The question of who will finally bring an end to the long-standing “Bwenge naguhenze, kibuye nagukubise” tensions within Rwanda’s Gospel music industry has resurfaced with renewed urgency. As the country grapples with tangible erosion in its farmlands, where over 745,000 hectares are lost annually to soil degradation according to recent studies by the Rwanda Water Resources Board and IUCN, a quieter but equally damaging erosion continues within Gospel music. Talent, trust, and unity are gradually wearing away, not through a single dramatic collapse, but through small cracks left unattended.
Erosion, as many environmental experts remind us, does not begin with a storm. It starts with neglect. The same pattern appears to be unfolding in Rwanda’s Gospel industry, where misunderstandings, pride, and unspoken resentments are slowly weakening what was once a powerful spiritual and cultural movement.
The phrase “Bwenge naguhenze, kibuye nagukubise” comes from a traditional Rwandan legend about a husband and wife trapped in mutual deceit. The husband secretly ate food alone, while the wife retaliated by throwing a stone that struck him while he worked in the fields. Instead of resolving the conflict privately, both later sang mockingly about their actions, publicly confessing betrayal while refusing reconciliation. Over time, the story became a metaphor for hypocrisy, hidden conflicts, and unresolved grudges.
Today, that parable mirrors the reality inside Rwanda’s Gospel scene. Artists smile together on stage while harboring resentment backstage. Collaborations are announced publicly but rejected privately. Unity is preached loudly, yet rarely practiced consistently.
The depth of this challenge became evident during a recent Gospel concert at BK Arena, where two veteran journalists seated nearby shared a candid conversation. Their discussion reflected frustration that has grown quietly among those who have observed the industry for decades. According to them, the Gospel community is increasingly fragmented by jealousy, rivalry, and superficial alliances that collapse when tested.
One of the most persistent problems is the absence of genuine respect among Gospel musicians themselves. Senior artists, despite benefiting from national recognition and loyal audiences, sometimes dismiss emerging or equally established colleagues. Stories circulate of musicians requesting collaborations only to be told they are “not on the same level,” even when both artists command similar followings and influence. Such responses, observers argue, have little to do with artistic quality and more to do with ego and fear of competition.
Another concern involves the commercialization of collaboration. Some artists reportedly demand excessive fees for joint projects, transforming what should be a shared ministry into a transactional contest. While professionalism deserves fair compensation, critics argue that the Gospel mission becomes diluted when financial dominance replaces spiritual purpose.
Journalists also point to a growing culture of selective compassion. One media professional recalled supporting a pastor and Gospel artist consistently, only to be ignored completely after falling ill and being hospitalized. Another described inviting a well-known worship artist to his wedding, only to be declined on the assumption that the invitation carried financial expectations. Such moments reveal how mistrust has replaced simple human connection.
Behind the scenes, tensions extend beyond artists. Certain producers are accused of deliberately sabotaging projects by delivering poor-quality work when an artist is perceived as a rival to their preferred clients. In more troubling allegations, some musicians are said to pay journalists to suppress the airplay of other Gospel artists. These practices, if true, contradict the very values Gospel music is meant to represent truth, love, and mutual upliftment.
Yet amid the disappointment, signs of renewal are beginning to emerge. A growing number of artists and media figures have started speaking openly about the damage caused by silent rivalries. Veteran broadcaster Justin Belis has consistently called on Gospel musicians, church leaders, and media houses to support one another instead of operating in isolation. His message emphasizes that spiritual influence loses power when unity is sacrificed.
Renowned Gospel artist Aline Gahongayire has also addressed the issue publicly, challenging dishonesty and encouraging transparency within the industry. Her willingness to confront uncomfortable truths has resonated with many who had previously chosen silence.
Among the strongest symbols of change is Israel Mbonyi, whose actions have sparked renewed optimism across the Gospel community. Rather than merely speaking about unity, Mbonyi has demonstrated it consistently. His social media platforms have become spaces for promoting fellow artists’ concerts, ministries, and projects without discrimination.
Screenshots shared widely online show Mbonyi promoting four major Gospel events in a single day, an unprecedented move among Rwandan worship leaders. These included Richard Ngendahayo’s “Niwe Healing,” Alarm Ministries’ “Iyo Niyo Data,” Alexis Dusabe’s upcoming “Umuyoboro25,” alongside his own “Icyambu4.”
Beyond online support, Mbonyi has physically attended fellow artists’ concerts, standing in crowds not as a headliner but as a supporter. Those close to him say his journey has not been without personal wounds, but that he chose growth over bitterness and leadership over rivalry. By doing so, he has redefined influence within the Gospel space.
This shift is slowly changing the atmosphere at Gospel events, where collaboration between artists and media is becoming more visible. Shared stages, mutual promotion, and respectful dialogue are increasing, though not yet universal.
Church leaders and religious institutions, however, remain central to sustaining this progress. Observers argue that reconciliation within Gospel music cannot thrive without consistent guidance from churches, which serve as both spiritual authorities and cultural anchors. Teaching unity from pulpits while tolerating division backstage weakens credibility.
The lingering question remains unavoidable: who will truly end this long season of silent conflict? Many believe Israel Mbonyi’s example offers a blueprint rooted in humility, generosity, and consistency. But no single individual can restore an entire industry alone.
True transformation will require artists, pastors, producers, journalists, and fans to embrace a shared mission that prioritizes purpose over pride. Only then can Rwanda’s Gospel industry move decisively from erosion to restoration, from hidden fractures to visible healing.
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