The Pain Of Losing A Parent

I remember it as if was yesterday. It does not matter that it happened way back in 1994,there are times the wound is so fresh I could swear it happened yesterday.

The Pain Of Losing A Parent

My mother had been on high blood pressure for a very long time , I was only able to piece together the bits and pieces of the puzzle slowly over a long period of time.This was the result of an accident which left my eldest sister burnt and she was hospitalized .For a time it was touch and go ,I gathered later ,the accident having happened well before I was even conceived so no one in the family really talked about it .I supposed this was because of the trauma that she  had gone through.During that ordeal ,my mother was to be diagnosed with high blood pressure and she started taking medication.

When I was born ,I understand she had already been on the meds for sometime.I was her last born son and I must say she loved me dearly and I believe now she spoiled me a little bit although I am not your typical mama’s boy. being the youngest ,I remember growing up and going to school and the only constant in my life was my mother.My siblings are all much older than me ,so they had completed school at the local primary school and had gone on to secondary schools far from home and my father could only come to visit during public holidays from his work in Harare.

In time,I was also able to outgrow the primary school and trekked to Harare for further education.I would just bear the idea of staying away from my mother  for the three months which constituted the school term,the day immediately after schools closed without fail, I would be on the first available bus for the rural home where my mother would be .

Whilst in college,I realized that my mother was no longer as strong as she used to be and I discovered that she was taking these medicines .It wasn’t a secret but I guess I had previously been too young to comprehend all that was happening around me.I would try and do my best to cover as much work as I could during the three or four weeks of the school vacation but I guess is was never enough now was it ?

I remember in 1993 ,when she was taken ill and my father , who was a pensioner then brought her to the family home ion then town of Chitungwiza(a dormitory town 20 kilometers from Harare)so that we could seek medical attention from a private doctor who operated a surgery quite close to our house.After many tests were conducted and much going to and fro ,it was later discovered that she had cancer of the eosophagus.She could not hold down any food let alone liquids like water.She was refered to one of  the main referral hospital at Harare Hospital.After undergoing several chemotherapy treatments she was discharged and we were told to bring her to hospital for check-up and to have her medication replenished.

Watching her struggling and waste away a on a daily basis from the lack of nourishment was heartbreaking, nothing seed to make sense then.Life was a slog .Whenever I had to leave home and go into town , my thoughts would be troubled ,I always feared that I could come back to find her gone.We were blessed as a family that her sisters would take turns to come and help look after her but the dreadful thoughts that one had especially at night was one which hardly made it possible for one to sleep.This was reduced to cat naps with one ear turned to the next room to try and find out if all was still alright.After a few months of this existence ,her sister finally arranged to take her home and we hired a station wagon were she could lie at the back with the back seat folded as at the time she could no longer walk nor sit.Little did I know that this would be the last time I would ever see her alive because two weeks after her departure I got a call that she had passed away and we had to start arrangements to lay her remains  to rest at the family grave yard in the rural area of Makoni South in Manicaland province.

Although I was a full-grown man with a wife and family at the time ,the loss was mind blowing .It took time for me to take it into my stride.One of the reason why I seemed to struggle with the loss was the fact that I was unable to grieve ,I shut all the emotions inside where no one could see them and tried as hard as I could to function like a normal being .I grew up at a time when most males were taught that one never showed their emotions in public,you would have to bottle these up lest you be known as someone less of a man and would be ridiculed. The truth is that I was cut up. Whilst my mind rationalized that maybe this was better for her because no human being is supposed to suffer as she had .To make the matter worse she would always put on a brave face and would ask me whether I was eating and sleeping well and I would lie to her that all was well do not think for a moment that I was able to fool her though,she was my mother after all.

Twenty-four years later the loss of my father to rob me of the remaining parent made me relive these emotions once more and to tell the truth it is as bitter as the first time I experienced it.

The Power Of Gratitude P3

On the nineteenth of July I lost my father.What was shocking was that the day before I had got a call late in the day that he wasn’t feeling well and a cousin brother was taking him to Rusape General hospital where was admitted.

Mr Gwangwara Snr 

Early in the morning of the following day whilst making arrangements to go to Rusape,I Got the dreaded call that he had passed on during the night. After alerting my older siblings well as other members of the extended family  of the news, I hit the road so that I could go and consult with my uncle-my father’s only remaining sibling-about funeral arrangements.

