In Kigali’s oldest neighborhood, writer Shivya Nath meets a group of trailblazing Rwandan women. From teaching travelers how to make a traditional isombe stew to leading motorbike tours, we chat with these women about the power of community-led tourism.
On a balmy spring morning in Kigali, I hail an electric motorbike. Sitting behind the male driver, we navigate leafy streets lined with avocado and mango trees and battle noisy rush hour traffic before climbing up the winding roads that lead to Nyamirambo—the Rwandan capital’s oldest neighborhood.
My destination looks like an average storefront—through the wide open entrance, I can see full shelves stacked with handmade clothes and accessories, from gitambaro (traditional head wrap) and baskets to children’s wear and long dresses, all in vibrant colors. But what I’m about to learn is that this is also the front for a women-powered revolution that’s been quietly brewing here in Rwanda: The Nyamirambo Women’s Center (NWC).
A young woman with braided hair introduces herself as Aline Tuyishime, my guide for the day’s cultural walking tour of Nyamirambo. While we wait for the rest of our group to arrive, I watch as other female guides lead small groups of travelers away from the center, some for a hike up Mount Kigali, others for a Rwandan cooking class in a local home. A few are even heading out on a city tour by moto taxi, with women guides in the driving seat. In a country where motorbike taxis are the ubiquitous mode of transport—and always driven by men—Aline proudly tells me that women are finally claiming their place in the city.
We follow Aline through alleyways lined with colorful street art and graffiti. One wall, displaying the word ‘ubumuntu’ catches my eye, and Aline explains that it’s a Kinyarwanda (Rwanda’s national language) word which refers to the idea of being human, of being interconnected despite our differences. In a country like Rwanda, which witnessed a devastating genocide just over 30 years ago, the word carries the weight of remembrance.
Kinyatrap music, a heady blend of Kinyarwandan lyrics and hip-hop beats, pours out of a colorful house. We stop at a crowded community shop to see homegrown cassava leaves being ground into a paste that’s used to make isombe, a popular plant-based Rwandan stew. We visit ‘milky bars’—literal milk bars where cows’ milk is delivered from the countryside every morning, and locals drop by for a glass of milk or pot of yogurt.
Further along, we trade the noise of motorized traffic for the hum of people. In a buzzing pedestrian-only area, the aroma of freshly rolled flaky chapati (different from its Indian counterpart in that it’s made from refined flour and layered with oil) fills the air.
“When I see where we came from and where we are today, the dream is big.”
- Mary Nyangoma
A few days later, I meet Mary Nyangoma, one of the women who originally established the NWC. Mary tells me that women from across Rwanda move to Kigali in search of income. These women often find work as housemaids, and usually end up living in Nyamirambo as it’s one of the more affordable neighborhoods in the city.
With no formal work contracts, and a reluctance to return to their villages, women who find themselves unemployed can turn to sex work and may become pregnant. Despite reporting meaningful strides in women’s empowerment in the past three decades, the Rwanda Demographic and Health Survey 2019-20 notes that 46 percent of Rwandan women who’ve ever been married have experienced gender-based violence, while 37 percent of all women between the ages of 15 and 49 have experienced physical violence. Unemployment rates are also higher among Rwandan women, with nearly 15 percent less labor force participation than men, according to the country’s Labour Force Survey.
This is how 18 women—mostly single moms, with education varying from no formal schooling to secondary school—came together over 15 years ago with the idea to create a women’s center. They were already meeting in each other’s houses, offering support and solidarity. Why not formalize this hub and offer it to other women in need?
As luck would have it, their paths crossed with that of two Slovenian researchers, Dr Vlasta Jalusic and Dr Maja Ladic, both from The Peace Institute in Ljubljana. They had traveled to Rwanda, among other African countries, to study socio-economic issues facing local women. Hearing how the Nyamirambo women had been supporting each other, the researchers helped the local women secure a grant from the Slovenian Ministry of Foreign Affairs to set up a formal meeting space. The NWC women, ready to take the reins and eager to turn the funds into a consistent source of income, conceived a community tourism model—training marginalized women as tour guides.
Part of the tourism revenue generated was used to teach women how to read and write, learn vocational skills like sewing and hair braiding, and start their own small businesses, from running hair salons to selling handmade wares. Part of the rental property was converted into a store to sell the handicrafts made by women at the centre (under the brand name Umutima, meaning ‘heart’ in Kinyarwanda), and a small space was reserved as a library for young children so their mothers would have a safe, monitored space to leave them while they worked. All of this became the NWC: Part-storefront, part-workshop, part-children’s library, and part-meeting point for their tours.
