Can We Play Too?

Truth, Strength, and the Right to Belong

During the evening of July 4th, 2025, at the Kwibohora31 celebrations, our President delivered a striking message. In a tone that blended resolve and frustration, he asked a question that pierced deeper than politics: “What has Rwanda done to deserve being targeted by the whole world? Why Rwanda?”

Why is a small country that once stood alone in its darkest hour now questioned when it stands with pride? Why is its right to self-protection seen as arrogance? Why is strength from the small perceived as a threat?

Earlier this same year, a very different but equally powerful question was asked — this time by a young boy to his father during the commemoration week of the 1994 Genocide against the Tutsi: “Dad, tell me the truth… These people you call Hutus, did they just wake up one morning and decide to start killing you, even though you had done nothing wrong?”

This child wasn’t accusing. He was trying to understand. Like many children, he sensed there was pain behind the silence, but not the full story. And like many parents, the father realized the challenge of teaching truth without planting seeds of hate.

Somewhere between these two questions — from the President and the child — lies the same deeper cry: “What did we do to deserve this?”

While reflecting on these puzzling questions, I was reminded of an episode from “La Chronique de Mamane” — a satirical radio series on RFI. In one episode, Mamane imagines the world as a school playground. On this playground, the “big boys” — the Vladimir, Shin Zin Pin, Barrack, Emmanuel — set the rules. They decide who plays, who sits out, and what counts as “playing fair.” If you dare to play without their permission, that alone is seen as a problem. Even when you do ask, the rules shift without warning. The whistle only blows when they decide.

But let’s pause here. Forget geopolitics for a moment. This isn’t just about nations. It’s about individuals — about you and me.

Every person is born with the right to play, to participate, to grow, to contribute. But the world won’t always let you. You may be underestimated, excluded, or judged unfairly — not because of what you’ve done, but simply because of who you are or where you come from. And if you dare to play without the permission of those who claim the right to set the rules, they may try to stop you, by all means, even killing you, as history has shown.

So what should you do?

- Wait for permission?

- Bow to those who set unfair rules?

- Hope someone eventually sees your worth?

NO. YOU PLAY. 

Not because they let you, but because you’ve earned your place.

- You study.

- You build your skills.

- You develop your competence.

- You deliver results that no one can deny.

The world may not be fair, but it respects strength. When you are excellent, they won’t just allow you to play — they’ll invite you. They’ll copy your moves. They’ll respect you, not out of kindness, but because they have no choice.

Final Lesson

- Don’t wait for permission to matter.

- Don’t let the “big players” define your limits.

- You deserve to play. So be so good they can’t ignore you.

That is how nations rise. That is how individuals succeed. Strength built on competence is the best form of liberation.

In every country, in every company, the greatest resource is its people — its human capital. Each person strengthens that capital not through titles or connections, but through honest, productive work. The right to participate — to play — must be earned through contribution, not claimed through entitlement. So build yourself. Excel at what you do. Because when you're truly competent, you don’t need to ask for permission. You are your own permission.