And there was peace...

49 - Kigali International Peace Marathon, Kigali, Rwanda, 20 May 2018

Every second year or so, my family embarks on a great trek to the east. East Africa. Uganda. They say, “wise men from the east”; I say, “beautiful women from the east”. This may be a bit of a stretch, but I know of a "beautiful woman from the East", my wife. We were set to travel to Uganda sometime in 2017, but the Athens Marathon, The Authentic got in the way. Kisoro, the village (even though Agatha will argue that it’s a town) that Agatha comes from, had to give way to the Athens Marathon, The Authentic. We had to delay the trip to Uganda until sometime in 2018. When 2018 arrived, the 100BEFORE40 Asia leg got in the way and we pushed the trip to Uganda to mid-2018.

Postponing the trip to mid-2018 proved to be a brilliant idea in the end. It coincided with the running of the Kigali International Peace Marathon in May. I had read and heard a lot about the 1994 genocide in Rwanda. I had always wanted to travel to Rwanda to get a firsthand experience of the aftermath of the genocide. I wondered if indeed the people of Rwanda had been able to put their differences aside after such atrocities and focus on rebuilding the nation. It’s not as if we are talking about minor differences here and there. The genocide resulted in the deaths of about 800,000 people. All these deaths in a short period of about 100 days. It is not only a story that epitomizes how people can quickly lose respect for humanity. It is also a good example of the evils of colonialism and how the colonialists thrived on dividing and conquering the locals by pitting one ethnic group against the other. It is a topic that I can never pretend to be well informed on, but I can safely say, never again should the World let such madness happen. The Rwanda athletics community, together with the government, is doing its best to ensure that these atrocities are never repeated, hence the Kigali International Peace Marathon. As its name suggests, the marathon is aimed at promoting peace in Rwanda and the World.

After months of planning and excitement, we finally jetted into Kigali on a Friday morning, two days before the race. As soon as we landed in Kigali, I could tell things were different. The Kigali International Airport is not one of the biggest I have been to. It is not one of the smallest I have been to either. However, the low human traffic volumes and quietness gave feeling of people toeing the line in that part of the World. After completing the immigration formalities, we were welcomed to Rwanda. I could not wait for that moment. I was quite excited about collecting my race number and catching a glimpse of the race route. As we drove from the airport into the city, I kept in "eagle eye" on the surroundings, constantly asking our driver all sorts of trivial questions. One of the things that struck me was how clean the streets were. I had heard that Kigali was the cleanest city in Africa at some point, but I did not think it was literally so. There were no traces off trash on the streets or sides of the streets. The last time I had seen streets that clean was earlier in the year, in Osaka, Japan. Back then, I had wondered how they managed to keep the streets that clean (no prizes for guessing what the liter levels in my neighborhood are like). The other thing I noticed was the number of police officers on the streets. There were just too many of them, some were heavily armed. The immediate reaction would have been a sense of fear that something wrong was brewing. I however focused on the brighter side. I viewed this as “visible policing” on steroids and a top-notch crime prevention strategy. From that moment onward, I fell in love with Kigali. I even imagined myself working and living in Kigali – if anyone was desperate enough to give me a job of course.

Settling in Kigali was very easy. Agatha was our chef de mission and chief negotiator for the 100BEFORE40 team as she is fluent in Kinyarwanda. She speaks Rufumbira, a language spoken on the southernmost tip of Uganda. Rufumbira is similar to (some even say it is a dialect of) Kinyarwanda. It was, therefore, was very easy for Agatha to fit in. On the eve of the race we visited the Kigali Genocide Memorial. This was to put things into perspective before the “Peace Marathon.” Listening to the horror stories of the genocide, I realized how the human species can easily turn into savages. I could not believe how some people could have been that cruel and brutalize their fellow human beings. The genocide was a very dark and despicable moment in Rwanda's history. A lot of respect must be given to the people Rwanda who have not tried to bury their heads in the sand and pretend the genocide never happened. They have worked very hard to rebuild the country. There were messages of peace, re-conciliation and re-building the nation almost everywhere we went. 

I spent the rest of Saturday wondering how I was going to manage running up and down the "mountains" of Kigali. I call them mountains because some of them were steep and some very long. I am very indebted to a newly found friend I my met at the Gaborone Marathon in Botswana a week before the Kigali International Peace Marathon. She had warned me about the hills in Kigali and assured me that they did not call Rwanda a "country of a 1000 hills" for nothing. I was to some degree, anxious but, prepared for the hills. We stayed in a hotel that was a stone throw away from the stadium. Therefore, getting to the start on race day was a piece of cake. I was in the stadium about half an hour before the start of the race. By then, the heat was settling down and it promised to be a very hot day. After a bit of a delay of the start of the marathon, there was a countdown and off we went. There were not too many of us running the marathon. I started right at the front and among the elite runners. As soon as we set off, I could tell that I had started right in the middle of the “rabbits” as almost everyone around me sped off. I became worried that by the time I finished the race after four hours, I would probably be the only person on the road. This was a real concern for me as the last time I ran in this region, East Africa, I had been lost after everyone else left me behind. However, as soon as we got out of the stadium and we were on the streets, I realized that there were complete road closures and the route was clearly marked. The roads would remain closed until 12 o’clock pm on that day. This meant the roads would be closed about five hours after we had started the race. I was not planning to spend more than four and a half hours on the road. I therefore told myself to rest assured that I would finish the race before the roads were opened and there are no chances that I would get lost like I did in Kampala some three years before this race.

