
Viateur Munderere pats his cows, part of his business projects
When Munderere Viateur was deep in the grip of drug addiction, few could have predicted that one day he would run a thriving multimillion-franc agribusiness.
At his lowest, Munderere was among hundreds of young Rwandans gripped by hopelessness and substance abuse. His life was heading in a dangerous direction—until he was taken to Iwawa Rehabilitation and Vocational Development Centre, an institution designed to rescue delinquents like him.
Iwawa, an island facility on Lake Kivu, has long been the subject of controversy. Critics, including Rwandan exiles and some international NGOs, have painted it as a punitive detention center where conditions are inhumane.
However, the reality on the ground offers a different perspective. Iwawa currently houses up to 10,000 delinquents at any given time—primarily youth struggling with addiction, homelessness, or criminal behavior.
What these critics often ignore is that many parents themselves choose to send their unruly children to Iwawa, seeing it as a last resort to instill discipline and help redirect their lives.
In Rwandan society, it has even become common to warn young people by saying, “You need to go to Iwawa” if they exhibit antisocial behavior.
Originally opened in 2010, the facility was the government’s response to the growing issue of street children and youth vulnerability. The approach was holistic: combining drug rehabilitation, psychological support, and vocational training.
Early beneficiaries, like Munderere, were not only given skills but also small financial support to start new lives. The same is done with all who go through the facility. Over time, Iwawa has evolved into one of Rwanda’s largest and most structured rehabilitation institutions, quietly building success stories like Munderere’s.

Viateur Munderere has an irrigation scheme, done using hillside irrigation system due to typography of the region
Planting Seeds of Change
Munderere arrived at Iwawa in its second intake, around 2011. At first, like many others, he resisted the change. The detoxification process was difficult. But over the months, something shifted.
The center provided him with not just structure, but also purpose. He learned discipline, self-awareness, and a range of skills that would prove vital in his transformation.
Upon completing the program, Munderere left Iwawa with a new vision for his life. He decided to venture into agribusiness, beginning with a modest setup. Armed with vocational training and a renewed mindset, he started working the land, experimenting with crops, and reinvesting every small profit he made.
His efforts soon began to pay off. As demand for high-quality agricultural produce grew, so did his ambition. He formalized his business under the name “Muviateur Company,” which now operates in Kabarore Sector, Gatsibo District in Rwanda’s Eastern Province.
Today, Muviateur Company owns over 120 cows, with 65 of them producing milk daily. His daily output exceeds 800 liters of milk, supplying the local market and surrounding communities. But Munderere didn’t stop there.
An Employer and Inspiration
Munderere’s company has expanded into maize cultivation and poultry farming. The maize is ground and sold locally, while the poultry business produces up to 12 trays of eggs daily. His business is valued at over Rwf 300 million ($240,000) —an astonishing transformation for someone who once roamed the streets addicted to narcotics.

Some of the people that have benefited from Viateur Munderere’s recovery
More importantly, he’s paying it forward. His company employs 27 full-time staff and over 100 casual workers during harvesting seasons. He also offers internships and apprenticeships to local youth. As a graduate of Iwawa, he knows the importance of a second chance and is committed to being a role model for others battling their own demons.
Munderere regularly speaks to young people in schools and communities, encouraging them to avoid drugs and pursue productive paths. He reminds them that it’s not about where you come from—but what you choose to do after you fall.
Reflecting on his time at Iwawa, he says, “That place saved my life. If I hadn’t gone there, I might be dead or in prison today. Instead, I employ people, I pay taxes, and I support my family.”
His story challenges the narrow lens through which Iwawa is often portrayed. It is not merely a detention center—it is a place of reform, rehabilitation, and rebirth. For every criticism levied against the facility, there are thousands of lives like Munderere’s that bear testimony to its impact.