothing voices of hatred or the Abanyuramatwi ensemble, under the leadership of Michel Habarurema—was not just a cultural arm; it was a psychological weapon. Their songs provided the sound effects to the PARMEHUTU regime’s methodical and schematized rewriting of Rwanda’s history and social hierarchy.

They composed songs that were deceptively lovely, melodically pleasing, and easy to memorize—but within them, genocidal ideology was laced like poison in honey. The music normalized division, glorified discrimination, and romanticized ethnic violence. These songs aired on Radio Rwanda and were played in schools, churches, and at national celebrations. They were part of everyday life, and thus, indoctrination was not occasional—it was constant.

Among these songs, three stand out for their sheer toxicity: Rwanda Rwacu (Our Rwanda), Turatsinze (Victory is Ours), and Jya Mbere Rwanda (Go Forward Rwanda). These songs provide a window into how Hutu Power ideology was constructed, disseminated, and sanctified.

Rwanda Rwacu or Our Rwanda was not composed but crafted to praising PARMEHUTU militants and preaching hypocrisy. This was the Rwanda’s national anthem from 1962 until December 31, 2001. At face value, it appears patriotic.

But dissecting its lyrics tells how it weaponized words like Republic, Democracy, and Feudalism to mislead people and divide them. These terms were not used in their conventional meanings; they were redefined to serve a political agenda.

The most disturbing stanza is the first: 'I praise the Militants / Who established an unshakable Republic.'

In Kinyarwanda, 'Nsingiza abarwanashyaka bazanye Repubulika idahinyuka.' The word nsingiza is not neutral. It’s the same word used in religious songs to glorify God. Here, it glorifies political militants—many of whom had blood on their hands.

These militants were not freedom fighters; they were architects of ethnic cleansing. They led pogroms against Tutsis in 1959, 1961, 1963, and 1973. Yet the anthem elevated them as near-divine heroes. This was the anthem that schoolchildren were required to sing, effectively internalizing the glorification of killers as national martyrs.

The second stanza reads: 'The Republic has uprooted Feudalism / Colonialism has disappeared for good / Be strengthened, O Democracy.’

But what do Feudalism and Democracy mean here? In the PARMEHUTU regime’s lexicon, Feudalism became a code word for Tutsi. It did not refer to a socio-economic structure, but to a racialized enemy.

Republic meant the destruction of the Tutsi leadership class. Democracy didn’t imply pluralism or human rights—it was shorthand for ethnic majoritarianism. One ethnic group, the Hutu, ruled. Others were excluded or eliminated. Thus, 'Democracy' became the dictatorship of one ethnic identity.

The anthem’s third stanza pretends inclusivity: 'We all fought to gain it—Tutsis, Twas, and Hutus / And you, naturalized Rwandans.’

But this was nothing but plain propaganda. Tutsis were fleeing for their lives during this so-called struggle. The 'we' here is political fiction. By suggesting that Tutsis fought for the Republic, the regime exonerated itself and gaslit its victims.

Turatsinze Ga ye!

In this song, Abanyuramatwi and PARMEHUTU sang victory by ethnicity and not by nationhood.

This song, 'Victory is Ours,' was written to celebrate the rigged 1961 referendum and communal elections. The chorus: 'Victory is finally ours! / The referendum… has been won by PARMEHUTU!’

This triumphalist tone is not national at all. It is tribal. The real essence of the song and the venom is concentrated in the second stanza: 'Gahutu, wherever you are, rejoice / The debates are over / Rwanda returns to its rightful owners/ Gahutu, triumph without dispute!’

This is not politics. This is ethnic supremacism. The term “Gahutu” is invoked like a war cry. The reference to “debates are over” is a declaration that political pluralism is dead. The country has been conquered, and all who oppose this narrative are enemies.

The message is crystal clear: Rwanda belongs to the Hutu. The song frames the Tutsi as usurpers, foreign elements who had taken something not theirs. It was a call to all Hutus to unite in reclaiming what they believed was stolen.

Then comes the veneration of Kayibanda in the final stanza: 'Gahutu, wherever you are, bask in well-being/ Kayibanda, whom we elected, has just freed us from the worst servitude/That was consuming Rwanda!’

The 'servitude' here is not Belgian colonialism; it’s code for the period when the Tutsi monarchy existed. Colonialism is used as a veil. In truth, the enemy is the Tutsi. The rewriting of history is shameless. By framing the Tutsi as co-colonizers, the song justifies their exclusion and eventual extermination.

A March to Madness

The third song, Jya Mbere Rwanda (Go Forward Rwanda), is a masterpiece of euphemism. Its first stanza introduces the term Interahamwe as a badge of unity:

Go Forward, Rwanda / You are supported by men who are Interahamwe, members of PARMEHUTU.

At first glance, INTERAHAMWE simply means “those who are united toward one goal.” But we now know what that goal became: extermination. In 1992, this very term would be resurrected by the MRND regime as the name of the genocidal militia that hunted down and slaughtered Tutsis. But even in the 1960s, the term carried an undertone of militancy and exclusion.