Mary tells me that the NWC has trained nearly 6,000 women who have gone on to become small business owners, tour guides and craftswomen. “When I see where we came from and where we are today,” says Mary, “the dream is big.” Of the 6000 women they’ve trained, only 55 are currently part of the NWC cooperative. The waitlist of women wanting to train in vocational skills and entrepreneurship is far bigger than NWC’s current space and capacity.
So the NWC has set their eyes on a new goal: Establishing a women’s incubation center. Here, women from challenging socio-economic backgrounds will not only be trained, but will also find hands-on support to begin their journeys as entrepreneurs. The NWC have already bought the land, and there’s an ongoing fundraiser supported by tourists from around the world.
Over the course of a month, I slowly explore more of Kigali. I quickly sync with its rhythm, checking out local music gigs and art exhibitions, working from breezy rooftop cafes, doing yoga guided by Rwandan instructors, shopping at zero waste and social impact stores, and going for walks in urban forests and wetlands in the heart of the city. On car-free Sundays, I join thousands of locals to walk, jog or cycle the streets, convinced that this is one of the coolest cities I’ve ever visited—not just in Africa but in the world.
I find myself back at the NWC on another breezy morning, this time collecting freshly grown greens and vegetables from a shop in Nyamirambo, on our way to a cooking class in Aminatha Mutekatete’s home. I learn that Aminatha is not just a founding member of the NWC, but also known to be Nyamirambo’s best chef—I’m excited to help prepare and share a meal with her.
Mary was once a single mother in the capital, trying her best to provide for her two daughters. Now she’s one of the leaders of a women’s cooperative and both her daughters have started at university.
In a spacious courtyard with exposed brick walls, we gather around a long table to wash, peel and chop. The earthy aroma of cassava leaves, mixed with the strong fragrance of onion and garlic, make my tummy rumble as I watch our isombe—a traditional stew of mashed cassava leaves—come together. Back in the day, Rwandan food was prepared with handground spices and herbs, including cardamom, cloves and turmeric, but I’m surprised to learn that the ubiquitous Maggi seasoning cubes have replaced them not just in restaurants across the country but also in home kitchens too.
By midday, our hearty and naturally vegan Rwandan feast is ready, featuring isombe, ibishyumbo (kidney beans stew), dodo (amaranth leaves) and matooke (green banana), sweet potatoes and cassava. Aminatha’s cooking indeed turns out to be the best I’ll have while in Rwanda. When I compliment her, she tells me that she also makes lovely aloo paranthas (flatbread stuffed with spiced potatoes)—a staple in my home country India. It turns out that before helping establish the NWC, Aminatha served as a cook in the home of an Indian family settled in Kigali. Now she gets to share her love for cooking, and the recipes handed down from her mother and grandmother, with people from around the world, while also supporting the women of her community.
When I ask Mary how this journey with the NWC has impacted her own life, she pauses. “When you see my picture there,” she says pointing to a sepia-tinted photo from the collective’s early days, “you will not see ‘me’”.
Mary was once a single mother in the capital, trying her best to provide for her two daughters. Now she’s one of the leaders of a women’s cooperative and both her daughters have started at university. “If it wasn’t for the women’s center, I don’t know where I would be right now, or where my children would be.”
The work of the NWC reflects the power of conscious, community-led travel. A walking tour with Aline or a cooking class with Aminatha, is not only immersive and rewarding for the traveler but it has a tangible, positive impact on the local community. And that feels like it should always be the goal of travel; a journey that allows us to reflect on our interconnectedness with the world, and find our place and purpose within it. Or as they’d say in Kinyarwanda: Ubumuntu.
****
Adventure.com strives to be a low-emissions travel publication. We are powered by, but editorially independent of, Intrepid Travel, the world’s largest travel B Corp, who help ensure Adventure.com maintains high standards of sustainability in our work and activities. You can visit our sustainability page or read our Contributor Impact Guidelines for more information.
Shivya Nath grew up in the Indian Himalayas, and is an award-winning travel writer, author and sustainable tourism consultant. She pursued a nomadic life for nearly seven years, living with remote communities around the world, and writing stories at the intersection of travel, the environment and local communities. She is the founder of Climate Conscious Travel, where she works with destinations and businesses to integrate community-centric climate action in tourism offerings.
