In Bugesera, something unexpected caught my attention: water.
To many people, Bugesera brings to mind sunshine, heat, and dry landscapes. Water is probably not the first thing people think of when the district is mentioned. Yet, during my exploration, rivers and lakes gradually moved to the center of my attention.
It began with a bridge.
Whenever I crossed the bridge from Kicukiro into Bugesera on the highway, I knew I was entering a different landscape. But it was only after writing my first story about the district that I began looking at the river beneath that bridge differently.
A reader from the Karumuna area, near the Akagera River, pointed out that I had made a mistake. I had referred to that stretch of water as the Nyabarongo. He explained that the Nyabarongo ends at its confluence with the Akanyaru River, somewhere in Ntarama Sector. From there, the river becomes the Akagera, continuing toward Lake Rweru at the border with Burundi.
That correction sent me looking for the confluence.
I went to see where the Nyabarongo and Akanyaru meet and traced the beginning of the Akagera. I became curious about what happens along the river as it makes its way through Bugesera. At different points, I saw how its water is used for domestic and industrial purposes. I saw its importance to farming and the life that exists around it.
Then I began noticing something else: a cluster of lakes. Mirayi, Rumira, Kidogo, Cyohoha, Rweru, and others.
How were these lakes formed?
Why are so many of them found in this part of the country?
What would Bugesera be like without its rivers and lakes? Would people have settled here in the same way? Would the district be habitable without them?
I don't have the answers. I wasn't conducting scientific research. I was simply sightseeing, following my curiosity and allowing the landscape to lead me to the next question.
Even my journey out of Bugesera gave me another opportunity to reconnect with a river. When I rode toward Nyanza, I crossed the Akanyaru farther upstream. It felt good to meet the river again, having already encountered it at its lower end near the confluence. I was beginning to see these rivers not simply as things to cross, but as waterways with journeys and stories of their own.
Then there was the human side of the equation.
At Bugesera Lake Resort, I saw how the lakes are beginning to stimulate tourism. But tourism is only part of a much bigger transformation. Bugesera is attracting new residents, homeowners, and real estate development on a remarkable scale. It is striking to think that a place with such a difficult history has become a place where people increasingly want to live, visit, and invest.
In its own way, Bugesera's transformation reflects Rwanda's broader journey: refusing to let a painful past determine the future.
But I kept coming back to the water.
What does this network of rivers and lakes mean for the environment? How much does it contribute to livelihoods? What economic opportunities could it create? And how much more is there to discover?
To me, rivers and lakes are magical creations. They are wonders worth pondering. They are gifts that keep giving. They provide water, support farming, sustain life, shape landscapes, and create opportunities for tourism.
My exploration of Bugesera left me looking at them differently.
I went there as a tourist. I left with questions.
And those questions became an important part of Bugesera: Through the Eyes of a Domestic Tourist, where the district's rivers and lakes feature prominently.