The second and third stanzas are diabolically cunning:

'What was Rwanda like? / The White man and the Tutsi had swallowed it up / By sidelining the Gahutu who was the true owner.’

'The White man spoke and the Tutsi agreed / The latter only wanted one thing: to survive until tomorrow.

Here, the colonialist and the Tutsi are made synonymous. This historical lie is repeated like doctrine. In fact, many colonialists saw the Tutsi elite as a means to their own ends, and later turned against them in favor of populist Hutu nationalism. But by fusing the Tutsi and the colonizer, the song casts them both as the oppressors. This narrative provided the moral justification for ethnically-targeted violence.

The fourth and fifth stanzas venerate Kayibanda and the so-called Hutu revolutionaries:

'Gahutu prevailed, democracy spread / Let us all applaud Kayibanda and his companions.’

This was not democracy. This was majoritarianism enforced by expulsion, intimidation, and mass killings. From 1959 to 1973, hundreds of thousands of Tutsis fled to neighboring countries. Those who remained lived as second-class citizens.

The sixth stanza adds a hypocritical flourish: 'What is Rwanda like now? / Every Rwandan is free / And every foreigner feels welcome.’

The regime had already rendered Tutsi refugees stateless. And yet, this song dares to claim that foreigners are welcome. It is a sadistic lie.

The final stanza mocks the dispossessed: 'If only we could bring back one of those enemy-refugees-of-Rwanda / To see Gatutsi, Gatwa, and Gahutu sitting together / He would have nothing left to say / Except to gnash his teeth.’

This is not a reconciliation tune. It is a cruel taunt. It tells refugees: you are irrelevant. What you think is your Rwanda, has moved on without you.

How Songs Entered the Mind

Music, in this context, was not entertainment. It was propaganda. It reached people where newspapers could not. It made hatred melodic, memorable, and digestible. Songs like these were repeated in schools, at public functions, on national radio. They were installed into memory like catechisms. They made genocidal ideology singable.

These songs were not just played—they were learned, recited, internalized. Children sang them in school assemblies. Church choirs unknowingly harmonized the ideology. Refugees born in exile picked up the tunes from Radio Rwanda without knowing their deeper meaning.

When children of Tutsi exiles began humming these songs, their parents would scold them—not out of cultural contempt, but from traumatic recognition. They knew what those lyrics really meant. As these children grew older in exile, they came to understand the duplicity: that a song called “Our Rwanda” was actually a hymn of division—praising criminals. That, a song called “Go Forward Rwanda” was a marching order to segregation, and that a chorus of “Victory is ours” was the anthem of ethnic cleansing.

These songs were serenades of ethnic superiority. They taught a child that the Gahutu was the rightful owner of Rwanda, and that the Tutsi was a foreign usurper. The Interahamwe weren’t a militia yet, but already they were being praised as Rwanda’s future.

The indoctrination was complete. A generation was raised not with open hatred, but with euphemisms set to melody. This is what made the ideology enduring and effective. You can censor a book. You can imprison a journalist. But how do you silence a song already memorized by an entire population?

When Songs Became Sermons of Hatred

One of the most spiritually perverse aspects of Rwanda’s musical indoctrination under Hutu Power was the misuse of theological language and symbolism. In the anthem Rwanda Rwacu, the line 'I praise the Militants who established an unshakable Republic' uses the Kinyarwanda verb gusingiza—a term deeply rooted in religious tradition and reverence.

It is the same word one would use in praising God: Gusingiza Imana. This is not casual vocabulary. In Christian liturgy, it connotes sacred adoration. To direct this sacred language toward political militants is not merely inappropriate—it is sacrilegious.

In Rwandan culture, gusingiza is used in moments of exceptional honor. Traditionally, it was reserved for people who had performed an extraordinary deed benefiting society—heroes, benefactors, or sages. The one who is 'gusingizwa’ is not just acknowledged—they are exalted.

In Christian liturgy, especially among Catholics, gusingiza reaches its loftiest height in hymns like the Mary’s Magnificat, with a refrain: 'Let us praise the Lord, for He has done great things.’ Christians also believe angels and saints team up in heaven to praise God. To hear gusingiza is to hear a sacred chorus. It is a word that belongs in temples, not tribunals.

And yet, in the national anthem, this sacred verb was hijacked to glorify 'militants'—the very people who laid the foundations for exclusion, persecution, and mass violence. The anthem did not merely acknowledge them—it elevated them, making them the moral equivalents of saints or even Vicars of God. It was not enough for these architects of hatred to be feared or obeyed; they had to be venerated.

What makes this more damning is that nearly every organized religion in Rwanda—Catholic, Protestant, even certain Pentecostal sects—participated in this chorus of false sanctification. The militants of PARMEHUTU, far from being condemned from the pulpit, were honored in a national anthem sung in schools, churches, and national feasts.

