Dear Mom, 

I know you’re busy thinking about CorpsAfrica/Rwanda’s future, but allow me to jump in and interrupt. 

Mom, in the book of Inkuru Ya 30, I saw you. I saw your footprints and I would like you to know what I am feeling inside right now. In late 1987, thanks for waking up and standing. Thanks for realizing that heroism is not about trending in the titles of the papers, but about becoming a shining star in a scary night. 

Although cash, caché, and kasho were out of your hands, you kept projecting the future of Rwanda. I confess that I’m sending my Coup de Chapeau to the Women’s Wing. Thanks for being a part of Women’s Wing, a mat made of culture for women to breastfeed both milk and patriotism in the mouths of their children, letting Rwanda flow into the breast milk. 

Mom, they said, you and your colleagues weighed less compared to Impara and Imparage in Akagera, and that the glass is already full of water. Thanks for clearly understanding that the Liberation Trail was real, not just a slogan. 

Ku gasantimetero? Mom, I know you were there in the middle of such ratified operations, and you were there when the gunshots sounded like melodies. And hey, I have heard about the Yanki and that you were a part of it too. That has blown away my mind. Did you know that I saw your bedroom ku Mulindi wa Byumba? I did, and I am glad. They even told me that you know all those unconventional methods from the Z-option to the Heavy Punches and that you exactly know how they worked better than conventional ones towards your success.

Mom, thanks for being passionate about volunteering, not from 1987 to 2000, but from when you were born up to the present. I love the way you mold people into volunteers, raise them, and empower them, not because you have time, but because you have heart.

Mom, I salute,

Coup de Chapeau.