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. Then, of course, I made the “mistake” of hitting play on my 1990s R&B and hip-hop playlist.
When it comes to music, I’m permanently stuck in the 90s. Proudly so. You can lecture me all day about new genres and rising stars. Just let the opening beat of an old-school jam hit my ears, and suddenly I’m invincible.
So there I was, running along the track hugging Kigali Golf Resort & Villas. That green carpet seemed to whisper, “Bro, you better run today.” Before I knew it, my legs were gliding. Two kilometers became three. Three became four. Then five. The most effortless 5K ever. It was fun. The infrastructure helped. The music definitely helped.
Every few meters, I exchanged high fives with familiar faces. The track was alive. Old men were taking easy strolls. Middle-aged folks were negotiating with their knees. Teenagers were sprinting for no apparent reason. Kids had one mission: outrun their parents.
Between strides, I stole a few glances at the golfers across the fence. They swung with the confidence of people who clearly woke up on the right side of life. On the other side, massive real estate projects were rising like mushrooms. I have been noticing this everywhere in Kigali lately. The skyline has become a hive of construction activity.
When I finally wrapped up the run, I collapsed onto a bench next to the young lady I had come to the green carpet with. She had intended to be my running companion, but she couldn't keep up with my pace. To her credit, though, she was the one who motivated me to run in the first place.
As we cooled off on that bench, trading jokes and catching our breath, I realized this had become more than a workout. It was fresh air, good music, familiar faces, and a little Sunday magic, all wrapped into one.