In effect, they received the kind of collective liturgical glorification once reserved for martyrs or apostles. They were canonized by nationalism and baptized in the refrain of genocide.

This blasphemous equivalence essentially elevated genocidal architects into saints. The militant class that organized massacres and institutionalized ethnic discrimination were not just thanked—they were glorified, even canonized.

The song created a moral inversion: virtue became vice, and vice became virtue. Praising those who tore the country apart was not just accepted; it was ritualized through repetition. This mirrors what theologians might call the 'diabolical liturgy'—where acts of evil are draped in the robes of righteousness.

The result was a nation spiritually anesthetized to evil. Where chants of division were harmonized like hymns, and the sacred became subverted into the service of segregation.

Historical Parallels

Rwanda’s use of music as a propaganda tool is not unique. Across history, totalitarian regimes and racist ideologies have used music to entrench control, dehumanize opponents, and normalize violence.

In Nazi Germany: The Third Reich commissioned songs like 'Die Fahne Hoch' (Raise the Flag), known as the Horst-Wessel-Lied, which became a Nazi anthem. Like Rwanda Rwacu, it changed political loyalty into spiritual destiny. Hitler Youth were taught patriotic songs that glorified Aryan supremacy and the Führer. Music was used in schools, rallies, and broadcasts to condition minds.

In the American Confederacy, songs like 'Dixie' sentimentalized the Southern slaveholding way of life, wiping away the inhumaneness of slavery behind joyful melodies. After the Civil War, Lost Cause ideology found its way into hymns and folk songs that subtly defended white supremacy.

During Apartheid South Africa—Afrikaner nationalist songs, often sung in Afrikaans, extolled the virtues of Boer ancestry and the 'Divine right’ to rule. These songs reinforced apartheid ideology under the guise of cultural preservation.

Serbia in the 1990s: Turbo-folk music, heavily promoted by Slobodan Milošević’s regime, glorified Serbian nationalism and often contained veiled (or open) threats against Bosniaks, Croats, and Albanians. Music videos featured paramilitary imagery and echoed genocidal slogans.

In each of these cases, music allowed ideology to bypass rational scrutiny. It made hate feel like heritage. Rwanda’s case, however, is arguably more insidious because the entire foundation of the first republic was narrated through song. Unlike other regimes where propaganda was a side project, in Rwanda music was the main sermon.

*Rwanda Nziza as Musical Liberation*

The shift from Rwanda Rwacu to Rwanda Nziza was not just a change in lyrics—it was a political, moral and psychological exorcism.

The new anthem opens with: 'Rwanda our beautiful and dear country / Adorned of hills, lakes and volcanoes / Motherland would be always filled of happiness / Us all your children: Rwandans / Let us sing your glory and proclaim your high achievements.’

There is no mention of ethnicity, no glorification of felonious militants, no triumph of one group over another. Instead, the land itself—its beauty, its serenity—is the unifying image. Where Rwanda Rwacu sang of Republics 'won' through exclusion, Rwanda Nziza sings of unity 'born' through reconciliation.

Later lines emphasize: 'You overcame the hardships / That weighed heavily on you / And brought us peace again.’

This is a glaring contrast. The old anthem demanded praise for those who created divisions, discrimination, persecution and genocide. The new anthem acknowledges pain, loss, and hardship—and then offers healing. It does not pretend peace was always there. It recognizes that it had to be rebuilt.

The final stanza of Rwanda Nziza invokes future generations: 'Our valorous ancestors / Gave themselves bodies and souls / As far-sighted as they were / For you to become a good heritage / Even we your children / We commit ourselves to valuing your immense legacy.’

Here, valorous ancestors—is not a euphemism for militants or a specific ethnicity. It is an inclusive term. It opens the narrative to everyone who fought for justice, dignity, and unity. The new anthem dignifies rather than deifies. It invites reflection rather than ritualism.

End of the Songs of Supremacism

Music in Rwanda was once a tool of indoctrination, a delivery system for division. The state-sponsored songs of the first and second republics used rhythm to reinforce racism, and melody to make murder seem noble.

But Rwanda changed the channel. When the country adopted Rwanda Nziza on January 1, 2002, it wasn’t just the end of a song—it was the end of an era. The soundtrack of supremacy was silenced. And in its place came a song of sincerity.

Today, Rwandan youth must continue to carry that melody forward—not with blind repetition, but with conscious reflection. They must remember that music, like language, can bless or curse, build or destroy.

And may they never forget: the day the music died in Rwanda, was the day a new nation with a different mentality was reborn.

Yet, we must not simply say the music changed. We must say: the ritual of hate was disrupted. The saints of supremacy were dethroned from their musical altars. The choirs of nationalist praise were disbanded. No longer would mass be followed by melody that sanctified murderers. No longer would the nation’s children rise in classrooms to praise men who had weaponized ethnicity.