I was fortunate to have a cousin brother in Nyazura ,just twenty kilometers from home, who was waiting for me and we proceeded home. When we got there we found that nothing had been done as the family said that they were waiting for us the children  to lead the arrangements .We the remaining brothers gathered-three from the extended family and my uncle ,a plan of action was devised and my cousin brother and I set about implementing it.Throughout the arrangements and the actual burial, Richard was a rock. He would guide point out things that needed to be attended to and generally made sure that he had my back.

My father was 94 years old and had never been to hospital since the time I became conscious of things around me he was also the village head. When one is a child, one takes their parents for granted. The only time I realized the high esteem in which he was regarded was the massive turn out of mourners on the day of the burial; members of the Seventh Day Adventist church, fellow headmen, the local chief as well friends and family members who drove from far to take up in the burial, opened my eyes to the high regard in which my father was held. Somehow the huge turnout of people who came to offer their condolences made it a bit bearable to face the loss.

Nyati together with his company, Nyaradzo Funeral Services, ensured that we could mourn and bury our father with the dignity that was befitting of a man of his stature. They went beyond the funeral plan that he had with the company and ensured the mourners well catered for.

To each and every person who came and contributed to the smooth mourning period as well as the dignified burial of my father, the family is forever in your debt.

The Ugly Double Standards Of Armchair Critics

In a statement soon after the Zimbabwe National Army lead operation “Restore Legacy” ,Numsa, general secretary Irvin Jim,said;’The army in Zimbabwe has taken over power through a military coup and no amount of concealment of this most obvious of facts can change the ugly reality of the unconstitutional military takeover of power in Zimbabwe.

The Ugly Double Standards Of Armchair Critics

The  first stolen elections from the year 2002 to date ,the Zimbabwean opposition politicians have been crying foul over the manner in which the ZanuPf party with aid of the army, especially where the 2008 election were concerned. Where were the likes of Mr Jim,the catch phrase then was ‘Zimbabweans should solve their own internal problems. ’The army is surely part and parcel of the Zimbabwean populace so why then is it wrong now that they have initiated the resolving of the internal problem that the likes of Mr Jim alluded to earlier, dare hide behind the constitutionality of the act. Where were they when the constitution was being abused in the name of uncle Bob.I guess some animals are more equal than others huh ala the pigs in THE ANIMAL FARM.

We have had to endure harassment,false accusations,imprisonment,trumped up charges of undermining the dignity of the President,Treason ,just to mention a few and we had to do it without any support from the likes of Mr Jim and his ilk. Now that we have the courage to throw off the yoke that has been around our collective necks for the last 37 YEARS please leave us be so we can solve our Internal problem Uncle Bob.

Included in the group of worthless critics and organizations is surely the AU and Sadc,who can forget the ill-advised Quiet Diplomacy practiced by one Thabo Mbeki, when he was the President of South Africa. It never bore any fruit save to entrench the despotic rule of Uncle Bob. Their main concern is self-aggrandizement and the stroking of their collective egos. We say to hell with you, we are living in the moment and enjoying it whilst we can .We will not listening to your doomsday prophecies, We will reclaim our lives come what may.

At the time of writing this  article a lot has come and gone ,another disputed election; but then that is the nature of ‘The Beast’ isn’t it.An election by its nature is a dispute .So the fact that one of the contestants is disputing the results may just be put down to “sour grapes” or is it?Anyway we were able to exercise our right to choose our leader and now the arduous task of undoing the rot that set in during the past regime’s misrule begins.At the end of the day it is the individual citizens putting their collective shoulders to the wheel which will get us out of thus rut not some know it all somewhere hiding behind his laptop of in front of a TV camera for 20 seconds of fame.

What's In A Name

‘What’s in a name,that which we call a rose will smell just as sweet if called by another name’,William Shakespear wrote.

What's In A Name

Traditionally ,our names are supposed to depict some happening in our parents’ lives,Reval,Sarudzai,Makandionei,Dambudzo to name just a few of the names that hang around the necks of some Zimbos like a tire-necklace ,for those of you who are not aware, this is a sadistic form of punishment devised by the South Africans where they pour petrol into a used tire ,put it around a person before setting it alight. The victim dies an agonizing death. Unfortunately, most of these people with these traditional names somehow actually suffer as in the case of one called Nhamo (Suffering).Many a time these children with the hard-luck inspired names change these names to “acceptable” ones once they get a chance or when they start going to secondary school because we know that teenagers can be cruel if you don’t have a cool name, one can end up being bullied mercilessly.

