Rwanda: Rising from the Ashes

RISING FROM THE ASHES

Published in b.Inspired (Brussels Airlines inflight magazine), March 2020

To mark International Women’s Day this month, we meet a group of female artists in Rwanda reviving – and modernising – imigongo, a traditional art form that mixes cow dung with ash.

Words Mandi Keighran Photography Aron Klein

I’m sitting at a table in a small craft studio staring hesitantly at a lump of cow dung mixed with ash and a small timber board. I sniff at the mixture – which thankfully has nothing more than a slightly grassy scent – then pick a piece off and pinch it between my thumb and forefinger, pressing it onto the wood. As I pinch and press the paste-like mixture, carefully following the lines of a pattern marked out in pencil, a raised geometric design slowly emerges. When I finish, it will be left to dry and then painted using distinctive black, white and earth red pigment. This is the art of imigongo and I’m taking part in a workshop at Azizi Life Studio in Kigali, the capital city of Rwanda.

While these boldly patterned sculptures might appear strikingly contemporary, the traditional Rwandan art form can be traced back to the late 18th century. It was introduced by Prince Kakira – the son of King Kimenyi of Gisaka-Imigongo, in the south-eastern region of Kibungo – to decorate the walls of the prince’s home. The technique of applying the cow dung mixture directly to walls was soon adopted by local women and became widespread across the region as a decorative feature in homes.

“These workshops are our most popular,” says Chantal Musabyimana, project manager of Azizi Life, a studio and boutique that runs various workshops led by local craftspeople. “Imigongo can only be found in Rwanda. You can find other crafts – like weaving and carving – across Africa, but not this. People love that it’s unique. They also love that it’s made out of cow dung but it becomes something beautiful.”

While imigongo has been around for over a century, it wasn’t until 1987 that it made its way off the walls of homes and onto portable panels that could be hung as artwork – and bought as souvenirs. It was at this time that a group of seven teenage girls, led by 17-year-old Bazirice Uwamariya, founded the Kakira Cooperative to revive interest in the traditional art. “Through neglect and adopting other cultures, our imigongo art was facing extinction,” says Uwamariya. “Instead of painting the whole wall of the house with the designs, we made small pieces that could be hung on the wall. They are beautiful traditional paintings that also fit in with modern interiors.”

I meet with Uwamariya one morning at the Made-in-Rwanda expo in Kigali, an annual event supporting local manufacturing and crafts. She shows me pieces of work created by the Kakira Cooperative, most of which are based on Prince Kakira’s original patterns, which took inspiration from everyday 18th century Rwandan life – such as a spiral pattern that represents an elephant’s trunk, or a repeating diamond pattern that is based on the form of a traditional serving dish.

More surprising are a number of pieces done in a style first developed by the Kakira Cooperative and a visiting Belgian priest in the early 2000s. The flattened perspective and vibrant pinks, oranges and greens – which Uwamariya tells me are all still created using natural pigments – are unreservedly contemporary yet undeniably Rwandan, with designs based on the way these women perceive their world. One depicts a traditional home, the different spaces all folded together in pleasingly abstract form; another shows local instruments, including drums and a stringed icyembe; and yet another is based on the country’s famous intore (warrior) dancers, with shields and a mane-like headdress known as umugara.

Uwamariya finishes showing me the cooperative’s work, and together we depart on a day trip to the Kakira Cooperative in Nyakarambi of Kirehe District in the Eastern Province, about a three-hour drive from Kigali, to discover how this work is made. As we drive through the lush landscape, she tells me her story.

Born in 1971, Uwamariya’s early years were spent living in a traditional Rwandan home with decorative imigongo adorning the walls. As she grew up, her family moved into a more modern house, and she could see interest in the art had begun to wane as western-style housing became more popular.

“I learned these techniques from my aunt, and thought, ‘If we are not using it, we should preserve it’,” she says. “So, I began the Kakira Cooperative to continue the culture of imigongo and pass the skills down to the younger generations.” As the group began to produce works based on the original patterns popularised by Prince Kakira, interest in imigongo began to grow.

Then, in 1994, the Rwandan genocide devastated the country, and in the ensuing chaos the art form was on the brink of disappearing. Uwamariya and one of her colleagues were the only two survivors from the Kakira Cooperative – and were now widowed. Together, they reformed the group in 1996, reestablishing the collective with eight other war widows in the Kirehe District.

“We came together as a way of helping one another,” says Uwamariya. “Working together after the tragedy helped us to feel less alone. It was a way of healing and supporting each other. Fortunately, people also liked the work and it began to sell. Before all this, we saw imigongo as a way to decorate our homes – we didn’t appreciate its commercial potential.”

Success for the reformed cooperative came quickly. As the country stabilised, the government supported the group through the Ministry of Culture, and Uwamariya and her colleagues have travelled and exhibited across Rwanda and as far afield as Kenya, France, Belgium, and Germany. Today, the artwork is a symbol of the country – the distinctive patterns found everywhere from boutique hotels, restaurants, and souvenir stores to decorative building facades and advertising billboards.

This commercial potential has had big implications for the women who are members of the cooperative, allowing them to earn a stable income from the sale of works to galleries and boutiques in Rwanda and abroad. Many have even built their own homes while others have also been able to fund a university education for their children.

Beyond the financial rewards, it is the act of preserving the centuries-old art of imigongo that drives the Kakira Cooperative. While the members don’t run workshops for the public, they do train young women – many of whom are orphans and could not otherwise afford tuition fees. “We are teaching the younger generation as a way of not letting this art form disappear and get forgotten,” says Uwamariya. “But it requires talent, skill and precision to make good imigongo. Today, there are many imigongo cooperatives imitating our style – but our clients notice the difference between our work and the work of imitators.”

After a long but picturesque drive, we arrive at a collection of low-slung buildings housing a studio and gallery space. Uwamariya introduces us to the women and they are soon demonstrating how imigongo is made. Their speed and precision in comparison to my earlier attempts at Azizi Life Studio quickly put into perspective just how talented and experienced these artists are.

We learn that the mixture is made using the dung of calves, which is softer and has a smoother texture than grown cows as they only drink milk, and watch as the women demonstrate how the deep, velvety black pigment is made using the sap of aloe leaves, while the red and white pigment is created using earth from different regions of Rwanda.

It soon becomes apparent that this is a cooperative in the true sense of the word – there is no single artist for each piece. One woman might draw the design, another will apply the mixture, and another will paint the work once dry.

In front of the studio is a small round, otherwise nondescript building. Uwamariya opens the door to reveal the dazzling interior of a recreated traditional Rwandan hut. Despite having had this kind of interior described to me during the drive over, it’s more spectacular than anything I could have imagined. Each wall is covered in a different imigongo pattern from floor to ceiling and the effect is something akin to the “dazzle” camouflage used during WWI.

After seeing how imigongo was used in the past, we continue on to a local church, where Uwamariya is a leader, to discover how the art has been adapted for contemporary use. Here, a collection of around 20 small panels depicts the Passion of Christ using imigongo painted in vibrant, primary colours. Looking at these works, there is no doubt that the women of the Kakira Cooperative have taken a traditional art form and made it their own.

“I am very proud to be the founder of this cooperative,” says Uwamariya. “I’m excited to see how the government is supporting it. At first, it was mainly tourists that were interested in our work but local interest has been growing over the past decade and it has become a real trend in Rwanda again. That makes me very happy as it is preserving an important part of our culture.”