It was one of those beautiful, sunny mornings when the city feels like it woke up before you and is politely waiting for you to catch up. I laced up for a simple workout — nothing ambitious, just a quick 2-kilometer run. But then, of course, I made the “mistake” of hitting play on my playlist of 1990s R&B and hip-hop.
Look, when it comes to music, I’m permanently stuck in the 90s — and proudly so. You can lecture me all day about new genres and rising stars, but just let the opening beat of an old-school jam hit my ears, and suddenly I’m invincible.
So there I was, running on the track hugging Kigali Golf Resort & Villas — that green carpet that whispers “bro, you better run today.” Before I knew it, the legs were gliding. Two kilometers became three. Three became four. And then five. The most effortless 5-km run ever. It was fun, thanks to the infrastructure and the music.
Every few meters, I exchanged high fives with familiar faces. The track was alive — old men taking easy strolls, middle-aged folks trying to negotiate with their knees, teenagers sprinting for no reason at all, and kids whose only mission is to outrun their parents.
Between strides, I’d steal a glance at the golfers across the fence, swinging with the confidence of people who clearly woke up on the right side of life. On the opposite side, massive real estate projects were rising like mushrooms — a trend I’ve noticed everywhere in Kigali these days. The skyline has become a hive of construction activity.
When I finally wrapped up the run, I collapsed on a bench next to the young lady I had come to the green carpet with. She had intended to be my running companion, but couldn't keep up with my pace. To her credit, she’s the one who motivated me to run.
As we cooled off on that bench, trading jokes and catching our breath, I realized this run had turned into more than a mere workout. It was fresh air, good music, familiar faces, and a little Sunday magic wrapped into one.