No Uber, no late nights, no Kinyarwanda, and somehow Kigali still won me over.
By 2024, I hadn't left Ghana in a while. When I finally had the chance to travel, my friends assumed I'd head for Europe or the States. I didn't even leave the continent. Kigali had been on my radar for years. Everyone raved about its peace, its cleanliness, its forward-thinking energy, and no video ever seemed to capture it. I had to see it for myself.
I like to tell people I don't have expectations before I visit a place. That's a lie. Everyone does. I've been disappointed before, and that's part of what makes travel exciting for me: the uncertainty, the unexpected, the gap between what you imagined and what you find.
I landed on Saturday, 19 October, at a small, orderly airport. The immigration officers weren't exactly cheerful. Then again, maybe I was the problem. I'd arrived expecting a welcome fit for a West African prince, and they had a queue to process. Still, everything went smoothly. My Airbnb host was waiting when I came out, and on the drive into the city I realised that everything people had said about Kigali was true. The streets were spotless and calm, nothing like the beautiful chaos of Accra. It felt like breathing different air.
My host suggested I take a nap. "I'm losing daylight," I told him. "I've only got twelve days." I dropped my bags and went straight back out.
Getting around
I'd bought an MTN SIM card at the airport for a reasonable price, and I'd recommend the same. Coverage was good, and most cafés and shops had Wi-Fi, so staying connected was never a problem.
Getting around was another story. There's no Uber in Kigali, and taxis are expensive, so before arriving I'd binge-watched YouTube videos about the motorbike taxis. They're the cheapest and most popular way to move, and they're properly regulated: helmets are mandatory, there's one passenger per bike, and riders actually obey traffic rules.
What YouTube didn't prepare me for was the language barrier. Kinyarwanda is spoken everywhere, and while English and French are both official languages, many riders spoke neither comfortably. So I developed a routine:
- Find a landmark.
- Show the rider my destination.
- Check the distance.
- Agree a price, usually between 500 and 1,500 Rwandan francs.
Then I'd climb on the back with Google Maps open and direct him turn by turn, using a mix of pointing, Google Translate and improvised sign language.
It worked most of the time. Sometimes it didn't, and I ended up somewhere I'd never planned to go. Kigali is small, though, and between the wrong turns and the right ones I'm fairly sure I saw most of it.
The cost of things
When I travel, I keep my antenna up for the cost of living, the economy and how people live. Rwanda's standard of living felt high compared to other African countries I've visited. I convert everything in my head, and the place that hurt most was restaurants. Eating out was surprisingly expensive.
I also struggled to find Rwandan food on menus. Apart from pilao, which I'm told isn't originally Rwandan anyway, most places served international dishes. I had fries and chicken at Atelier du Vin.
What surprised me was how cashless the city was. Even small souvenir sellers had card machines, sometimes several. I didn't register for mobile money because my stay was short, but I barely needed to. I paid cash for the bike riders and used my card for almost everything else.
The weight of the past
You can't understand a people without understanding their history. Rwanda's is heavy, and I learned more from a few hours at the Kigali Genocide Memorial than from anything I'd read beforehand. You feel that history in the city, in its quiet and its order.
I won't go into detail here. It also isn't something you casually bring up with Rwandans. I didn't, and I'd encourage other visitors to follow their lead.
After dark
Kigali has strict closing times for bars, clubs and restaurants, and by 1 AM the city has gone to bed. One night my host recommended a few spots. I picked one and found cold seats in an empty room, plus a bartender, Gloria, who kept me company for about 45 minutes before I accepted defeat.
I walked down to the junction to find a ride home, and that's when the city surprised me. Police officers stood on almost every corner, armed and alert. It was clear that nobody was getting away with anything.
I felt a sense of safety and freedom I rarely feel in another man's country.
The nightlife was tame, but I've never felt so calm walking home at 1 AM.
If you need nightlife to entertain you, Kigali may feel slow. If you can make your own fun, it's a different city. I was gutted that the basketball league was out of season. That's at the top of my list for next time.
Finding my people
A week in, I hadn't met many people. TV and radio weren't much help with the language barrier, so I went looking for a contemporary church that held services in English. I found one, Christian Life Assembly, and met a very different slice of Kigali: polished, well-dressed and smelling expensive. The 10% of the 10%. I fit right in, at least until I opened my mouth. For a moment I wondered whether people thought I was the president's son.
More importantly, I made friends there, and through them I joined one of Kigali's hiking groups. Fitness is a big part of life in the city, and these groups are as much about socialising as exercise. We hiked Kanombe for somewhere between three and five hours, a mix of diaspora and locals. It was hard going, and I loved every minute of it: the laughs, the conversations, the stories people shared on the way up.
I'm still in the WhatsApp group.
A city with plans
You can feel Rwanda positioning itself for the future. There are programmes to attract foreign talent and investors, and a real government push towards tech and ICT. The Kigali Convention Centre hosts international conferences all year round. I walked the grounds and took a photo with the Giant Palm, Rwanda's Anti-Corruption Monument.
Going home
I'm not usually one for souvenirs, but this time I made an exception and brought my friends the one thing everyone associates with Rwanda: gorillas.
I'd arrived pretending I had no expectations. In truth, I expected clean streets and a calm city, and I got both. What I didn't expect was to feel so at home in a place where I could barely speak the language, or to leave with a WhatsApp group full of new friends still planning hikes I'd miss.
Kigali is built for digital nomads and anyone looking for somewhere peaceful, clean and safe to settle. As for me, I'll be back. The basketball season is still waiting.