Ubuntu Ride 2026: Celebrating a Decade of Brotherhood and Adventure
Photo by Benjamin Manzi
As planned, we gathered at our point of departure in the morning—9:30 a.m., to be specific. Excitement was in the air, and so was the easy camaraderie that always seems to precede an exhilarating ride.
Some faces were familiar, others brand new, but the mood was the same across the board—easy, warm, expectant. This wasn’t just another Sunday ride. This was Ubuntu Ride, marking ten years of riding together and building a community fueled by unity on and off the road.
The day itself felt like an unspoken endorsement of the ride. The sun was out, unfiltered and generous, casting an easy warmth that settled nerves and lifted spirits. Skies were clear, the air light—exactly the kind of weather that nudges you out of the house and onto the road without hesitation. It felt less like good luck and more like nature quietly lending its blessing, setting the stage for everything that was about to unfold.
By the time engines roared again, the group had grown impressively large. Seventy-eight bikers showed up, some riding with pillions, turning the convoy into a long, flowing ribbon of thrill-seekers on two wheels. Ahead, the line stretched confidently down the road; in the mirrors, headlamps flickered in near-perfect sync, creating a rearview spectacle just as captivating. For a moment, the road felt like it belonged to us.
This wasn’t just another Sunday ride. This was Ubuntu Ride, marking ten years of riding together and building a community fueled by unity on and off the road.
Across Africa—similar Ubuntu rides were taking place, all commemorating a decade of shared roads, shared values, and shared humanity. Ubuntu: I am because we are. On days like this, the phrase feels less philosophical and more practical.
With Nemba as our destination—the border with Burundi drawing us steadily south—we eased into the ride knowing patience would be required early on. From Gahanga through a string of busy settlements, including the ever-bustling Nyamata town, progress was measured, the road shared with everyday life unfolding on all sides. The break at Lujo Motel came right on time. It was a chance to stretch, regroup, and for some of us, satisfy a growing need for caffeine.
Beyond Lujo, everything changed. The road opened up, speed limits relaxed across most stretches, and the highway stretched ahead wide and inviting—less like a road through villages, more like an airport runway daring us to take off.
The second break came right at the edge of it all—Nemba, where the road meets the border. A quick photo session followed, complemented by refreshments supplied by J & O Guest House. And then, in true Ubuntu spirit, we did what felt only natural—we knocked on Burundi’s door. Knock, knock. Just a friendly hello from the other side. The border remained closed, of course, but the gesture was playful, symbolic, and full of good humor—proof that even when borders are shut, curiosity and connection still find a way to show up.
The second break came right at the edge of it all—Nemba, where the road meets the border. A quick photo session followed, complemented by cold drinks and easy smiles from a nearby roadside hospitality spot.
The ride back to Lujo Motel was unhurried, almost contemplative, as if the road itself knew we had already checked an important box. Sitting down together over lunch and drinks was not a side note to the event—it was a vital part of it. These shared tables are where conversations deepen, laughter flows freely, and riders connect beyond helmets and engines. It’s in moments like these that lifelong, brotherly bonds are forged, reflecting the very essence of Ubuntu: a reminder that the ride matters, but the people you share it with matter even more.
As the afternoon wore on and engines eventually cooled, what lingered was a quiet sense of fulfillment. The Ubuntu Ride had once again done what it set out to do—bring people together, not just within our own convoy, but across borders and across the continent, riding in spirit alongside fellow bikers marking the same moment elsewhere in Africa. Ten years on, the essence remains unchanged: shared roads, shared stories, and a community bound by something deeper than machines. Long after the last helmet was set down, that sense of togetherness stayed with us, rolling on well beyond the day’s final mile.