Agaciro (udu-) /agacîiro/1. dignity, self-respect
In the popular play A Streetcar Named Desire, Blanche DuBois boards a tram to escape her past. She has lost the family home, been fired from her job and tries desperately to conceal her alcohol addiction. Words like dignity and self-respect are not often used to describe the character of Blanche DuBois.
The tram Blanche rode takes its name from the street along which it ran. But this post isn't about a journey through the Bywater district in New Orleans. It's about a bus that runs from Musanze to Kigali.
Two weeks ago I travelled from Rwanda's capital, Kigali, to the north east of the country. The entire stretch of road is paved, the scenery spectacular and the scale of terrace farming a feat of human perseverance. After two days of exploring Musanze, known as the Gateway to the Gorillas for the thousands of tourists who visit every year, I headed back to Kigali. I'd bought my ticket and only had to get on the correct bus. At 4:45pm, right on time, a bus pulled up. Its destination: Agaciro.
I was a little puzzled. Having lived in Rwanda for just under a year, not once has anyone mentioned a place called Agaciro. After about 30 seconds the electronic sign above the windshield flickered. It now read Kigali. Not wanting to end up in the middle of nowhere, I asked the man directing traffic "Kuri Kigali?" "Yego" he answered. He looked down at my ticket. This bus was going to Kigali, he said, but it wasn't mine. He pointed to another bus across the parking lot and told me to get on there.
During the ride home I realised why that bus had "Agaciro" as its destination. It hadn't meant a place or the name of a bus stop. It was referring to the direction the country has taken since 1994 and continues to strive towards today. The concept at the heart of Rwanda's rebirth: dignity and self-respect.
The first time I came across the concept of Agaciro was while listening to a speech by Rwanda's President Paul Kagame. He said the word tries to capture the very essence of humanness. Speaking to university students at a commencement address in the United States, he said:
"Rwandans of your generation are more optimistic about their country than any before them. They are full of hope, full of pride. This is because they have grown up in a society that has restored the enduring spirit of agaciro."
In the western world, we don't often talk about the values that guide our behaviour towards each other and how we should hold ourselves. Sure, we talk of honesty and kindness, but these ideas are just that, ideas. They rarely unite a society in common purpose. In Rwanda, it's a different story.
In 1994, Rwanda was the poorest country on the planet. More than one million Tutsi and moderate Hutu had been brutally murdered and the country's institutions almost entirely destroyed. In the late 1990s aid dependence stood at 85 percent.
Just as there is no dignity in having to beg to survive, there is little dignity for a country to be so dependent on the goodwill of others. And it's this attitude that permeates Rwandan society today. It's been the guiding principle for Rwanda to reduce it's dependence on foreign aid, now at 41 percent. That might still seem high, but just two years ago it was at 50 percent.
You might have read recently the some countries have suspended aid to Rwanda because of allegations that the country is backing a rebel group in the eastern Congo. When this first happened I was shocked at the reaction of some of my Rwandan friends. I had expected them to be just as appalled as I was. Instead, they said, "Good, they can keep their money. We shouldn't need it anyway. We can stand on our own two feet".
I didn't understand it at the time, but this is exactly what Agaciro looks like in Rwandan society. My own country doesn't need aid (and doesn't get bossed around by donors), so why should theirs. This piece by Diana Mpyisi captures the sentiment well.
There's still much more I have to learn about the concept of Agaciro and its role in Rwanda's rebirth, but I have no doubt that it won't be long before the country reaches its destination; not depending on the kindness of strangers and fully realising its dream of dignity and self-reliance. Just like the bus from Musanze.
