Physical Address
Kigali, Rwanda
Gasabo, Kimironko
Physical Address
Kigali, Rwanda
Gasabo, Kimironko

Iâm sitting at Java House, Kigali Heights, minding my business and sipping my cup of spicy tea as my throat constricts against the evening breeze.
On the ground below me, workers are setting up tents for the UCI cycling competition. The city is buzzing with excitement and preparations.
Yet, as I watch them, I canât help but feel nostalgic. Less than a year ago, this very space told a completely different story.
What is now concrete paving used to be a lush garden with a famous fountain that used to be called âUmugore ufashe umwanaâ, which roughly translates to the woman who held a child, at its heart.

The garden wasnât just a carpet of grass for aesthetics.
It was a gathering place, a spot where life happened and memories formed.
On weekends, youâd find families spread out having snacks as their kids ran playfully across the lawns. Couples started their new chapters by freezing their memorable weddings in the beautiful garden.
Tourists would sit quietly on the benches in the garden to admire the Kigali Convention Center.
Even younger people would come to âshare teaâ about their lives here, and so much laughter, cries, and all the emotions were imprinted in that space.
It was one of those rare spots where everyone found a reason to belong in this busy city that has no time for anyone.
For me, the garden wasnât just beautiful. It was personal.
My family often visited on lazy Sunday afternoons. Parents relaxed, aunties like me chased the kids around the neatly pruned Duranta erecta aka Golden Dewdrop hedges, and laughter filled the air.

On most evenings when I felt tired and needed to clear my head, I would take slow walks from my home to Kigali heights just to see how lively the garden was. I also have a thing for water so it was an all-round bliss being there.
The garden was alive. It was an escape for the poetic minds, and a zen space for the exhausted.
I glance over the balcony again, and what is left is a concrete plaza.
The beautiful fountain of a woman carrying a child no longer takes center stage. The benches no longer host whispered conversations. The air no longer carries the scent of fresh laughter from kids running.
What Iâm looking at now is functionality in a mechanical light. A flat space designed for events that will generate the country a monetary benefit.
But with that function, I canât help but feel the quiet erasure of memory it came with.
Why am I even writing this piece?
“The best part of cities is the people and the moments they make in them. Lose them and you lose a part of the cityâs soul.”
Cities are not just built with concrete, brick, glasses, and plastered with paint. The best part of cities is the people and the moments they make in them.
Public spaces are where strangers become neighbors, where children learn to share and play together, where people find belonging in a world full of chaos, and where community begins.

Think of New Yorkâs Central Park. Or Nairobiâs Uhuru Park. Or even Kigaliâs Car-Free Zone. These places are not just pretty vanity designs with pretty landscaping. They are social equalizers.
Lose them and you lose a part of the cityâs soul.
Kigali is a fast growing city. Development is very necessary for us these days. So events like the UCI cycling competition happening here is such a huge opportunity for us for global recognition and economic growth.
But we canât ignore the elephant in the room: how do we balance progression without compromising preservation?
So many other cities face this dilemma too. The Uhuru Park in Nairobi nearly gave way to highways to the Nairobi Expressway project that threatened to encroach upon the park.
“First life, then spaces, then buildings-the other way around never works”
~Jan Gehl
Some cities regret the loss of their green public spaces, while others fight fiercely to protect them.
The real question here is: where will Kigali stand?
Cities grow and change, itâs part of the evolution system. The loss of the KCC roundabout garden isnât the end of the story. It can be our lesson.
Instead of erasing green spaces, cities can design flexible ones. Instead of destroying a working public space for temporary events, we can look for alternatives that can host those events while staying true to their essence.
We can integrate greenery into plazas, design rooftop parks, prioritize shading in new trees, or even come up with aerial transport systems, but the latter is a conversation for another day.
A city doesnât have to choose between economic events and emotional heritage. With a little bit of creativity, it can have both.
As an aspiring architect, I think about this so often.
My dream is to design spaces that breathe. Places where children can run, couples can celebrate, strangers can share quiet moments of peace, and most importantly inclusive spaces that do not discriminate or leave anyone behind.
I believe in the philosophy that public spaces arenât just about beauty, they are about belonging.
And Kigali, just like any other city, deserves spaces that tell stories for generations to come.
So I return back to my cup of tea, still warm in my hands, watching the tents rise. The competition will come and go, and yes it will leave something behind, but the memories of the garden already feel like history.
And I sit here wondering: what kind of stories will the next generation inherit from our cities?
Iâd love to hear from you. What public space, or any other cherished space, do you remember from your childhood? Is it still there today?
Share it in the comments. Because our cities arenât just built by architects or planners, they are built by the memories we choose to keep alive!
I used to go there for late night ice cream walks, and I canât believe itâs no longer there. This is such an important conversation to have.
I know, we have to keep these conversations alive so that in the future designers can involve communities and hear their thoughts before taking such huge decisions!
This is a great piece Benitha, I hope we get to embrace development while preserving our culture and keeping these memories.
I donât have a specific public space from my childhood, perhaps because Nyamirambo is always free to everyone, if that makes sense. However, a perfect example from Nyamirambo is how even though they renovated it with a car free zone, it is tailored to the culture of people from there.
Thank you! I really love how the car freezone in Nyamirambo did not take away from the identity of the place and instead blended in! If we were to ttake more approaches like that we could have public spaces that people can get attached to and actually want to use!
I like and strongly believe the idea that, âA city doesnât have to choose between economic events and emotional heritage. With a little bit of creativity, it can have both.â And anyone else who cares about the cityâs soul should agree with that too!!
True, true! And in my humble opinion that should be everybody especially those who have an impact on that happening.
Designing public spaces for memories would make Kigali go next level in the tourism aspect and also boost the serotonin levels for the residents. This just reminded me the place i lived back in the days and there were lots of greenery and fruit trees beside pavements and now whenever i pass by, itâs just new constructions with less and less trees. It no longer feels as communal as it used to beđ I believe development and intentional public design can exist together
You’re right, development and intentional public space design can exist together! We just need to understand that at the core of public space design we should have the public before anything else, and to also remember the importance of those spaces.
The phrase âfunctionality in mechanical lightâ captures this so well, I almost criedđ„Č. I actually did my undergrad capstone on this very issue, and it was basically just how important it is to preserve our green spaces or at the very least integrate them into the buildings and infrastructure we create. In psychology, green spaces are widely recognized as natural regulators of emotions and nerves. And in a culture where going to therapy is often dismissed or even stigmatized with labels like warasaze, ecotherapy( the nature walks, or just sitting and soaking in nature) becomes a first line of support where healing doesnât require a professional or even another person, but simply time in nature.
I’m so glad to hear how that touched you, and I would love to learn more about your capstone project!!! I’m thinking of writing about healing architecture in the future too, especially in the sense of public spaces that can help in healing without it costing an arm and a leg, lol.