It had been a while. April was the last time I laced up for a proper hike, and the body had noticed. So when the Bumbogo Trail came up on the calendar, the timing felt right for more than one reason. The Kigali Peace Marathon was approaching, and I needed to shake the rust off, get the legs moving again, and remind myself what sustained effort actually feels like. This was less a casual Saturday morning and more an honest piece of preparation.
The meeting point was somewhere I did not expect: Inyuguti Art Hub in Kimironko. The tagline above the entrance reads “The Art of Truth, Where Art Finds Its Voice” and it means it. The gallery brings together artists from Rwanda and across East Africa, anchored in realism rather than abstraction, work that looks you in the eye and does not let go. Before a single step of trail had been taken, we were standing in front of paintings that demanded attention. A woman pouring milk in a posture of offering and release. A figure in red seated quietly against a stormy urban backdrop. Dot-work panels depicting African spiritual imagery with extraordinary precision.
It was an unusual and genuinely excellent way to begin a hike. The kind of cultural detour that makes you think before you sweat. Once everyone had taken in a few pieces, we moved to the garden outside for warm-up stretches in the morning sun, then fell into line and started moving through the streets of Kimironko, a long column of people in activewear weaving out of the city and toward the hills.
Bumbogo holds a personal significance. It was the first place I lived when I arrived in Kigali. These streets and hills are familiar in a way that goes beyond recognition, they carry memory. Walking back through them with a group of people, seeing the neighbourhood from the trail rather than from daily routine, felt like visiting an old version of yourself. Different vantage point. Same hills.
The trail itself was exactly what was needed. Red dirt underfoot, eucalyptus trees flanking the path, the familiar Kigali combination of green vegetation and terracotta earth. The group spread out naturally as the incline increased, some pushing ahead, some finding their own pace, everyone moving. From the top, the usual reward: Kigali rolling out across the valley in every direction under a deep blue sky and big white clouds. The kind of view that makes you remember why you bother getting up early on a weekend.
New faces on this one. That is always one of the quiet pleasures of community hikes, the people you end up walking beside for an hour and then properly meeting at the top. A mix of regulars and first-timers, everyone carrying the same shared goal of moving and being outside.
We were out from around nine and back by noon, one o’clock. The return to the Inyuguti garden was everything a post-hike moment should be: everyone scattered across the lawn on bean bags and porch steps, shoes off, drinks in hand, the conversation loose and easy. Stretches followed, then introductions, a small ritual that turns a group of strangers into something closer to a community.
As marathon prep goes, it did the job. The legs remembered what they were for. The lungs got a reminder. And Bumbogo, as always, delivered.