Ndere Centre Saga: Is our heritage on the verge of extinction?

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In 1984, while working as a teacher, Steven Rwangyezi couldn't shake his love for the arts. He wanted more than just to teach; he wanted to nurture a generation of cultural artists. And so, Ndere Troupe was born, starting with a group of eager students from Lubiri Secondary School.

The name "Ndere" means flute—a symbol of beauty and versatility. The flute, much like the troupe, could express a vast range of emotions, from sorrow to joy, love to loneliness.

Fast forward to today, and Ndere Troupe is a cultural powerhouse, recognised worldwide. Their performances are not just entertainment—they’re a vibrant celebration of Uganda’s diverse heritage, performed with authenticity and heart.

 ▪️ Speakers close conference with after-party at Ndere Cultural Centre

A path leading to the main exit from Ndere Cultural Centre. (Photo by Colleb Mugume)

The troupe’s shows, like Sherehe on Wednesdays, Ndere Fridays, and the lively Katika Sundays, have captivated audiences, bringing Uganda’s cultural traditions to life with local instruments, traditional attire, and dance moves from all 56 of Uganda’s ethnic tribes.

Yet, behind the scenes, trouble was brewing. Rwangyezi had a dream—a dream that led him down a path paved with good intentions but fraught with unforeseen challenges.

Today, the heart of Ndere beats with the heavy drum of despair. The very place that has immortalised Uganda’s cultural treasures which had given so much joy to so many, now faces a grim reality. It now stands on the brink of collapse, caught in the relentless grip of debt.

 ▪️ Ndere Centre Ready For Cultural Explosion

Ndere's Auditorium. (Photo by Colleb Mugume)

Uganda Development Bank (UDB), eager to recover its money, has issued a chilling notice: pay the debt, or the assets of Ndere will be confiscated and sold in the next 30 days.

News of the impending sale hit the public like a tonne of bricks. How could it be that the very heart of our cultural identity might be auctioned off to the highest bidder?

The prospect of the Ndere Centre—this haven of culture and history—being dismantled and auctioned off is nothing short of heartbreaking. The thought alone is unbearable.

It is a reminder of how fragile our cultural institutions are, especially in the face of unforeseen challenges like the Covid-19 pandemic.

Debt trap

"The underlying reason behind borrowing this money was motivated by two factors," Rwangyezi said with a weight of regret evident in his voice.

"One: the sustainability of the Ndere philosophy. Up to now, Ndere has survived because I, as Rwangyezi, have been there to find funds—whether it was in agriculture, as a teacher, or even as a coffee trader," he added.

Rwangyezi's vision was to create a self-sustaining institution that could continue to thrive even in his absence. He wanted to transform Ndere Centre into an institute where the people he had taught could become the teachers or the professors, passing down Uganda’s rich cultural traditions to future generations.

He saw an opportunity to blend culture with business. And to build a place that would not only teach and perform but also generate income to support the education and cultural activities close to his heart.

 ▪️ Ndere centre, where African culture is very alive

Dr. Stephen Rwangyezi, the Executive Director and Founder of Ndere Cultural Centre drumming at Ndere Cultural Centre. (Photo by Colleb Mugume)

"My economic studies at Makerere University helped me see where we were going," he said.

"Before COVID-19 hit, we were doing three shows a week, drawing between 100 to 150 people per show—mostly foreign tourists. I wanted to create a business that would be self-sustaining and use the profits to run our cultural activities," he added.

The dream

Rwangyezi's plan was ambitious: to build unique structures, modern interpretations of African architecture, and establish an institute that would document, research, and teach Uganda’s indigenous civilisations. He envisioned a place where the next generation could study and practice Ugandan food, music, dance, fashion, and more.

A place where every professor wasn’t just a teacher but a practitioner, deeply involved in the research and preservation of Uganda’s culture.

But building this dream required money—a lot of it. So, Ndere Centre took out a loan of sh6.8b in December 2019. The plan was clear: finish construction within two years, start operating, and let the cash flow back in. What could go wrong?

The nightmare

Then, the world changed in ways no one could have predicted. COVID-19, the invisible enemy, struck with a vengeance, bringing the globe to a standstill. Then, without warning, came lockdowns and restrictions. And the stages silenced.

