Canasius Kanangire: The scholar CEO who grew up in a refugee camp

Then came 20 years in academia (1986-2006), serving as dean, lecturer, and manager of research commissions in universities in Congo, Rwanda, Belgium, and Egypt. He’s worked as Executive Secretary at the African Ministers Council on Water, Lake Victoria Basin Commission, and Nile Basin Initiative.

He’s also made time to raise seven children, return home to Rwanda after over 34 years, and find his roots. He has driven taxis, and taken a boat to Goma as a trader of maize and beans to make ends meet. Most importantly, he’s taught men how to fish with his deep knowledge of aquatic sciences.

The only thing Dr Kanangire seems to have failed to achieve is his dream to be a medical doctor.

I would recommend the chapter on my childhood, growing up in Bukavu, Congo, within a farming family. It was a modest beginning, marked by scarcity but abundant family love—a fascinating dichotomy.

School life was challenging, and many children dropped out early. My parents, however, were determined to give me a better chance.

They enrolled me in a school 10 kilometres away, and I recall my father waking up early each morning to walk me there before returning to his own work. High school was only possible through the generosity of missionaries, as my parents had eleven children.

Out of all my siblings, only my brother and I reached university. One of my sisters, carrying the frustration of missed opportunities, eventually returned to school in her 50s and graduated.

These beginnings were far from easy, but they instilled resilience and a deep-seated determination to transform my life and uplift my family.

If anything, my childhood taught me that with perseverance, everything can change.

After completing my education, I dedicated myself to academia, working as an assistant lecturer, senior lecturer, and researcher. I taught in Congo and later at the University of Rwanda, and I even served as a visiting lecturer in Belgium for a master’s programme.

Teaching offered me the privilege of shaping young minds, mentoring, and contributing to their development.

One of the most impactful moments in my career, however, was the opportunity to work with rural communities, particularly with farmers engaged in aquaculture.

I taught them sustainable practices for fish farming, and witnessing how their lives transformed through this knowledge left a profound mark on me.

This experience broadened my perspective, and it became clear that my next step was to move from policy-making and theoretical teaching to practical service—where I could see the real, tangible impacts of my work on people’s lives.

That’s a tough question. [Pauses] I once aspired to become a doctor, drawn to the idea of healing and saving lives. While I never pursued that path, my fascination with medicine remains. It’s likely too late to achieve a medical degree, but I still hold a deep admiration for the field and its capacity to transform lives.

No. I feel more like I’m in my 50s. I have the energy and ambition of someone younger, with many plans still waiting to be realised. I believe I can continue to bring these ideas to life over the next 20 years. There’s a youthfulness in my heart.

Ah, that would be an entire book of my life! [Laughs] During my teaching days in Congo, financial constraints led me to find alternative sources of income. Bukavu, where I lived, wasn’t fertile, so I traded produce like potatoes, beans, and maize between Goma and Bukavu.

I set up a small store, and later, with a veterinarian friend, I co-founded a pharmacy and even ran a butchery on the side. There was a time I ventured into the taxi business, though initially, my driver was dishonest, siphoning off enough to buy his own taxi. [Laughs]

I decided to drive the taxi myself, and it turned out to be a lucrative venture. My knowledge of the national park and fluent English made me popular with Western tourists.

If there was a group asking for transport other drivers would say, ‘Call the professor to take them.’ Nowadays, I’m experimenting with farming as well.

The tragic history of Rwanda, particularly the events of 1959, forced many to flee, including my parents. As violence escalated, countless Rwandans escaped to neighbouring countries like Uganda, Burundi, Tanzania, and Congo.

My family sought refuge in Congo, where I was born and raised in a camp. Life was challenging; although we had some rights, we were constantly reminded that we were outsiders, limiting our ambitions. After President Kagame’s liberation of Rwanda, I returned to my homeland after 34 years.

Watching others deeply connected to their ancestral villages highlighted how I lacked that sense of belonging. I never had the chance to live in my parents’ village, so there’s no deep-rooted connection for me.

However, the liberation period redefined my understanding of home. I feel like a good citizen of Rwanda as a whole, free to establish roots anywhere within its borders.

Initially, I settled in the southern region, but after 10 years I moved to the capital, Kigali where I now feel deeply at home. Though I missed out on certain cultural roots, I’ve gained a broader connection to the nation itself.

None that I can readily see, except for the resilience it builds. [Pause] Being a refugee pushes you into a very tight situation, forcing you to either accept your fate or fight tirelessly to change your narrative.

My experience taught me how to persevere through adversity, and I’m now more confident in my ability to overcome any challenge that comes my way.

I have seven.

[Laughs] If I could have more, I would.

Yes, I never imagined reaching this point. This journey has surpassed my expectations, and I owe much of it to hard work and, above all, divine grace. I realise that many people have worked just as hard but haven’t been as fortunate.

I’m deeply grateful, and I make it a point to celebrate life with my family. We enjoy visiting national parks, both within Rwanda and across East Africa.

Exploring places like the Virunga, Nyungwe Forest, and the Maasai Mara gives me immense joy and a sense of connection with nature.

I like to have some fun with my children and my grandchildren, swim, and play football. Having grandchildren is the reward you get for raising children.

I want to offer a message of hope to those in modest circumstances, much like I once was. To anyone who feels they lack the resources or opportunities their peers enjoy, remember that change is possible. With vision, determination, and consistent effort, you can transform your situation.