Dorcy Rugamba

Every year, Dorcy Rugamba returns to his family's home in Kigali. Ivy still climbs up the walls, calla lilies and firetongues grow on the terrace, the palm tree and the papaya tree are still there at the entrance, as well as Mount Jali to the north, and Mount Kigali to the south. His return was, however, impossible for many years. In this book, both love letter to those that are no longer there, and a hymn to life, part of the cult of the ancestors, Dorcy Rugamba addresses his father, mother, and all those who are absent. He speaks of what he saw and what he learned from them, as a child and young man, and the time it took him to accept the unacceptable. He remains as close as possible to those who are absent, honours their memory and lives, and explores the world of before in search of its beauty and poetry. He then asks himself: how can we translate into words what is out of our reach? Dorcy Rugamba, writer and major figure of the Rwandan cultural scene, brings us this moving account, carried along by writing, and a voice, of rare intensity.