November 2025 KIGALI – We arrived at the BK Arena to find the show already in full swing, the air electric with the sound of drums and a crowd of 7,000. It was November 22, the Feast of Saint Cecilia, the patron saint of musicians, and the City of Kigali was holding a vast celebration of Rwandan tradition called Dutarame Kigali. We had missed the official opening by Kigali’s Mayor and the early performances from local community groups. The five-hour marathon was a masterclass in cultural vitality, but its immortal soul would arrive later, in two unscripted minutes that none of us will forget.
We caught 2025’s music sensation, Boukuru, mid-set. With stunning visuals behind her, dressed in an all-white elegant ensemble by Maison Munezero, her structural Amasunzu hairstyle completed a look of pure intention. Her voice, a powerful instrument that moved from deep resonance to crystal clarity, carried the clear echoes of her bigggest vocal inspirations, the runs of Mariah Carey, the soulful power of Whitney Houston, all filtered through the foundational grace of Rwandan greats like Cécile Kayirebwa and Kamaliza. She held the stage with a calm authority, fully connecting with every corner of the audience.
Then Teta Diana stepped onto the stage as a living symbol, barefoot, with thick short braids pulled back, a little golden dress shimmering under the lights. She carried an Inkoni (cane) and Agacuma (calabash), a microphone in the other hand, the very definition of demure power incarnate. Her voice, tender yet controlled, felt like a reminder that heritage is not nostalgia; it is a pulse still beating.
From there, he fused seamlessly into a warrior display, introducing the 25-strong Ibihame Cy’Imana dancers before exiting in a whirlwind of Intore energy. Amakondera horns, Ingoma drums, shouts, kwivuga, organised chaos on stage, mesmerising. A saxophone unexpectedly floated slick jazz licks over the thunder.
Veterans held their ground with masterful ease. Jules Sentore, charisma and emotional precision embodied, moved effortlessly between pop-inflected passages, Afro-modern arrangements, and the deep resonance of classic Gakondo phrasing. Soon joined by two dozen dancers dressed in elegant black, his set unfolded like fluid, unmistakably Rwandan theatre.
Massamba stepped off the stage, walked toward the front row, and began singing, a cappella, Inyange Muhorakeye, one of his "big sister in arts" most beloved songs. Cécile Kayirebwa seated between her younger sister and the legendary Muyango joined in, Massamba pulled up a chair, sat before her, and together they created a moment of pure Umucyo.
As the Justin Bieber viral moment articulates well “It didn't clock”. The announcement of Dutarame Kigali on the same date, however, offered a meaningful alternative for honoring the St Cecilia day. Following frenzy behind-the-scenes work simply to ensure she could safely attend the event, the City of Kigali and the production team, citing an unfortunate oversight, stepped in on the final day with VIP tickets and protocol assistance. Yet here, in this vast arena, the culture itself had course-corrected. Dutarame Kigali, perhaps inadvertently, ultimately provided the stage for the most fitting tribute of all, a raw, unrehearsed tribute that no formal ceremony could ever hope to replicate.
