frederick, A story of Boundless Hope I am back in Kigali and transmitted both of my business plan. One for the tea Union and one for the microfinance agency. My journey is coming to a close end. This weekend I will celebrate the ending with the homecoming of Stromae but first I want to share the incredible story of Frederick Ndabaramiye. Frederick has a project -I am able. Frederick is also a good cyclist. He beats most people. I see a picture of a short man with no hands cycling his heart out. This is fantastic! Frederick is also a good painter and sells his work in the U.S. I was wondering if Frederick paints with his mouth. I have to find out more. Frederick arrives and he is just beyond warmhearted. He gives me a hug and a big smile, I hadn’t even noticed his hands were cut off. He moves his arms as if there are hands on them. He picks his cellphone from his pocket, drinks tea, uses a fork to eat, drives a car all without any problems. It is almost as he has invincible hands. Frederick is very smart, well educated and funny. You can not love this person. Years after the genocide, he sat on a bus and was stopped by genociders (killers, people that continued killing Tutsis after the genocide) The genociders got on the bus and asked all Tutsi children to step out of the bus so they could kill him. Frederick was then labeled as a Hutu and would not be killed. Frederick was given a machete and was instructed to kill the other Hutus. Frederick refused. Everyone was taken off the bus and the recognizable Tutsis were killed. Frederick had to watch. As a punishment for not killing the others, the genociders wanted to teach him a life long lesson. They tied his hands together and cut them off! It is a gruesome story that inspired him to open a large center in Gisenyi for other children whom were mutulated by the genocide. I visited the center and was schocked, to see it was so big. Blind kids were thought how to sow and make beautiful handicrafts. I picked up a map of Africa for my son to put pictures in. The schools teaches music, computer classes, English, you name it. It is huge. There are also children who are born with disabilities and not victims of genocide. There is also an elementary and kindergarten school. Kids without disabilities sit next to kids with disabilities. Everyone can speak sign language. Even the ones that don’t need it. Everyone is in harmony in the school. I entered a few classrooms with Frederic. They all welcomed me. We have a visitor from Belgium and her name is Francine. The children loudly said: Goodmorning and Welcome Francine! Other children did sign language to me. I told them to teach me how are you in sign language. So now I know it also. I continue through the center and enter the music room. I find a blind and deaf man playing the guitar. You can hear the pain in the music. In the computer class, I met a man whose eyes were taking out by the genociders and made deaf. The atrocities are real here but Thanks to Frederick and his team; they all have hope. They are signing, sowing, playing, doing all kinds of activities. Children without disabilities pay the fees for the children with disability. If you have no disability but your parents have, you pay half the price. This system is great. No one frowns upon you whether you are missing a leg, hand or not. In Frederick’s place everyone is able and he sure is the living proof. Disability is NOT an Inability You can visit the website of Frederick: www.iamABLEucc.wordpress.com Facebook: IamABLE Twitter: IamAble1

A new mission in Gitarama is awaiting me! This time I will be working for CPS Ineza, a microfinance agency in need of a business plan. Organised by BNP Paribas Benevolab & Exchange. My holiday has come to an end. Our last stop was in Gisenyi, where I went to Pfunda to see Numerien and Jean de Dieu of the tea farmers Union in Rwanda. Numerien was excited to meet my mom. We discussed his work, last week and prepared for my next meeting in Kigali with the Rwandan Board of Development. This meeting went excellent I was able to present BNP and Exhange plus inform them about the field issues of the poor tea pluckers. I really wanted my mom to see Gisenyi, as I loved the place. I was told to stay at the sisters of Gisenyi. I had already stayed in Serena. So why not try the sisters. People supposedly go on honeymoon there. We got to the sisters and saw that it was another basic room. Oh No, I thought to myself, I have had enough of that during mission time. My mom said she could only stay in such a place if it was for God. In the name of the spirit she didn’t dare to cancel so we took the room. My mom was complaining about the smell and insects. All of a sudden I got bitten everywhere. This is not a honeymoon place! We requested another room. As soon as we got in, we took the blankets off and threw them in a closet. My mom poured Holy water everywhere. I told her we should leave. She said for God, I can stay. The sisters prepared us a lovely dinner and Frederique came over for dinner. All of a sudden a cat appeared underneath the table. My mom went crazy. She doesn’t believe of having pets in the house. She is also convinced cats can carry negative spirits. She ran into the room to pray. While  Frederique was leaving the sisters had locked us in. Finally straw for my mom! She had decided that this place was haunted and we needed to go. We woke up the sisters, insisted we had to leave for an early flight and paid. They didn’t believe us. They had overheard my mom complaining about having pets in the house. God had revealed a secret to her. At 10:30 pm, we arrive in Serena Hotel. 5star hotel, she will be able to sleep now. The sisters wasn’t a Holy Place so mom couldn’t stay in basic accommodation. I am starting to wonder who the African is. Definitely not her because like she says: this is rubbish. In Gisenyi, we shopped at a lady cooperative and I bought lots of African fabric bags and gifts to take to Belgian. I had told to my mom to break the price as I hadn’t haggled in Rwanda. She fought for the price but then we converted in dollars, we realised we were fighting over 2 dollars. My God when mom realised that we both felt bad. She was thinking in Nairas and I was thinking in Rwandan Francs. 

