It’s a cloudy Monday morning here in Kigali. I am riding around the city, feeling its heartbeat and capturing the spirit of its inhabitants. At some point, it starts drizzling a little bit. I stop by Rubia Coffee Roasters at Kabindi junction, in Kimihurura Sector, for yet another coffee break.
It is my first time here. Wait a minute, it seems like I have been here before. My device has connected to Rubia’s Wi-Fi without asking for a password. Inside the cafe, tables are occupied by racially diverse customers.
Most of these esteemed customers are busy working while sipping coffee. They are glued to the bright screens of their laptops. Some of them are in important meetings. They speak the language of money. Dollar signs are written all over them. Phone calls are made in an assortment of languages but American English and Kinyarwanda are the commonest languages here.
While waiting for my coffee, I look around and see bookshelves inside the cafe. I walk towards the shelves and pick a random book. The book I have just picked is A Voice From Old New York by Louis Auchingloss. It is a memoir of the author’s youth. In the book, Auchincloss pens down a detailed account of the good old days he spent in New York while painting a picture of the city that is completely different from its modern self.
I would love to read something about the destination I am touring. I go back to the shelves hoping to see a book about Nyabarongo River or the nobility of cattle in the Rwandan society. I can’t find anything about Rwagasabo.
I am not complaining though. A Voice From Old New York is an interesting story. I will probably spend the rest of the day here because it’s hard to put down a good book before turning the last page. What started as a short coffee break is likely to be a long date with a publication from the other side of the Atlantic. Lunch, supper and everything in between will probably be consumed here.