I went slowly and conservatively during the first half of the race. I really wanted to enjoy the atmosphere and the scenic route. I also wanted to chat to the locals, meet people and possibly make new friends. Going slowly and chatting to other runners was a great idea. The kilometers quickly disappeared and hills slowly trickled past. Before I knew it, I was back at the stadium and had completed a half marathon. By that time my seconding team, “The Three Musketeers”, were still stuck in the hotel wondering if I would survive my first attempt at the hills. The second half of the race was a bit tough though. I had easily cruised past some of the hills during the first half, but they somehow got their revenge and proved to be very tough hills to climb. No surprises there, because that is the nature of marathons. The longer you go, the more difficult they become. As usual, I engaged into my playful self. I started taking pictures and shooting videos for my 100BEFORE40 channel. I also became petty and started observing every little thing around me. This of course was done to keep the mind occupied, divert attention from the fatigue by focusing on something else. I could not help but notice one of the very colorful runners on the course. This gentleman was wearing very colorful socks (happy socks as we call them in SA). To top it all, he was running in his boxers. I couldn’t help but accept that “marathons leave you naked at the end of the day.” This marathon had obviously stripped this gentleman naked. I managed to steal a picture of his happy socks (ok, not really happy socks, but very close) and boxers. I also managed to compliment him in the usual playful runners’ talk, that he was “looking good.” 

Just after passing this gentleman, I ran past a family that was cheering runners on the roadside. They were very excited to see Zimbabwe on the streets of Kigali. They made it clear that they had recognized the colours of my vest with very loud screams of “go Zimbabwe!!!” This was a welcome development compared to the earlier screams I had received from one gentleman. He was very friendly, but just didn’t know what my flag colours were. He gave me a very loud and confident “go Cameroon!!!” Not wanting to be rude, I simply waved back and continued with my run. At least he had kept it in the African continent. I often get “go Jamaica!!!” on the streets of Johannesburg or Pretoria. Rather than thinking this gentleman was ignorant, I found myself wondering if I could recognize the flags of every country around the World. I realized how small my world was as clearly I would not have identified the flag of the Philippines or South Sudan if these flags we placed in front of me. Of course, all this happened not because I was trying to become a walking encyclopedia. It was partly to divert my attention from the pounding on my legs to something else. I must admit that it worked very well. By the time I focused on the business of the day again, running, I had crossed the 32km mark. The countdown was now the single digits. It also dawned on me that while I was thinking of all these things, I had managed to pass almost two thirds of the field that was running the marathon. The arrival of the single digits also brought with it some form of relief that I had climbed the hills of Kigali up and down, and successfully so.

I met up with my seconding team around the 38km mark. I was quite pleased to see the Three Musketeers. They gave me some hydration cocktail  and offered me chocolate. The hydration cocktail was a welcome drink as the water stations on the route were water stations, literally. They only served water and every now and then there were one or two stations that offered some bananas. I had not taken any of the bananas and had relied on my own supplies of “sugar”. After getting hugs and kisses from The Three Musketeers I set off to complete the last four kilometers or so of the race. By that time the heat was coming down heavily and fatigue was slowly setting in. I however kept my eyes on the 4h30 finish and made sure that I stuck it out. There was one lady I had passed many times on the road. She certainly was not going to let the giraffe finish before her. She caught up with me around the 41^st kilometer and gave me a “catch me if you can attitude”. I probably could have sprinted past her, but I knew it was a trap. I chose to take one last walk outside the stadium, preserving some energy for the lap of honor. That lap was almost 400 meters long and I did not want to run out of steam halfway through it, in the full glare of the spectators and my Three Musketeers. You see, the Three Musketeers believe that I am superhuman to be able to run as many marathons as I do. I wasn’t going to risk demystifying that belief by walking right in front of them, in the stadium for that matter. I just would not travel all the way to Kigali to embarrass them or disappoint them. After a few yards walking, I set off and entered the stadium head up, looking very proud of my achievement. I crossed the finish line some 4 hours, 29 minutes, and some change. That was it. Marathon 16 of AtLeast18MarathonsFor2018 had fallen, or should I say the 100BEFORE40 train had knocked marathon number 16 down.

Despite completing marathon 16 of AtLeast18MarathonsFor2018 in Kigali as the East Africa edition, I could not resist the craving three days later in Kisoro. I went on a solo expedition and called that solo expedition marathon 16A, Boda (to) Boda Marathon. I was transported to the border between Uganda and Rwanda on a Boda Boda and ran from there to the border between Uganda and the Democratic Republic of Congo during that marathon (42,2 kilometers). I returned from the trip as a very happy customer. I managed to complete my 16th official marathon for the year and an unofficial marathon during the same trip.

And as you, or should by, now know - if it’s not on Facebook it did not happen. I documented my Kigali International Peace Marathon on Facebook as follows:

#100BEFORE40 
Marathon16ofAtLeast18MarathonsFor2018, Kigali International Peace Marathon, fully loaded💪💪💪. Thanks to the people of Kigali for being patient with us the back runners. I did not see any Boda Boda trying to get on the road or run over the runners👌👌👌👌Beautiful and very clean city. Beautiful route too. If it weren’t for the hills, mountains actually, I would have said the route is gorgeous😜. I didn’t quite understand the Yellow Sea. Almost everyone was wearing the yellow vest that was in the goodie bag. I almost went back to the hotel to wear mine😂😂 Then there were those super keen runners who sprinted for 500 meters, by the second kilometer they were finished, running on empty tanks, or were naked - literally🙊🙊🙊 I enjoyed myself though. Kigali you are great, but the 100BEFORE40 train has to keep moving🚂🚂🚂🏃🏿‍♂️