George Baguma
24 Jun
24Jun

In 2018, I had several trips to Rusizi District in Rwanda's Western Province. During one of the most memorable visits, I enjoyed a boating experience around the southern flank of Lake Kivu.

As our boat cruised across the calm waters, we made a stop at Gihaya Island, a small community whose way of life is deeply connected to the lake. It was there that I met members of Noza Ubukorikori, a women's cooperative whose resilience, resourcefulness, and enduring bond with Lake Kivu left a lasting impression on me.

The women welcomed me with genuine warmth, making me feel at home from the moment I stepped onto the island. Our conversations provided a fascinating introduction to the cooperative and the diverse activities that sustain its members.

These hardworking women start their day before sunrise. Armed with paddles and years of experience on the lake, they set off in small wooden canoes to meet fishermen returning from their overnight expeditions. After purchasing the day's catch directly from them, they transport the fish to local markets, where it is sold to consumers.

Fish trading, however, is not the only activity they engage in. The cooperative has embraced several income-generating ventures, demonstrating remarkable resourcefulness. The members are also traditional dancers who perform for tourists, sharing their culture while earning additional income.

In addition, they weave baskets and produce a variety of handicrafts. These products not only showcase local craftsmanship but also provide visitors with meaningful souvenirs that reflect the identity of the community.

What impressed me most was their confidence on the water. Propelling a wooden canoe across the lake is no easy feat, yet the women did so with remarkable grace and precision. Their paddling strokes seemed effortless as they glided across the lake. Watching them maneuver their canoes was a reminder that true mastery often disguises the effort behind it.

Inspired by their skill, I accepted an invitation to try canoeing myself. Under the guidance of my hosts, I learned the basics of paddling and spent a few minutes putting my newly acquired skills to the test. It didn't take long to realize that what had looked so easy from a distance demanded far more balance, coordination, and technique than I had imagined.

Looking back, my stop on Gihaya Island was far more than a break in a boating excursion. It was an opportunity to meet proctive women who have built their livelihoods around the lake. Encounters like these remind me that travel is often less about the places we visit and more about the people whose stories give those places their character. Eight years down the line, Gihaya Island remains one of my fondest memories of Rusizi.