It is a profound irony—no, a scandal—that for nearly four decades, Rwanda’s most sacred national ritual was the musical canonization of political criminals. For thirty-nine years, Rwandans sang not to uplift their better angels but to serenade their worst demons. If that is not spiritual perjury, what is?

Let it be said: when Rwanda adopted Rwanda Nziza, it did not merely swap verses. It exorcised a demon.

And to those who look back at the 'glory days' of the first Republic with nostalgia, humming those old tunes in private, we must ask: Is it really patriotism you’re singing? Or is it just hatred in harmony?

Because if your best memories are musical odes to oppression, perhaps silence is your greatest contribution to peace.

To the young generation of Rwanda: be vigilant. Propaganda no longer needs cassette tapes. It can live in YouTube videos, in nostalgic songs, in rewritten TikTok skits, in romanticized tributes to the past.

Ask always: What are you singing? Who wrote it? What history does it serve? Never again should a song be a weapon. Never again should melody mask murder. Your voices are Rwanda’s future—let them be voices of light.

And when you sing, sing not of division but of unity and dignity. Not of conquest, but of compassion.

So yes, Rwanda was liberated from the killers. But equally important, it was liberated from their soundtrack. And for that, let us raise not a song of praise—but a silence of truth.

Let that silence be permanent. Let our voices, and our music, only ever again soothe the ears—and the heart.

A monument at the entrance of Rwanda’s parliament depicting the bravery of RPA soldiers during the liberation war.

Tom Ndahiro

In response to a question about recent rumors concerning his health, President Kagame questioned the logic behind the public scrutiny of personal health matters, stating firmly that illness is a natural part of the human condition.

“How do people want to account for someone’s personal health? Is there an exception in this world?” Kagame asked rhetorically. “There’s nobody who lives forever. Whether life is short or long, you have to manage all these issues as human beings.”

The president acknowledged the physical toll of leadership, noting that even his own health challenges may be linked to the pressures of governance.

'Some of my personal health problems might originate from managing you people, the amount of stress,' he said.

He dismissed the notion that leaders are immune to common illnesses or human fragility, saying, 'People get COVID, the flu, a cold, or just collapse because of a heart issue. Isn’t that human? What do people want me to account for — that I’m not human?'

Kagame also criticized what he described as malicious political rhetoric that capitalizes on or even celebrates health concerns of public figures.

He called such attitudes 'beyond stupidity,' adding, 'You can rejoice even when they’re carrying somebody in a coffin, going for burial. You can have that moment of rejoicing and say, we got rid of him, and so on. And by the time he gets into his car, one kilometer, he has followed the other one. I don’t understand the logic, the politics or anything at all'

Kagame urged for more rational public discourse, saying such narratives are not only senseless but also run counter to the values Rwanda has worked hard to uphold since its liberation.

'This is the kind of politics we liberated ourselves from,' he said. 'At least, you asked the question. Rest assured, it is me sitting here with you.'

The Liberation Day commemoration honors the end of the 1994 Genocide against the Tutsi and the beginning of Rwanda’s rebirth under new leadership.

President Paul Kagame has pushed back against speculation surrounding his health, calling out what he described as senseless and politically motivated rumors.

Théophile Niyitegeka

“We reached an agreement in Washington, D.C., but it is not up to Washington to implement it. It’s those who reached the agreement who must actually implement what we agreed,” President Kagame stated during a conversation with the media on Rwanda’s Liberation Day on Friday, July 4.

Expressing his optimism about the deal succeeding, he explained that resolving such complex issues requires Cooperation and flexibility.

“You don’t get 100% of what you want because there are many parties concerned with the problem. Each one may get a piece of what they wanted, another gets a piece of what they wanted, and together, stability comes out of it. So, for me, I think there is a chance that we may get somewhere with that,” the president noted.

The Washington-mediated agreement was signed on June 27 to address tensions in eastern DRC. It focuses on joint security measures to neutralise the FDLR militia, which Rwanda has identified as a persistent threat along its border.

During the interview, the head of state affirmed Rwanda’s commitment to its end of the bargain and insisted that the DRC do the same by eliminating the threat along the border with Rwanda.

'If FDLR is not removed, the problem continues to be there, and Rwanda will always do what it has to do,' Kagame warned.

“You will never find Rwanda at fault when it comes to implementing what we have agreed to do. Never,' he added.

President Kagame highlighted that the deal with President Felix Tshisekedi’s administration rests on three interconnected pillars: political, economic, and security, stressing that focusing solely on one aspect, such as the region’s mineral wealth, oversimplifies the conflict.

He criticised past approaches that reduced the crisis to economic motives, noting, 'They talk about minerals as the centre of the whole problem. They should also blame themselves.'

He argued that the Trump administration’s holistic approach, unlike previous efforts, acknowledges the complexity of the conflict, including political issues like the denial of citizenship to Kinyarwanda-speaking Congolese and the internal dynamics within the DRC.

