Hope Azeda is running a bit behind for our phone interview, but to make up for it, she sends me a link to a dialogue she had with Jackie Lumbasi a few weeks ago. In the video, she opens up about her childhood journey and how it molded her into the revered woman she is today: a key player in Rwanda’s art scene, who is equal parts perfervid and humble. Born and raised in Western Uganda, as a refugee, she was intent on proving for herself, and she did, rising over the next decades to successfully use art as a tool to bring about social change.
The daughter of a midwife, Azeda traces her inclination towards using art for healing and community-building to her upbringing. Her family was constantly on the move because of the harassment faced by Rwandan refugees back then. What’s interesting is that wherever they ended up, there was always a hospital, a school, and a church nearby – these three elements were seemingly inseparable. “So as a child,” Azeda recalls, “I’d often find myself singing with the choir or messing around with the instruments in one of these places.”
But what truly solidified her entry into the world of arts was her time at Namasagali College in Eastern Uganda. The priest in charge of the boarding school was insistent that everyone participate in extracurricular activities related to the arts. “Whether it was dance, theater, or music, every student had to be involved in something for at least an hour every day,” Azeda recounted to Lumbasi. In response, she chose to take up dancing.
Later, when she enrolled at Makerere University to study Theatre for Development over two decades ago, she caught the attention of the director of the National Office of Information of Rwanda during a performance for Impact International at the National Theatre.
The director, who was visiting Kampala at the time, approached Azeda and urged her to “start this theater in Rwanda.” Azeda hesitated, she was not ready; “I was like, ‘But how? My Kinyarwanda is horrible. I don’t speak French’,” she said. “And then he replied, ‘Whenever you’re done with your studies and all this, come look for me. I’ll help you start.’”
After finishing university, she went back to Rwanda and sought out the director. Just like that, his guidance kick-started Azeda’s first play in 2000 — a production called The Firestones of Sehut Sitwa about Rwanda and its reconciliation journey.
“That’s why I always tell people, never be afraid to start. Regardless of where you begin, as long as your heart is invested, you’ll get wherever you have to go,” Azeda advised, sharing this wisdom once she joined the phone call and apologized for the delay.
She said that from the time she produced that play, she began reaching out to various sponsors and managed to secure two million francs. At the time, she said, this was a substantial amount of money, which she used for costumes, banners, and publicity for the play.
“Before I knew it, it was a big hit in town,” Azeda quipped. “The play was held at St. Paul, with tickets priced at RWF2,500 francs, and that’s how Mashirika [Performing Arts Center] was born in this country.”
Reflecting on those early days of leading Mashirika, Azeda talked about obstacles related to her gender. Among her team members, she was often referred to as “umukobwa” (which means girl in Kinyarwanda). “They always changed things without even consulting me,” she said, describing how her large cast would deviate from the script and direction she had provided. “So, when I assigned them tasks to work in small groups within the next two hours, they would rearrange the groups and change things, causing each group to come back with different ideas. It completely scrambled my brain,” she explained, sounding frustrated.
The tension eased thanks to Azeda asserting herself, even though “some team members were old enough to be her father.” She told them firmly: “A script is like a contract. What’s on the script cannot be changed just because you feel like changing it.”
But perhaps the most striking achievement of Azeda’s career is the establishment of the Ubumuntu Arts Festival in 2015, an expansion of Mashirika’s impact to draw international artists and audiences to Rwandan stages, inviting them to use art as a means to celebrate humanity and drive social transformation.
It was at the recommendation of Chantal Rosette Rugamba, the former Deputy CEO of the Rwanda Development Board (RDB) in charge of tourism at the time, that Azeda submitted her project proposal to the African Leadership Initiative. The legacy-driven project, she said, was centered on making a meaningful impact on communities.
To create this festival, Azeda drew inspiration from the challenging realities of her childhood in Western Uganda as a Rwandan refugee. Conjuring on the suffering she witnessed among her fellow compatriots and the impact of the Genocide Against the Tutsi, she channeled these experiences through artists whom she came to know personally and interacted with.
“As I kept looking at the Kigali Genocide Memorial’s amphitheater, I felt compelled to share its stories,” said Azeda, “We must breathe life into these testimonies to highlight that genocide is not confined to Rwanda—it’s a global threat that can impact any community if we don’t learn from history.”
“This festival is designed to help us reflect and take an introspective journey as humans, to assess ourselves and see who we are. Do we have what it takes to be humane? Are we embracing the values of humanity?” Azeda continued, explaining the purpose of Ubumuntu. In less than a decade of running the festival, she has gathered participants from over 30 countries, staged 50 performances, and welcomed 13,000 attendees from around the world. “When you consider the sad background of the memorial, which represents a tragic history, I felt it was necessary to create an international platform for arts and humanity at the Kigali Genocide Memorial’s Amphitheatre.”
Over a few years, Azeda developed a small following, and within a short span, she met Ruwanthie De Chakra in Durban, who became her first international collaborator from Sri Lanka. Together, they worked on a play called “Dear Children Sincerely,” which remains Azeda’s favorite collaboration to this day. Soon after, she found herself with artists from all continents, lined up performances, and a waiting list of collaborators and institutions eager to work with her. Even now, this both excites and perplexes her. “I’ve come to believe that art is an encounter, and so is life. The nature of the festival, the intersection of Arts and Humanity, sets it apart from a commercial space. Everyone wants to contribute, everyone.” That’s how she chooses to rationalize it.
Azeda, to me and many who have witnessed her work, is undoubtedly a great artist, which makes it somewhat surprising to see how much she questions herself. When I asked her about her proudest achievement, her response left me puzzled. Despite being only recently published in Her Story, Rwandan Women Changemakers, Azeda answered, “I’m not proud of any achievements because what may seem like achievements to others only makes me feel like there’s still more to do. While it’s true that people have embraced and consistently supported the festival, which is something to be proud of, I can’t help but feel that success only opens the door to more challenges.”
Azeda’s Ubumuntu Arts Festival is approaching a retrospective 10-year anniversary in about four months.
“Ten is the number of perfection or completion of God’s divine order,” Azeda, a devout Christian, remarked, seeing it as a confirmation of completion. She believes it signifies that they are on the right track, stressing the need to keep moving forward and to take the time to celebrate a decade of impact.
Simultaneously, the commemoration of the Genocide Against the Tutsi is reaching 30 years, and the Kigali Genocide Memorial is turning 20.
Performers will once again experience the grit, exhaustion, and fatigue of their craft. They will laugh, concentrate intently, and perhaps even release their frustration by tossing props or breaking down emotionally as they confront the injustices they encounter in their daily lives. It will require sheer determination to see it through. Their passion, inner strength, and dedication to push past their limits will pave the way for healing.
To facilitate this healing, Azeda said that she has shed her director’s cape and abandoned labels. She describes her leadership at Ubumuntu as one that prioritizes honest listening, explaining that there is no leadership without listening.
“The goal is to keep growing, to keep expanding, to make our space a small global village – sharing, learning, exchanging,” Azeda added. “I want to make sure there are many ‘Hopes’ being created so that I’m not just the only Hope here in my way of being. ”