This is the reason why some Zimbos end up with names like Kubi,an Anglicized version of the name Kubvoruno,which was deemed uncool by its owner. Usually we are in the habit of having two names one given at birth which is normally in the child’s mother tongue ,then another which is Christian inspired for the church baptism. These are the names that are normally adopted once one starts going to school or when they want to appear ‘cool’ names like; John,James,Peter,or Mischeck. Many a time these guys  with the ‘found names’ tend to ignore those who grew up with them should they accidentally meet and greet them using the hated “African” names.Of later there has been an upsurge of cool names which are inspired by celebrates like;Beyonce,Ronaldo,Alisha to name but A few.

A lot has been said about the need for our people to be conscious of where they come from by not many can withstand the need for them to appear cool in the eyes of their colleagues and peers.Peer pressure applies even too the aged,so a lot of less hardy types will cower to have their traditional names called in circles where they want to be regarded as being in with the program. In Lesotho, where I had the pleasure of living for quite some time ,a lot of children have English inspired traditional names like ;Paramente from Parliament,Lepolisa from a policeman or Lesole from the word soldier in English.I was unable to establish the thinking behind the names but suffice to say quite a few giggles were stifled at the mention of these names.But most importantly ,that is a nation which is in love of its culture,to the extent that most of the given names are in Sesotho- the mother tongue.

I rest my case, you be the judge.

The Power Of Positive Thoughts

I was fortunate to get the Pdf of the book; THINK AND GROW RICH  by Napolean Hill, from one member of a motivational group that I belong to, on Whatsapp.  After reading a few pages of the first chapter ,I have discovered the real reason why a lot of the ventures I have started have failed.

The Power Of Positive Thoughts

 I have discovered that we are what we are because of the thoughts that we have in our heads.In the year 2010,with just 500 rands in my pocket, I was fortunate enough to start a High school and within a month I had managed to have over a hundred students ,eight fully  employed members of staff.This was a result of the fact that I had been employed three years previous to that at a private school that was run by a man who was so irresponsible that he would spent the money that was  paid by the students as his private income instead of the fact that it was money for the running of the business. When later on in 2009 he had problems paying us our salaries ,I THOUGHT OF STARTING MY OWN SCHOOL.That thought was the seed that lead me to pool my resources and and talk to the disgruntled members of staff about my plans of starting my own schools. Most of them were really enthusiastic  about joining me. Because  I was determined and knew what I wanted, I was able to advertise ,register and start the school at the beginning of 2010.An investor came on board after I told him my vision, he put up the deposit for the premises which we were renting and the school was able to pay him  back within the first month of operating as well as pay rentals ,allowances for members of staff as well as buy stationery for the day-to- day running of the school.

After running the school for two years and having experienced the stress of fighting with my “partner” in the venture ,who would make it a point to sabotage me at every turn, I threw in the towel and walked away from the baby I had conceived in my mind and nurtured to its birth. With hindsight , I have discovered that the course of action I took was not the best one ,I should have stuck it out and found ways of running the “partner “ out of the business instead of giving up so easily. I was guilty of failing to persist and sustain the burning desire that I had when I thought of the business venture in the first place. Despite the fact that my erstwhile partner had turned into my enemy, I should have soldiered on.

Interestingly, He did try to run the venture on his own for a while but I was later told that it folded spectacularly. He did not have the vision nor the desire to carry out the project.How many of us have started projects only to abandon them at the first sign of trouble. Statistics show that most small businesses fail in the first two years of inception,This the period were one finds that there are a lot of teething problems ;from lack of funds to run the project, lack of expertise and maybe not having the clientele for the business.

The Case Of Mistaken Identity

Whilst standing outside one of the major banks in Harare, I was accosted by a young lady with a toddler in tow, at first I thought that she was one of the ladies who have perfected the art of begging,who regularly swindle gullible people out of their hard earned cash by telling them tall tales of hard luck so that they can part with a few coins.

The Case Of Mistaken Identity

Imagine my amusement when she asked me whether I was a Mr Chirume from Mutare.I shook my head with a chuckle to ease obvious embarrassment. She apologized and went on her way but it got me thinking of the time IN THE KINGDOM IN THE SKY(LESOTHO) ,When I had a similar case. I saw someone whose striking resemblance to my late cousin brother had me make a double take.

My brother, rest his departed soul had passed on a couple of years before the chance encounter with his “twin “ in Lesotho.He had been ill for quite some time before his demise. Two days before he passed on ,I went to the taxi rank where he normally picked up passengers. I was informed by his colleagues that he had not been coming for work for quite some time. I proceeded to his place of residence and found his mother giving him a bath (this was a grown man of about forty years),his wife had deserted him because of the illness which finally took him to his grave.

