The road to Lake Kivu

Taking a road trip in Rwanda is a bit like falling into an Enid Blyton ‘Adventure Series’ novel as a child. Every chapter along the road offers something unexpected that keeps you riveted right until the grand finale.

Our mission was to go to Kibuye on Lake Kivu in the west of the country, about a 3 hour drive from our base at Nyamata. We left at 8.30 a.m. and stopped in Kigali for what we thought was an hour of shopping. That turned into a saga of its own and we eventually departed from Kigali after midday. As we left the city behind, the landscape changed. All around were gentle rolling hills with deep red earth, scattered green crops and the road ahead of us winding its way up and down and around the curves. No chance of zipping along though as the single lane road was packed in both directions with crowded buses, battered cars, bicycles piled high with all sorts of interesting objects and a constant molten lava of people walking, many balancing impossible loads on their heads. Whole branches of tightly packed bananas, clusters of sugar canes, huge jerrycans of water, basins of passion fruit, baskets of avocados, haystacks of grass for fodder, basically anything that the land produces was being carried either home or to market. These people know the value of every mouthful of food because of the immense effort required to obtain it. Nobody was remotely overweight, neither were they underweight but all were spending hours and hours every day just procuring what was needed for survival.

At one stage, we unwittingly took a wrong turn. As we merrily drove drinking in the spectacular scenery, we happened upon a human ambulance. First, we passed a group of men and women walking quickly and carrying large banana leaves. They were following another group just ahead who were transporting a stretcher on their shoulders. Justine told us that this was the way people needing medical help were transported to hospital years ago but that she hadn’t seen such a sight in decades. We were high in remote hills at this stage and we passed by the procession marvelling at the community spirit of support for the unfortunate individual. The group behind were the relief porters and the banana leaves were to shade and cool the patient. Further along the road we stopped to buy bananas at a market and that was when we discovered we needed to retrace our steps to return to the correct road. As we made our way back, we met the human ambulance again and we dared to stop the car to speak to them as they had paused for a change over. The patient worked in the mines and had broken his leg that morning. He had an impressive tourniquet protecting his leg and the stretcher was made from banana leaves and bamboo trunks fashioned into a very comfortable bed. We felt reassured that he was in good hands despite the fact that he was still a long way from the hospital.

The next incredulous sight was a man cycling up a particularly steep stretch of hill with a heap of wooden furniture strapped to the back of his bicycle. Was he delivering these two long benches and a table capable of seating a family of six or were they destined for his own family, hence his determination to get them home despite the steep incline?

Soon we were back on the right road and the afternoon had taken on a feeling of exciting adventure. We were still far from our journey’s end despite the hours we had been driving and the expression It’s not the destination, it’s the journey that matters was playing in my head. It was impossible to feel frustration at the slow progress we were making because everything around us was so damn interesting. We stopped to admire a particular view down over a valley and while we were standing at the edge of the slope, we spotted three young children slowly making their way up the steep, rough ground, one with a huge jerrycan balanced on his head and the others carrying smaller ones stoppered with a cob of sweetcorn. The children were barefooted and were returning from collecting water miles down the valley at the brown river below. This image stayed with me for days afterwards every time I turned on a tap and clean, cool water flowed out.

In case you were wondering, we did eventually arrive at the lake. Just as the sun set. It had taken us nine hours, our whole day. A day indelibly imprinted on our minds forever.

Le grá,

Gill