The president also pointed to a parallel Qatar-mediated process involving the DRC government and the M23 rebel group, describing it as addressing the 'internal matters' of Congo, which he said are often wrongly framed as solely a Rwanda-DRC issue.

'Congo has always tried to make this problem only a problem between Rwanda and DRC, but there is a bigger component that is DRC’s problem,' Kagame said, citing the need to resolve issues like the marginalisation of Kinyarwanda-speaking communities within Congo.

Kagame expressed gratitude to the Trump administration for prioritising the region’s challenges, contrasting their engagement with the indifference of previous Western powers.

'I thank them that they even paid attention to the problem at all,' he said, noting that global focus often centres on conflicts in the Middle East or Ukraine.

Addressing criticisms that the Trump administration’s approach is exploitative, Kagame challenged detractors to reflect on their own inaction.

'You were here all these years, doing nothing except doing the wrong thing,' he said, questioning the effectiveness of past sanctions and UN missions in Congo, which he accused of perpetuating biased narratives.

He specifically criticised the UN’s Group of Experts for focusing blame on Rwanda and M23 while ignoring the FDLR’s role in spreading 'genocide ideology' and destabilising the region.

'You will never find them writing anything comprehensively about FDLR. You’ll never find them writing anything comprehensively about how government institutions are connected with FDLR in spreading hate ideology, genocide ideology—things that are being done in broad daylight for everybody to see,' Kagame said. 'So you wonder, how can experts not see that?'

President Kagame was also adamant about his stance on Rwanda’s broader journey toward self-reliance.

'We don’t owe our living to anyone,' he declared, emphasising that Rwanda’s progress over the last three decades reflects a commitment to never again be 'sheep to be slaughtered.'

President Paul Kagame said that the success of the latest peace deal between Rwanda and the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) depends not on external guarantees but on the commitment of both countries to implement the agreed terms honestly and in good faith.

Wycliffe Nyamasege

Responding to a journalist’s question about the implications of the recently signed agreement if the Democratic Forces for the Liberation of Rwanda (FDLR) are not eliminated, Kagame delivered a firm message: 'Rwanda will always do what it has to do when FDLR is along our border. There is no magic word here to be used by anybody.'

The agreement in question, reached in Washington, D.C., was signed between Rwanda and the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) on June 27, with the aim of addressing long-standing security concerns in the region.

A central provision of this deal is the elimination of the FDLR, a rebel group that has repeatedly launched attacks on Rwanda from Congolese territory and is known to have collaborated with the DRC government, particularly during its operations against the M23 rebel group.

President Kagame stressed that while the agreement was signed in Washington, its successful implementation lies solely in the hands of the two parties involved.

'We reached an agreement in Washington, D.C. But it is not up to Washington to implement it. It’s those who reached the agreement to actually implement what they agreed.'

He went on to express Rwanda’s commitment to fulfilling its part of the deal: 'You will never find Rwanda at fault with implementing what we have agreed to do. You will never.'

However, he issued a clear warning that if the other party acts dishonestly or fails to uphold their commitments, Rwanda will respond accordingly: 'But if we decide we are working with plays tricks and takes us back to the problem, then we deal with the problem like we have been dealing with it. There are no two ways about it.'

The President also placed the Rwanda-DRC conflict within a broader regional and internal political context.

He highlighted that in addition to the Washington deal, a parallel negotiation process is underway in Qatar, focusing on the DRC’s internal conflict involving the M23 and issues related to political representation and citizenship.

'There is another deal ongoing that concerns internal groups of Congo. AFC/M23 and the government… that is being discussed and brokered by Qatar.' Kagame noted, recalling his meeting with President Tshisekedi in Doha and underlining that these negotiations are also critical to achieving lasting peace.

For Kagame, the failure to eliminate the FDLR would mean the persistence of the threat Rwanda has long faced.

'If FDR is not dealt with and we have set out the way to deal with it in the agreement, then that means FDLR continues to be there and the problem continues to be there,' he noted.
The Head of State also reiterated that Rwanda would not hesitate to take necessary actions to defend its borders and people.

'We have this obligation and we have laid our case. And out of that, we have agreed to do a number of things to deal with and do it together with others. And we will do that.'

President Paul Kagame has reaffirmed Rwanda’s unwavering stance on national security during a conversation with the media held on the occasion of the country’s 31st Liberation Day.

Théophile Niyitegeka

In a post on X shared on July 4 to mark Rwanda’s 31st Liberation Day, commonly known as Kwibohora31, Gen Muhoozi extended warm wishes to the people of Rwanda, recalling the immense sacrifice made by those who stopped the genocide and restored hope to a devastated nation.

'My dear friends in Rwanda, I wish you a happy #Kwibohora31. We remember the heroes who stopped the genocide and restored hope and development,' Muhoozi wrote. 'President Paul Kagame and his army carried out a heroic act that the whole world will always remember.'

He also used the occasion to reflect on the shared history and ties between Rwanda and Uganda, calling for lasting peace and deeper cooperation between the two neighbouring countries.

