Volume 1 Issue 1

I do not enjoy talking about myself. Putting myself out on the internet is not something I want to do. However, I feel like my experiences are similar to so many out there; I wish there were a club—a place where we could speak to each other. I am not an extrovert; I enjoy a small circle of precious people. Shared experience is the glue that binds us.

A Memory of 2017

I am finally in Muyinga. I arrived yesterday evening with my cousin Rob after spending time in Bujumbura.

It has been a great experience so far. I met Emile, my uncle, dad's younger brother. When I saw him, I immediately saw my dad in him. He is built and talks like my dad too. It was weird.

I found him in the middle of closing the shop. We briefly talked, and he told me a bit of my origin story. He spoke of Kayanza and the house I was born in. He described our life in Cankuzo, where my father relocated us in 1993 after being warned by a family friend that we were going to be killed by Tutsis.

After we talked, my cousin Rob took me to Mack, another cousin closing for the night. He has a store where he charges phones for people at a price. We ventured to his home, where I met Jacqueline, his wife. She was charming. I also met his three children. First is Frank, ten years old, he came to pick me up at the airport with Rob. Kevin, is four years old, but he swears that he is 100 years old; he made me laugh so hard. Josiane, 12 years old, shy and quiet young girl.

After dinner, I went to meet Malik, another cousin. We used the light from the stars in the sky to guide us to his house. It felt hard walking around in darkness since I grew accustomed to having lights on at night. I had a flashback to when I was a child living in Kayanza. Luckily, we had a flashlight. After no luck at home, we located him at a local bar. Malik was not what I expected. He seems kind with a humble spirit. I can see people in this area care about his opinions.

The part of Muyinga where I am is called Rugari. As I write this, this place seems poor, but people here are not broke. It is missing things like lighting, paved roads, running water, sewage system, and it is dirty. At night, while walking back home, we encountered a few men walking around. They inquired about me because they had never seen me in the area before. I greeted them and moved on. Later, my cousins explained that the local Imbonerakure group was doing neighborhood watch at night.