My name is Nyramara, my name is Rwandan, as I was born in Rwanda in 1992 to an Italian father and a Rwandan mother. This mix obviously had to have some sort affect my personality, as those of you who follow my blog will know. My nomadic spirit, my impulsion to discover and my curiosity have taken me on trips to many different countries by myself, allowing me to involve myself with, and learn about, many wonderful cultures from around the world!
Being born in 1992 in Rwanda meant that I would soon have to leave my homeland. As many of you will know, the country was silently and inexorably preparing for one of the bloodiest genocides of the 1900s. Although I was completely unaware of what was about to happen, I was saved by my father, who’s unparalleled fatherly instinct, with smiles and hugs, cuddles and laughter, despite everything, allowed me to live in a fairytale in which we travelled the world. A wonderful African fairytale, a fairytale that after leaving Rwanda, took us to all of Subequatorial Africa, from Kenya’s beaches, to Tanzania and Mozambique, seeing villages and the vast forests of Uganda, to Burundi and the wonderful cities of South Africa, filling me with wonder and confusion of the different cultures, languages, traits, colours and smells. I never knew what language to speak, but nonetheless, it was all beautiful and full of wonder. The first few years of my life I grew up like this, bare feet, between the beautiful cities and the marvellous natural world.
One very hot morning in August of 1998, my mother and I were woken up by two, rather embarrassed but anxious, police officers (both for the beautiful woman that they had in front of them and for the little girl that was with her), who ask us to go to the station with them. My memories, even if vague, bring me back to a large room with a desk, with an elderly gentleman sat behind it, who asked us to sit down. This was the first time that I felt lost, and I will never forget it. The silence was deafening, my mother coudln’t understand what was happening and started asking questions as to why we were there. His answer was a simple gesture to his assistant, who briskly and coldly led me out of the room. As soon as that door closed, my life changed.