'Rwanda and Uganda are nations bound by history and blood. We desire lasting peace, deep friendship, and strong cooperation between our peoples,' he added.

Gen. Muhoozi, who has long expressed admiration for Kagame, has played a notable role in strengthening ties between Rwanda and Uganda.

Rwanda’s Liberation Day commemorates the victory of the RPA, under the leadership of then-commander Paul Kagame, in stopping the 1994 Genocide against the Tutsi, which claimed a million lives. It is a day of reflection, celebration, and honouring the resilience of the Rwandan people.

Ugandan army chief, General Muhoozi Kainerugaba, on Friday paid a glowing tribute to President Paul Kagame and the Rwanda Patriotic Army (RPA) for their historic role in ending the 1994 Genocide against the Tutsi, describing their actions as a “heroic act the world will always remember.”

Wycliffe Nyamasege

Held on the night of Thursday, July 3, 2025, the concert set the tone for Rwanda’s 31st Liberation Day, dubbed ‘Kwibohora31’, immersing the crowd in a blend of cultural pride, music, and modern technology.

The venue was packed to capacity, with every seat taken by fans of traditional Rwandan music and dance. Maji Maji, backed by a live band, opened the night with an energetic set, followed by the powerful rhythms and choreographed brilliance of Ishyaka ry’Intore.

The Inyamibwa troupe then took the spotlight before a collective of performers closed the show with moving renditions of wartime songs that once inspired Rwanda’s liberation fighters.

Midway through the show, the audience was caught off guard, in the best way possible. As Inyamibwa performed, the skies above Kigali lit up—not with fireworks, but with a fleet of drones spelling out words and symbols in perfect harmony.

The aerial spectacle featured glowing messages honouring President Paul Kagame, who led the liberation struggle, as well as sky-written images of the Rwandan flag and the country’s map—a powerful fusion of tradition and tech that brought the house to its feet.

This marked the first-ever edition of the 'Urw’intwari’ concert, and organisers from Ma Africa told IGIHE the event is set to become an annual highlight on Rwanda’s entertainment calendar.

Maji Maji was the first to entertain music lovers who had gathered for the concert.

The concert was attended not only by young people but also by members of the older generation who joined in freely.

The atmosphere at the 'Urw’intwari’ concert was bursting with happiness and celebration.

The Ishyaka ry’Intore troupe thrilled attendees with their performance.

The Ishyaka ry’Intore troupe poured their energy into delivering a captivating performance that thoroughly entertained their fans.

Gatore Yannick’s son, a dancer with the 'Ishyaka ry’Intore’ troupe, discovered his passion for dance early in childhood.

The Inyamibwa troupe also performed for traditional music fans gathered at the Kigali Convention Centre.

Celebrated gospel singer Israel Mbonyi was among the attendees at the concert.

The dancers of the Inyamibwa troupe are some of the most celebrated and beloved performers.

Drones painted the map of Rwanda in the sky.

Among those honoured for their role in the struggle to liberate the country is President Kagame.

Israel Mbonyi was thrilled to see the drone show in the sky.

Attendees filmed the dazzling drone show as it lit up the night sky over Kigali.

Those who attended the concert occasionally joined in with some dancing.

Miss Kayumba Darina and her partner were spotted enjoying the concert together.

Photos: Kasiro Claude

IGIHE

Some camp out overnight to purchase it; others pay steep premiums to add it to their collections. After a decade of relative obscurity, the character has surged into mainstream prominence, becoming a cultural and commercial juggernaut while igniting debate over the evolving aesthetics of a new generation.

Originally inspired by a Northern European forest elf, Labubu’s unsettling yet strangely endearing appearance exemplifies what has come to be known as the “funny-ugly” aesthetic. At first glance, many find themselves asking, “What is this odd creature?” A second look often evokes a different reaction: “It’s weirdly adorable.”

The term ” funny-ugly” – a blend of the charming and the offbeat – has gained traction online as a way to describe products that stray from traditional beauty standards but possess an inexplicable allure. Over the past few years, dolls, mascots, and novelty goods that once would have seemed too peculiar for mainstream taste have found enthusiastic audiences, especially among Gen Z consumers. Once niche, this aesthetic is fast becoming a cultural movement.

In 2022, a plush toy modeled after a bronze galloping horse from the Gansu Provincial Museum went viral in China for its awkwardly cocked head and carefree expression. The toy’s appeal lay precisely in its imperfection. The following year, a garish green frog-shaped spoon with bulging eyes and a gaping mouth became an unexpected social media hit, spurring a wave of online sharing, comments, and purchases.

In 2025, among the many snake-themed mascots unveiled for the Year of the Snake, two stood out: Guangzhou’s “Heart-Eyed Snake” and Kunming’s “Baby Snake.”