On the day I saw the person who looked so similar to him, I took a double take, my mind told me that it could not be possible but my heart skipped a beat all the same. For a few seconds there I think I believed in reincarnation. I believe I had not fully processed his departure then. 

I finally was able to put the case to bed after thinking about it for a while and seeing the absurdity of my thoughts.But lately I have learnt  that there is an urban myth that somewhere in the world there is someone who looks exactly like you,Science says such a thing does not exist but bearing in mind the fact that there are over Seven billion on earth at the moment the the chance that someone might look like you out there can not be ruled out.

The Quest For The Elusive Dollar

It is an open secret that things are tough in Zimbabwe at the moment ,people spend most of their time hustling to get the elusive greenback.

The Quest For The Elusive Dollar

So serious is the way in which some people hustle that there are reports that people have gone as far as Nigeria ,Ghana and Mozambique in order to look for charms which purportedly help them to acquire money at any cost. The dailies are full of reports of people who would have gone to these so called ‘Prophets’ and Witch Doctors who promise them heaven on earth. Often times they are given small twigs and told to go and do as the ‘Prophets’ will have advised. Most of them cry foul after discovering that the twigs end up turning into enormous snakes which completely take over their lives.

Recently ,a certain lady from Chinhoyi, who claimed that her mother had left here a huge snake when she passed away, had to resort to one of local radio stations in order to look for help as the gigantic snake had completely taken over her life and turned it into a living hell. Those in the know claim that the damsel in distress had a huge mansion and several top of the range vehicles but she could not attract nor keep a spouse as it was taboo for her to do so. She lived alone with only a maid to keep her company in the huge mansion. Loneliness and the need to be reed of the demanding reptile, forced her  into  turning to the radio station in order to ask for help. It is reported that several ‘Men of God ‘ tried and failed to kill the gigantic snake, with some reports saying it was as big as ten meters and weighted several tonnes.

Last week, there was a reported breakthrough in the case as some Prophets went to the home of this lady and succeeded in killing the snake.

Another reported case is one of a lady from one of the affluent suburbs of Harare, who reportedly went to Mozambique in her  quest to get instant riches, she was told to go and perform some rituals , when her money was enough for her needs ,she had to return to the Wizard who had given her the herbs ,un fortunately for her, she did not return and the room where she was supposed to keep the money that was created by the wizardry was so full of money that she no longer knew what to do with it. At the time of writing she was so overwhelmed that she was asking for advice.

In our quest to be better than the Johns next-door some of us are going out of our way and abandoning the nurturing of our parents to the extent that we end up biting more than we can chew.

It Takes A Village

A nephew of mine paid me a visit the other day so that he could check on me after he learnt that I had sprained my leg.After exchanging greetings and discussing the weather,the true nature of his visit soon became apparent when he started complaining of the difficulties he was getting in trying to raise his eldest son as an upstanding member of the community.

It Takes A Village

Like most of the young people of his generation my nephew has his sense of entitlement were he expects things to be done for him and things are handed over to him on a silver platter. His father has a small business which has managed to put him through school and the university education which is now enjoying is a result of the efforts of his father. The parent had in his wisdom asked the young man to have a holiday job so that he could earn a some pocket money .Towards the end of the vacation job stint, the young man was not happy about the fact that his payment was delayed which resulted in him pouring out his heart to the effect that he did not think much of his father and he would much prefer his mother ,who was more understanding and gave him all that he asked for as for the surname he might as well change it since his father was not fair to him.

Things got so bad that he has since dropped out of University and he wants to go back to form five so that he can resit his “A” level examination once more.He completely misses the fact that he has spent a lot of time ,effort and expenses on his studies todate. Nobody seems to be able to stop him from going on this self- destructive quest of his and the family is at their wits’ end.He is warming his back at moment whilst consuming the musical programs that are spewed by the various channels on the Television set.

I was roped in to try and talk some sense into him.His intention is to change the program of study.In most peoples view this is throwing his future away.Since I am a bit removed from the situation ,the belief was that I would be able to hear his side of the story and advise his parents so that a collective decision could be reached.After I had sat with the young man and he listened to my and his parents view presented by a neutral,the matter is still up in the air and his future hangs in the balanced.

I have had the privilege of tutoring some hard working youths who were down on their luck and many struggled to have anyone who could pay for their education and it pains me to find one who has parents and extended family egging him on and making sure he has all he needs in order to get a University degree which a lot of other deserving people crave for but fail to get because of circumstances beyond their control,but he is prepared to throw it all away on a whim.WHAT A SHAME