For two years, the drums at Ndere Cultural Centre were quiet. The dancers, who once leapt and twirled in the air, were grounded. The tourists who once filled the seats with awe and admiration stayed away. The vibrant centre that once echoed with laughter and song was reduced to a ghost of its former self.

The timing couldn’t have been worse. The construction sites in Kisoro and Bbira were miles away, and with the lockdown, supervision became impossible.

"You find that they’ve completely messed it up," he said with a pang of frustration clear in his voice.

"You tear it down and start afresh," he added.

But the pandemic didn’t just affect the construction—it brought Ndere Centre to a standstill.

"Ndere Centre and Ndere Troupe closed," Rwangyezi said.

"In two years because of the lockdown, this place became a total bush. All the artists I had in Ndere left—people I had been with for over 20 years. I even toyed with the idea of closing Ndere Centre down," he added.

By the time the world began to recover, Ndere Centre was in ruins. The lush gardens were overgrown, the buildings crumbling, and the equipment that had once brought Uganda’s traditions to life was broken beyond repair.

"I did not know that if you switch off the fridge for a long time, the thing dies," Rwangyezi said.

The fight to survive

Despite these monumental challenges, Rwangyezi refused to give up. He poured what little resources he had left into reviving Ndere Centre. He renovated the grounds, trained a new troupe of performers, and slowly began to rebuild the Centre’s reputation.

"We started in January 2023, and in the whole month, only 70 people came. But by the end of 2023, we had 19,130 people coming to see us," Rwangyezi said.

But even as the Centre began to recover, the debt loomed large. The initial sh6.8b loan had ballooned to sh10.5b.

Rwangyezi pleaded with the bank for leniency, asking for more time to finish the constructions and to restructure the loan.  But the debt trap had crept into the country’s store of heritage.

With interest and penalties piling up, foreclosure triggered in. Now, the only hope left, Rwangyezi said, is the cry for help.

“There are three things we are asking for. One: Can the government waive this loan? Can they bail us out like they have bailed out others? If that’s not possible, can the government partner with us? They have the private-public partnership; they could take shares and co-own this institute. If those two are not possible, can they ask UDB, a government bank, to give us time, and we’ll look for ways to pay?" Rwangyezi said.

Cultural, heritage lifeline

Ndere Cultural Centre, senior citizens said, is not just bricks and mortar and more than just a tourist attraction; it is the soul of our nation. And souls are not sold—they are cherished, protected, and fought for.

Some of the cottages for the guests. (Photo by Colleb Mugume)

The Centre, senior citizens added, has not only been a place of entertainment but also a guardian of our traditions, a place where the old meets the new, and where Uganda’s diverse cultures are woven together in a tapestry of dance, song, and story making it one of the leading cultural tourism centers in East and Central Africa.

To lose it would be to lose a part of ourselves.

It is a place where the dance moves from Uganda’s fifty-six ethnic tribes are preserved and passed down, ensuring that the nation’s cultural legacy continues to thrive.

The dances performed here are a meticulously designed cultural experience that immerses visitors in the daily lives of ancient Uganda. Their dances are exclusively African, performed with local instruments like drums and adorned in traditional cultural wear.

These performances are more than entertainment; they are a vivid celebration of Uganda’s diverse heritage and a powerful tool for educating the masses on pressing societal issues.

Fridays are dedicated to letting loose, with lively night parties that serve up the latest hits and tasty party appetizers. Wednesdays are a celebration of African culture through dance, poetry, and sumptuous cuisine, featuring performances like the Mwaga Imbalu initiation dance from the Bagisu, the Amagunjju Buganda royal dance, the Ekitaguriro dance from Ankole, the Larakaraka Acholi courtship dance, the Orunyege dance, the Tamena dance from Busoga, and many others.

The Ndere Centre is also a vital training ground for young people aspiring to start their own dance troupes.

So, in the eyes of Rwangyezi, Ndere Centre’s survival is not just about saving a business; it’s about preserving Uganda’s soul that spins Uganda’s cultural identity.

And like one senior citizen said, let’s not allow the final curtain to fall on Ndere Centre. Let’s ensure that the dancers’ feet continue to pound the earth, that the drums continue to echo across Kampala, and that the spirit of Uganda lives on, stronger than ever.

The drums at Ndere Cultural Centre are crying for help in the face of a cultural and heritage extinction threat.