Online platforms have helped turn this aesthetic into a social phenomenon. The Taobao Ugly Stuff Contest, which invites users to share offbeat or intentionally unattractive designs, has completed four popular editions. On Xiaohongshu, a Chinese platform with combined features of Instagram and Pinterest, also known as RedNote abroad, hashtags like “Ugly Stuff” and “Ugly Stuff Contest” have racked up over 60 million views.

This trend is not unique to China. In the UK, Fuggler has built a fanbase around creepy-cute monster dolls – each featuring mismatched teeth and slightly grotesque expressions. In Japan, a keychain mascot called YUKIO – a slouching, emotionless humanoid figure with droopy eyes – has become a best-seller among young travelers. With more than 200 variations, YUKIO embodies the global appeal of the funny-ugly ethos.

Behind this trend lies a deeper cultural and psychological shift shaped by consumerism and social media dynamics. The embrace of funny-ugly reflects not just changing aesthetic sensibilities, but also evolving attitudes toward identity, self-expression, and emotional release in a high-pressure, hyper-connected world.

For many young people, funny-ugly products are more than collectibles but emotional companions, stress relievers, and conversation starters. Their appeal is magnified by social media, where trends are amplified in real time and communities form around shared, often quirky tastes.

Some critics question whether this embrace of the bizarre signals a retreat from beauty or a drift into “anti-aesthetics.” But such judgments may overlook a fundamental point: aesthetic standards are neither fixed nor universal. In German, the word for aesthetics – Ästhetik – derives from the concept of perception itself. Today’s youth are not rejecting beauty but expanding its definition.

What makes the funny-ugly aesthetic resonate so strongly with Gen Z is its spirit of rebellion and individuality. It challenges the notion that beauty must conform to symmetry, polish, or tradition. Instead, it embraces pluralism, imperfection, and play – qualities that mirror the values of a generation intent on self-definition.

Pop Mart, the Chinese toy company behind Labubu, has tapped into this cultural current with precision. Blending distinctive design with savvy marketing, the company has turned Labubu into a symbol of new-age aesthetics. In 2023, China’s designer toy market surpassed 50 billion yuan ($6.96 billion), with funny-ugly products claiming an ever-growing share.

As cultural tastes continue to diversify, the future of funny-ugly is likely to evolve. Whether Labubu will remain a lasting icon or be overtaken by the next strange-yet-endearing sensation depends on a simple truth: understanding the emotional and cultural language of youth.

Photo shows a plush toy inspired by a bronze galloping horse from the Gansu Provincial Museum in northwest China. (Photo from the official website of the Gansu Provincial Museum)

Zheng Na

During a press briefing held on Thursday, July 3, 2025, Minister Kayikwamba addressed questions surrounding the peace agreement recently signed between Rwanda and the DRC in Washington. The discussion focused particularly on the FDLR and its role in the continued insecurity in eastern DRC.

When asked about her country’s commitment to dismantling the FDLR, Minister Kayikwamba affirmed that the DRC is prepared to act in line with the provisions of the peace deal.

She noted that the issue of the FDLR has been repeatedly raised over the past three decades and insisted that her government is ready to resolve it.

However, she also questioned the extent of the group’s threat, suggesting that its continued mention has served more as a political pretext than a pressing security concern.

She argued that any solution must begin with an honest assessment of how many FDLR members remain and the scale of the threat they actually pose.

Once that is established, she said, the matter can be resolved through various means, and the objective can be declared achieved.

In response, Minister Nduhungirehe emphasized that Rwanda would welcome any sincere efforts to dismantle the FDLR.

He pointed out that if the DRC now considers the FDLR merely an old pretext, Rwanda is equally prepared to lift Kinshasa’s pretext (defensive measures), on the condition that the FDLR is genuinely and permanently neutralized.

He underscored that with political will, anything is possible, and reiterated Rwanda’s readiness to respond in kind once the security threat posed by the FDLR is eliminated.

The exchange came in the wake of the peace agreement signed between Rwanda and the DRC on June 27, 2025, aimed at addressing the ongoing insecurity in eastern Congo.

The deal includes commitments to respect national sovereignty, end hostilities, disarm non-state armed groups, support the reintegration of combatants, facilitate the return of refugees, and promote regional economic cooperation.

A key component of the agreement is a joint framework for dismantling the FDLR, whose continued presence has long been a source of tension between the two countries.

Rwanda and the DRC signed peace agreement on June 27, 2025.

IGIHE

For many years, the Nyungwe Forest, now Nyungwe National Park, remained an underutilised natural asset, vulnerable to poaching and deforestation. However, over the past 25 years, under the leadership of President Paul Kagame, Rwanda has transformed its approach, prioritising conservation and sustainable tourism across its unique landscapes.

As part of this vision, several forest areas, including Nyungwe, were converted into protected national parks. To unlock their tourism potential, Rwanda partnered with African Parks, an international conservation organisation, leading to the development of three major attractions inside Nyungwe.