Later that day, we found a worm in my new pants in my suitcase and you don’t want to know what she thought of that. First page in the Bible, subdue the Animal and be aware of evil spirits. Mother always has a crazy story to tell. People can’t be trusted, you have to lock all doors and always sleep with underwear because intruders are everywhere. She tells me all the time: You don’t know Africa my daughter. Well having spend a lot of time in West Africa, I agree with her statement. However, we are in East Africa, where the culture is totally different. Safety and security is the number one priority of Rwanda. Second is eradicating poverty and advancement. There is no corruption here and crooks and thieves are as good as none. She will have to learn the new Africa. This time when I brought her to the airport, I didn’t cry. As I am sure, we will see each other soon again. We won’t let four years pass. Through circumstances we have been apart for a long time. On this trip, she had a chance to Skype with my son (seeing his face for the first time) and with my brother after ten years. Through Skype we were all in 1 room for the very first time. Initially, I had planned to travel alone throughout Rwanda but I was very glad, she came along on this journey. It was a lot of laughter this time and less tears.

Nyanza King’s Palace The plan was to see the whole Rwanda in 7 days. So we now arrived in Nyanza to see the King’s Palace. Before booking this I didn’t google online. I was expecting a large palace but I was wrong. I kept on asking ‘Are you sure this is the King’s Palace?’ I don’t see a palace, this is giant hut. Little did I know about how the ancestors lived. We decided to hire a guide so I could understand everything. My mom had been whining because the journey is quite heavy. Long car drives to arrive at amazing things. She loved Nyungwe, Kibuye and the Holy Land. She thought I was over exaggerating but I want her to learn and see. She is too materialistic and needs to enjoy other cultures. I need her to see there is a life outside of the Church. Surprisingly enough she wanted to see the King’s Palace and took great interest till they started speaking of Sacred Cows. The King’s Palace is wonderful. It is a compound with 3 smaller huts and 1 large hut for the King and Queen. In front of the hut there is a semi circle. The King would sit on his throne in the entrance. (The chair I am sitting on in the hut.) My mom kept on asking where is the large throne with decoration. She was baffled to see it was  small wooden chairs. Nothing compared to the lavish ancient Nigerian kings, she said. Everyone who wanted to visit the King, first had to stand in front of the semi circle and request entrance. If the King agreed that they could enter, shoes, sandals had to be taken of before entering the hut. The hut could be entered via the side opening. No one was allowed to step over the semicircle. This was considered disrespectful. One was never allowed to turn their back at the hut neither. There were many school children visiting as well and all of them stepped over the semi-circle and turn their back. Respect culture always is the message but they didn’t . The hut was very large. I was beyond surprised when I walked in. There was a seating side for ladies and one for men. There was a common living room to receive guests and a large wood ancient heater in the middle. The King’s bed was bigger than a king’s size. There was a King entrance and the queen had to climb on the bed from the back. There was a maid area that would sing to get the King sexually aroused. While making love the maids would sing louder and clap hard to keep the King in the mood. In the hut there was also an area where the Queen could receive her friends or ladies. The children of the King each had their own hut. No one lives together with the King. From the King’s hut we walked over to the milk hut. Milk was considered special and the milkmaid had to be a virgin. She was trained and selected to become a milkmaid at age 14. The milk was kept in the hut and she made dairy products for the King. She also first tasted the milk to make sure there was no poison involved. The milkmaid hut had storage facilities in different size of paniers. The milk maid was only released from her duties and the end of the King’s reign. Before that she had to stay Virgin single. From the milk hut we walked to the beer hut. In the beer hut, a young boy lived and had to conduct quality control on the honey and banana beer. Fermented alcohol thus. Like they do in jail with potato and orange peels. These type of alcohols hold sometimes more than 90% alcohol. The King loves honey beer. The quality control boy received beer from all over the country and had to taste it. If it was bad, the beer was send away. This hut didn’t have a semi circle because when the boy would be drunk. He would fall. Semi circles are now in cement but they used to be in colored red and white earth. No man could enter the milk maid hut and no woman could enter the beer hut. From there we walk over to the sacred cows. My mother can not deal with animal worships and didn’t want to touch the cows. So I forced her :) The cow herder sang for the cows and they liked it. I was allowed to enter and touch the cows on their heads. When you touch them in between their horns they become almost catonic. The guide told me that these cows also exits in Belgium. I don’t think that’s true, I have never seen a cow like that. They resembled the longhorn cows in Texas. After spending time with the Holy cows, we visited the modern palace of the last King. Aha there is a stone palace :) This palace was given by the Belgians in 1932 as a bribe to the King. The King’s father was deported from Rwanda as he didn’t want colonisation. In order to get the son on the Belgian side, they blinded him with money. He received a countryside type of house because that’s what the palace looks like. (It even had a wine cellar.) He received a Volkswagen and a Porsche. He loved the money. He started wearing European clothing instead of the traditional King’s wear. He was also the first King to live in a brick house. Inside the palace, pictures weren’t allowed. I found it very unfortunate. It had pictures of the Rwandan King in Belgium standing in the Parliament. They had completely corrupted it. When the King find out what the hidden agenda of the Belgian was and decided to turn against them. He was mysteriously killed. During his reign, he had build another palace across from the first palace but never had to chance to use it. Nothing comes free in live. This makes me reflect on development aid. As nothing is free in life so is Development aid. It comes with conditions. Maybe development aid is a disguised version of colonialism ? You receive the finances if you follow the rules. Maybe it is time to learn from our history. I understood that Rwanda has created a fund in which people can donate money. This fund can be used in case of emergency so that the country in crisis doesn’t need to rely on development aid. Very clever, Kagame. Rwandans understand that they have to help themselves. No one can. Greediness can ruin a country.