What I have learned about Rwanda’s corporate sector did not come from theory or glossy reports. It came from countless conversations, personal encounters, and the testimonies of humiliations that many Rwandan entrepreneurs, artists, and workers endure every single day.
I speak for myself here. Others may have a different perspective, but after years of observing the way our corporate sector operates, I see patterns that are impossible to ignore.
Executives operate under systems; compliance, procurement policies, reporting lines, risk management frameworks, budget cuts, CAPEX, and all the other jargons they come up with.
Yes. They are judged by boards and shareholders, most of whom sit in foreign capitals. That much is true.
But context matters.
Most of Rwanda’s large corporates are foreign-owned, except a few, not even a dozen.
They make billions of francs in profits every year, and almost all of it is expatriated. What they re-invest here is a fraction; carefully measured, tightly controlled, and often inconsistent.
Meanwhile, SMEs, which employ the bulk of Rwanda’s youth, are left starved. In starving them, corporates are starving the very soil they depend on.
We in the media are first hand witnesses. Year in, year out, corporates hold press conferences and invite dozens of journalists to announce their quarterly financials. Banks, telecoms, insurance companies, and other major players, post obscene profits; compared to the size of the economy. How do you make Rwf5-10 billion profit in 90 days in a US$15 billion economy?
Do you know what’s insane? Ask Taarifa, Inyarwanda, The New Times, Igihe, RBA, TV1, TV10, Royal FM, Kiss FM, etc, all of us, we receive almost nothing in advertising. Just a fraction of the billions in profits. Most of us don’t even get a penny.
These mafias are savages. They crave freebies. Coverage without compensation. Visibility without value. Read carefully between the lines: they crave publicity, expect endless coverage, but unwilling to pay for the channels that amplify their messages.
These firms are shamelessly tightfisted when it comes to supporting media growth, often hiding behind claims of budget cuts.
Let me substantiate.
For example, banks spend minimally on media for financial literacy or new promotion of new products (cosmetic ones) because their highest margins come from a handful of clients and government borrowing.
Telecoms rely on free content created by local talent to drive data consumption; knowing everyone consumes it anyway. They don’t pay content creators. Zero. They won’t even place advertisement on their platforms. Pure savagery maniacs.
Hotels host conferences and workshops, and they are happy with that, even if no local client comes for dinner or lunch. Not at all. For them, feeding a curated few is all good. You know why? Because there is huge margins from government summits, conferences etc. They won’t pay to promote local or retail consumption, concerts, artists, bands, curators, or reviewers.
Logistics, transport, fintech, manufacturing; all sectors echo the same story.
But here is a fatal blow. Local SMEs deliver services and goods on time, are forced to submit EBM invoices, and wait months for payment. RRA penalties pile up, cash flows dry up, livelihoods crumble. Natural deaths recorded, and that’s how they cause miscarriages of SMEs.
And there is this tendency these firms swoop in under the guise of “quality delivery,” only to subcontract local SMEs at a fraction of the fee. Extraction layered upon extraction.
In other economies, philanthropy is core, equally important as value proposition and product offerings. But here, it is twisted.
Why do I say this? Let’s consider Imbuto Foundation, arguably the biggest philanthropic organization in Rwanda, outsources the bulk of its support abroad.
Local brands contribute to institutions like Imbuto, token sums, often only because it is associated with the First Lady. They offer the token to save face.
And DJ Briane, a young woman supporting street children, dropping proposal after proposal, faces rejection after rejection, and eventually gives up out of sheer fatigue. Meanwhile, corporates applaud themselves for “community engagement.”
We know the real agents of change are left behind.
Walk into the headquarters of most banks, insurance companies, telecoms, and hotels. Imported furniture, imported décor, imported everything.
Meanwhile, local carpenters and designers producing world-class work cannot even get a foot in the door.
Construction workers baking in the sun earn peanuts, barely enough to feed their families.
Security guards earn Rwf50,000 a month. Cleaning staff earn even less. No benefits, nothing. These are parents scraping to feed and educate their children while executives sip coffee in boardrooms with imported furniture, claiming CSR and empowerment.
This greed extends to creatives and entrepreneurs. Artists, musicians, content creators, photographers, designers, and furniture makers wait months for payments promised in contracts or are paid sums that barely cover production costs.
Entrepreneurs risk loans to deliver corporate orders, only to wait for months before their payments are settled while penalties accumulate. And yet, these same corporates turn around and highlight their “support” for Rwanda’s growth and development, as if crumbs equal contribution.
Ironically, the heaviest lifting in Rwanda’s economy is done by the government.
Government spending drives the bulk of the economy; infrastructure investment such as Kigali Convention Centre, Arena, new hospitals, Kigali Ring Road, energy projects, and government procurement for financial services, huge borrowing from local banks, buying insurance, buying telecom services.
They profit from government spending and infrastructure, yet fail to reinvest meaningfully in the local economy.
To be fair, their presence is not without value. They build infrastructure, pay taxes, create jobs, and provide critical services. Their investments have contributed to Rwanda’s remarkable growth. Roads, hospitals, schools, power lines, and digital platforms; this country has achieved what many thought impossible.
But growth measured only in GDP does not capture the full picture. The extraction of value from SMEs, the neglect of local talent, the outsourcing of philanthropy; all of it erodes the future of Rwanda.
It starves innovation, stifles entrepreneurship, and diminishes the very social fabric that allows a nation to thrive.
If they earn billions from our society and leverage government projects, they should, at the very least, give back meaningfully, let’s say funding cancer research, support public awareness, strengthen civil society, invest robustly in startups, local innovators, and creators, startup hubs, and so on.
These investments help absorb unemployed youth, strengthen local industries, and create a sustainable ecosystem for future growth.
Rwanda’s corporates are greedy. That’s my point. They are predatory. And worse of all, they suffer from what I told one CEO; corporate arrogance.
How else would you explain underpaying, delaying payments, outsourcing simple services abroad, and expatriating almost every penny.
They boast of CSR but give crumbs. They speak of empowerment but trade in exploitation. They thrive on the patience of SMEs, the hunger of artists, and the silence of the public.
True corporate success is not measured by billions expatriated abroad. It is measured by lives transformed here, communities strengthened here, SMEs paid fairly here, workers treated with dignity here. Anything less is not just greed. It is betrayal.
In one word, all that described here is capitalism to the core, and we are not ripe for such an economy.
Not now.