The park now features a 1,935-meter zipline that offers panoramic views of the forest canopy, along with a 280-meter rope course designed for adventurous treetop exploration. At the heart of these developments is Munazi Lodge, the park’s first and only hotel built deep within the forest.

The lodge was constructed in response to the challenges faced by visitors who previously had to seek accommodation outside the park boundaries. Construction began in early 2024 and was completed in early 2025, with furnishing finalised in May and the hotel opening to guests in June.

Munazi Lodge is the first hotel ever built deep within Nyungwe Forest, setting it apart from all other lodges and accommodations, which are located outside the park.

The name Munazi comes from the Umunazi tree, known for its wide-spreading branches that resemble a natural umbrella when viewed from below.

Room rates at Munazi Lodge vary by room type and season. The premium suite costs $220 per night during the low season and $270 in the peak season for international guests, while Rwandan residents pay $180 in low season and $220 during peak times. Standard rooms are priced at $185 per night in the low season and $230 in the peak season for international visitors.

The hotel’s most premium room is priced at $270 per night during the peak season.

All rooms offer a unique sensory experience, immersing guests in the natural sounds of Nyungwe’s 1,019 km² ecosystem, from birdsong to rustling leaves and distant animal calls.

The eco-lodge is entirely timber-built, from floors to walls, and all interior furnishings were locally crafted in Rwanda. With 20 beds, the lodge accommodates up to 20 guests per night.

The officials, led by Rwanda Development Board (RDB) CEO Jean-Guy Afrika, were given a tour showcasing the hotel’s beauty.

Children aged 6 to 12 are charged $100 per night, while those under 6 stay for free. Guests over 12 pay the full adult rate.

The lodge was built at a cost exceeding $612,000, excluding interior fittings, and currently employs 25 staff members, with plans to expand the team to 60 in the near future.

All the décor in this hotel was made in Rwanda.

Zipline

The zipline, which allows tourists to glide through the air above Nyungwe National Park’s forest canopy, began construction in 2024 and was completed in May 2025 at a cost exceeding $342,000.

In just one month since it opened, the attraction had already drawn over 800 users, over 90% of whom were Rwandan visitors.

Stretching 1,935 meters, the zipline is divided into three segments: the first takes about 20 seconds to complete, the second 43 seconds, and the final segment around 58 seconds. Because there are short walking intervals between each section, a fast-moving visitor can complete the full course in about five minutes.

Ticket prices vary: international tourists pay $100, East African residents pay $80, and Rwandan nationals pay 20,000 Rwandan Francs.

The officials were assured of the zipline’s safety during their visit.

Rope Course

The rope course, though shorter at 280 meters, offers an equally thrilling experience for adventurous visitors. Designed as a suspended obstacle course, it challenges participants to move carefully across swaying elements.

Completing the course gives participants a strong sense of accomplishment and helps build personal confidence.

The rope course presents a physically demanding challenge for anyone navigating it.

Access costs $35 for international visitors, $20 for East African residents, and 10,000 Rwandan Francs for Rwandan nationals.

Canopy walk & Combo packages

The Canopy Walk, one of Nyungwe’s most iconic experiences, costs $125 for international visitors, $100 for East African residents, and 23,000 Rwandan Francs for Rwandans.

For those who wish to experience all three attractions, Zipline, Rope Course, and Canopy Walk, a combined package is available for $150 for international tourists, $110 for East African residents, and 40,000 Rwandan Francs for Rwandans.

Jean-Guy Afrika, CEO of the Rwanda Development Board (RDB), who officiated the inauguration of the facilities, expressed confidence that they would boost tourist traffic and help the country achieve its goal of generating $1 billion in annual tourism revenue by 2030.

'Rwanda has chosen to pursue high-value, low-volume tourism,' Afrika said.

Tourism remains a cornerstone of Rwanda’s economy, currently generating about 1.9 trillion Rwandan Francs (approximately $1.5 billion) annually. Afrika noted that government policy has driven remarkable growth in tourism revenue—from $7 million in 2006 to $660 million today—with a clear trajectory toward surpassing the $1 billion mark by the end of the decade.

Western Province Executive Secretary Florence Uwambajemariya welcomed the developments, saying they align with the second phase of Rwanda’s National Strategy for Transformation (NST2).

'These are infrastructures that directly support six of the NST2 priorities,' she said. 'They contribute to climate resilience, create local jobs—since guides are Rwandan—and support the rural economy, as food served at the lodge is sourced locally.'

Tourism revenue from Nyungwe is growing rapidly. In 2021, the park brought in about $300,000; by 2024, this had risen to $2.3 million, and projections estimate it will reach $3.4 million in 2025.

All the facilities, including the zipline, rope course, and Munazi Lodge, were constructed between 2024 and 2025 at a total cost of over Frw 1 billion.

The officials were impressed by the Zipline, Munazi Lodge, and the Rope Course.

African Parks highlighted that these three facilities showcase Rwanda’s unique appeal and are key attractions driving tourism to the country.

IGIHE