Kampala, Uganda — “Democracy is not a gift from rulers. It is a result of struggle by the ruled.” These were the words of my surrogate father in Uganda, journalist Andrew Mwenda, while he was in prison exactly a year ago this week, for criticizing Ugandan president Yoweri Museveni. Along with jailing Andrew for a weekend on sedition charges, the government also temporarily closed the newspaper I am writing from, the Daily Monitor, and its sister radio station, in vengeance for Andrew’s impudence. This was not unusual.

In Uganda and other developing countries, governments who claim to be democratic tend to discard either by intention or by ignorance the social contract theory on which modern democracy is based. The idea, first propounded by philosophers Thomas Hobbes, John Locke, and Jean Jacques Rousseau, is that government enters into a contract with its constituents where by taking power it agrees to protect their rights. If it fails then it has breached the contract and the people have the right to overthrow the government and find a new one.

A consistent quality among African rulers like Museveni is that when they decide to do something good for their people they portray it as a result of their own magnanimity, a “gift” people should be grateful for rather than an obligation of being in power. Whether a road, a hospital, or even a military that is not (completely) out of control, Museveni refers to these accomplishments as “mine” and expects to receive appropriate accolades. He uses power as a personal entitlement by which whimsically dole out favors from cabinet appointments, road construction projects and even free allocations of public land to foreign investor friends. This is typical across Africa, but despite the long deficit, there is at least one country in East Africa where the social contract not only exists, but may be crucial for survival: Rwanda.

Constantly disgusted with Museveni’s patrimonial rule, Andrew Mwenda is also the one who insisted that I visit the neighboring country of Rwanda with him, to see that African governments could be different. For many, especially in the U.S., Rwanda still has connotations of death and destruction, a lingering effect of the 1994 genocide. The country is rightfully notorious for the scope of the killing that took place there, and for the disgraceful way the international community turned a blind eye to the disaster. But for Andrew, and a growing number in East Africa, Rwanda is taking on a new meaning.

Rwanda’s history of ethnic conflict and its tenuous peace have combined to create an environment where the government must deliver services to its people or risk disrupting a fragile peace. Crucial to this equation is the fact that President Paul Kagame, and many in his administration are from the Tutsi ethnic group, a significant minority in the mostly Hutu country. After the genocide, which was perpetrated primarily by the Hutus against the minority Tutsi, and a protracted civil war, Kagame’s Tutsi-led party came to power. One of the underlying factors in the genocide was the fact that the Tutsi had been traditionally favored by colonial rulers and held positions of power resented by the subjected Hutus. Because they are once again in power as a minority, Kagame and other Tutsis in government feel enormous pressure to perform to justify their positions in terms of merit, not ethnicity.

“These people are serious,” Andrew told me about the Rwandan government, which has come a long way in rebuilding the country under Kagame’s leadership. “Wait until you see their roads.”

The progress in Rwanda was foreshadowed as we left Kampala via the Ugandan airport in Entebbe. As the engines of our Rwandan Air flight started on the runway, Andrew nudged my shoulder. “Check you watch,” he said. The plane was leaving exactly on time, something unheard of for most flights out of Entebbe. We even arrived in Kigali early.

Sure enough, Rwanda’s capital was a far cry from the disorganized destitution I’d become used to in Kampala. The roads are all paved, without the potholes that challenge even the most rugged off road vehicles. Even more impressive, nearly all of the streets, even the road to the airport, are accompanied with wide sidewalks, making walking from one place to another not only possible but safe. In Uganda, a pedestrian journey entails dirt (walking in nice clothes is unadvisable), and the danger of getting hit by a car is high.

Even more telling is a fundamental difference in attitude. In Uganda, one government official summed up their ruling philosophy to me as “it’s cheaper for us to give someone a Land Rover than to deploy soldiers.” The government would rather buy off people it disagrees with or perceives as a threat than resolve whatever their grievances are. Corruption is rampant because it is used as a tool; the president allows members of the administration to grab spoils in return for loyalty which matters more than the delivery of services to the citizens of the country. Oh, and his son drives a Hummer.

Rwanda cannot afford such misuse of power and its leaders know it. Kagame recently recalled all government vehicles so that everyone, including civil servants would be more responsible and accountable for their costs. “It’s about priorities,” said one government employee, “When you are not wasting all this money on government vehicles there is enough for health and education.”

Kagame’s programs include an expanding national health insurance system and affordable housing and loans for government employees—designed to give them a stake in the country so that grabbing a bunch of money and disappearing becomes a less appealing move. Even more importantly the government feels a responsibility to the people. “How can you claim to be busy if you are not serving the people you are supposed to be serving,” said another Rwandan official asked if the government was accessible. And there is also accountability. Those who do not perform or are found to be corrupt are punished and even some close to Kagame have been jailed. “ ‘So what’ doesn’t work in Rwanda,” the official said.

There is serious criticism that Rwanda is not democratic, and that Kagame is a dictator. Some of it is justified. The media is still kept extremely weak--largely because of fear that it could increase tensions as it helped escalate the original genocide—and Kagame holds an extreme amount of power. But at the same time the laws require that 50% of cabinet appointments come from outside the ruling party. Kagame recognizes that he neither can nor should lead forever and is trying to build democratic institutions to secure the progress after he leaves.

This article is not about the genocide. Enough has been written about that atrocity. But ten years on, it is no longer necessary to shed new tears for Rwanda. The lack of corruption and determined attitude of the government mean progress not only can continue but must. A government that delivers may be the only thing holding the country together and it might take only a small push to restart the violence. As sad as it may be, the genocide seems to have jumpstarted effective governance in Rwanda and reintroduced the social contract rather than democracy as a “gift from the rulers.” Uganda, and other corrupt governments have a lot to learn.