Another Rumour, Paul Kagame is Seriously Ill
It’s Season 4 of the “Kagame Is Dead” rumours, and like the previous three instalments, the suspense is high, the cast is familiar, and the script is getting more outrageous with each act.
For over a week now, President Paul Kagame has not been seen in public, fuelling speculation that the long-serving Rwandan leader may be gravely ill or even dead.
Unlike neighbouring South Sudan, where the presidency swiftly quashes death hoaxes about Salva Kiir, the Rwandan establishment at Village Urugwiro has once again chosen silence—a gesture many now read as calculated, if not contemptuous.
There has been no official denial or comment from the government.
This isn’t new. Kagame’s invisibility has previously triggered regional gossip, most memorably in January 2014, when wild reports about his death gripped media outlets and social networks.
A fake Facebook post was said to have started the rumour, but it quickly caught fire, with Rwandan exiles and hostile Congolese citizens carrying coffins in mock funerals.
As an editor in Kigali back then, I handled stories from the presidency. The mood inside the establishment didn’t support the fevered speculation. Yet, outside, even relatively informed agitators like the Kampala-based blogger Tom Voltaire Okwalinga (TVO) believed they had confirmed Kagame’s death. His argument was simple: you can’t hide the death of a sitting head of state.
Kagame later appeared at a military event and quipped about his rumoured demise. That humour, however, has not returned this time—at least not yet.
The last time Kagame was publicly active was on June 6, 2025, when he posted Eid al-Adha greetings on X. Days before that, he had wrapped up a state visit to Algeria, touring the National School of Artificial Intelligence in Algiers. Since then—nothing.
The vacuum has emboldened his critics and turned cyberspace into a theatre of speculation.
Himbara Unleashed
David Himbara, Kagame’s former economic advisor turned fierce critic in exile, has dominated the rumour mill with a series of biting blog posts. Once an insider at the highest level—principal private secretary and later head of strategy in Kagame’s presidency—Himbara now brands Rwanda a “ridiculous” state where “a head of state disappears and no explanation is given.”
“Rwanda is a joke,” he writes, adding that Prime Minister Édouard Ngirente is a mere figurehead, while cabinet affairs minister Ines Mpambara allegedly answers to First Lady Jeanette Kagame.
According to Himbara, Jeanette is today’s Kanjogera—the scheming power behind the throne.
To cap his disdain for Kagame’s Kigali, Himbara penned a deeply sarcastic open letter wishing Kagame a “speedy recovery,” signing off as a concerned former strategist despite “past battles” marked by “state violence” against him.
But Himbara’s core message isn’t sentimentality—it’s succession. In his assessment, Rwanda is on autopilot, and the man most likely to be parachuted in to stabilise the regime is Donald Kaberuka, the former finance minister and ex-AfDB president, now running the Kigali-based advisory outfit SouthBridge.
To Himbara, Kaberuka is more than a potential technocratic successor; he is Kagame’s long-time enabler and financial fixer. From helping launder Congo’s looted resources during Rwanda’s DR Congo incursions, to allegedly siphoning off donor aid, Himbara paints Kaberuka as the regime’s go-to man for credibility and cover.
He goes as far as suggesting Kagame could “engineer a coup against himself” to reintroduce Kaberuka as a stabilising force.
From Epitaphs to Deepfakes
While Rwanda’s silent corridors hum with mystery, its neighbours—particularly the Congolese—are not holding back.
In Goma and Bukavu, online platforms are littered with satirical eulogies, memes, and mock obituaries for the Rwandan leader. Some are celebratory, others conspiratorial, a few bitterly poetic.
Simon Pierre Gahamanyi, a Rwandan exile and well-known anti-Kigali voice, has spun the tale even further. In his version, Kagame died long ago, replaced by a body double, complete with high-tech voice synthesis.
He claims Kagame’s daughter Ange once harboured presidential ambitions but was sidelined by infighting after her father’s alleged passing.
Gahamanyi asserts that Rwanda’s ruling elite, too fractured and paranoid to trust a successor, chose collective rule—keeping their positions but abandoning the idea of an official presidency.
In this shadowy drama, Ange married hastily when it became clear her father was dying, her dreams of statecraft dashed.
“The Kagame you see is a double,” he says. “The generals are all killers. Each fears the other. That’s why there’s no new president.”
He also suggests that the regime may fake Kagame’s death—or resurrection—to avoid political concessions under pressure from US President Donald Trump, who is reportedly pushing for Rwanda’s withdrawal from eastern Congo.
A Distraction or a Deception?
Roger Rachidi, a Congolese political commentator, sees the Kagame death rumours not as truth or hoax, but as manipulation.
He argues that the Rwandan regime itself may be fanning the speculation to derail recent diplomatic gains between Kinshasa and Washington, including pressure to withdraw Rwandan troops and M23 affiliates from Congolese territory.
“It’s a smokescreen,” he says. “The regime is orchestrating false rumours to stall diplomatic pressure and sabotage DRC-USA progress.”
In this reading, Rwanda’s silence isn’t incompetence—it’s strategy. By letting the rumour mill spin, Kigali keeps everyone guessing and off-balance, including regional powers and donors.
The Verdict?
Whether Kagame is ill, resting, tactically absent, or something more dramatic, what’s undeniable is the extent to which his person has become the axis of the region’s political and psychological balance. Cue when Ugandans went ballistic with rumours of his death at the height of Rwanda-Uganda tensions in the pandemic stream.
In his absence—real or perceived—the country appears suspended in uncertainty, and the region enters a cycle of speculative frenzy.
And in this speculative theatre, everyone has a role: the bitter exile, the fallen insider, the suspicious neighbour, and the grieving daughter who may—or may not—exist in the corridors of power.
Until Kagame reappears, jokes, or waves off the noise, Season 4 continues. Whether it’s drama or deception, Rwanda’s silent stage keeps everyone watching.
