An unlikely convert: Finding devotion in the smell of coffee

I don’t drink coffee, but the aroma at Gorilla Highlands Coffee was nothing short of heavenly.

What drew me in wasn’t the cup; it was the story. Rugaya’s passion is impossible to ignore.

When he speaks about coffee, his eyes light up, his voice carries conviction, and suddenly coffee ceases to be a product. It becomes identity, heritage, and purpose.

Listening to him, you feel the deep respect he holds for the land, the farmers, and every single bean grown in these highlands. You realize that this is not just about commerce, it is about stewardship, memory, and pride.

For the first time, I truly experienced coffee. I inhaled aromas I never imagined, soft vanilla notes, hints of banana juice, layers of sweetness and warmth. It amazed me how a scent alone could tell such a rich, complex story. 

Without tasting a single drop, I understood why coffee inspires devotion across the world. In that moment, coffee became language, speaking quietly but confidently of where it comes from and who nurtures it.

As I walked through the doors of Gorilla Highlands, Mount Muhabura stood proudly in the distance. The sight sent chills through my body. Majestic and unbothered by time, the mountain felt like a silent witness to generations of life, labor, and resilience. 

In that moment, everything felt connected, the mountain, the coffee, the people, and the passion behind it all. Nature and human effort were in conversation, each shaping the other.

This is the magic of Kisoro District. Nestled in the Kigezi highlands of southwestern Uganda, Kisoro is a place where the land speaks loudly. Its rolling hills, volcanic soils, cool temperatures, and misty mornings create not just breathtaking scenery, but ideal conditions for growing exceptional coffee. Here, agriculture is not an abstract economic activity; it is woven into daily life.

Families rise with the sun, tend their gardens with care, and pass down knowledge from one generation to the next.

Kisoro’s people are deeply connected to their land. Farming is both survival and identity. Coffee, in particular, has become a symbol of hope and transformation. 

Smallholder farmers many cultivating just a few acres, pour their labor into every harvest. Each bean is handpicked, sorted, and processed with attention that reflects both skill and respect for quality. Through initiatives like Gorilla Highlands Coffee, these farmers are not only accessing better markets but also reclaiming ownership of their narrative.

Gorilla Highlands Coffee stands out because it honors origin. It does not erase the farmer behind the product; it amplifies them. The brand speaks proudly of Kigezi, of Kisoro, of volcanic soils and high altitudes.

It invites the world to taste place, to experience coffee that is inseparable from its environment. This approach transforms coffee into cultural expression, carrying the voices of rural communities far beyond Uganda’s borders.

Kisoro itself is a district of stories. Bordering Rwanda and the Democratic Republic of Congo, it is a crossroads of cultures and histories. It is also home to some of the most iconic landscapes in the country, including the Virunga volcanoes and the nearby mountain gorilla habitats that draw visitors from across the globe.

Tourism, agriculture, and conservation intersect here, reminding us that development works best when people and nature thrive together.

As I travel from Kisoro to Kampala, I will always carry coffee with me—not for myself, but for my friends. 

Each packet feels like a message from home, wrapped in aroma and meaning. I imagine them opening it, breathing in those same notes of sweetness and warmth, and unknowingly stepping into the hills of Kigezi.

Through this coffee, they will meet Kisoro. They will encounter its farmers, its fertile soils, its cool mornings, and its enduring spirit.

Kisoro coffee is not just coffee. It tells the story of Kigezi of resilient communities, rich volcanic earth, and a people who understand the value of patience and care. It is a reminder that some of the most powerful stories are not shouted; they rise gently, like aroma, filling the space and staying with you long after you’ve left.