Ubunthu

This great African philosophy which places people above all else is under threat of becoming obsolete.

Ubunthu

Most of the popular social media platforms are abound with stories of people being mugged,burned by our brothers in the Republic of South Africa, because they are perceived to be "foreign".The Covid-19 pandemic has brought into sharp focus the plight of the foreigners in the diaspora but of aparticular concern is the discourse coming out of South Africa.The amount of hate and intolerance is in sharp contrast to the ideals and the cooperation which existed beteween the founding fathers of the liberation struggles in the Sadc region as well as Africa in general.Iam sure the revered Nelson Mandela must be turning in his grave at the utter vetriol coming out of some misguided South Africans.

Zimbabweans,Nigertians and other foreigners living in South African are living in constant fear of reprisals and unjustified scapegoating.Although most of these "foreigners" have actually justified their positions in the firms which have hired them they are still accused of having stollen the jobs from deserving South Africans.Most of the people mourning and threatening unspecified actioins against these black brothers conviently forget that Africa is our home and the bounderies which exist now are as a result of the colonizers.Most of the bounderies actually force a lot of tribes,kith and kin apart,which renders them rediculous.

History books are full of tales of people who came from their countries of origin to settle and work in foreign lands and their adopted countries actual benefitted emensily from their contributions,so instead of complaining about people coming to take "their" jobs ,these blocks just need to wake up and compete for their place in the sun.PEACE

Innocent Victims Of The Economic Meltdown

Recently I have had  conversations  with two young girls who have been rendered "orphans" because of the debilitating economic meltdown which  Zimbabwe has been  experiencing for the past decade or more.

Innocent Victims Of The Economic Meltdown

The first is a sixteen year old girl who is studying towards her Ordinary Level examinations in October this year.I discovered that her mother passed away when she was three months old and her father ended up going to the Republic of South Africa to seek greener pastures.She was left in her father's older brother and his wife to care for her.The painful part of the story is the fact that she has not had the pleasure of knowing her father at all since she became aware of her paternity.For a girl child this can be very painful since girl children normally form very close bonds with their fathers.She went on to disclose the fact that she was told that her father had remarried. Whilst her Uncle had tried to reach out to his younger brother so that he could take responsibility for his daughter, the phone always goes unanswered.At the time of writing she still has not heard from her father.The saving grace is the fact that the Uncle is doing a splendid job of raising her.

The other case is a thirteen year old girl who has just started her secondary education and she broke down in the clasroom.After calming her down and asking her what the problem was ,she intimated that she missed her mother.She said that her mother was  had gone to RSA four years ago and has never come back nor has she called. The mother has not bothered to check on  about her welfare  at all.At the moment she is being looked after by her father's sister.The father is a subsistence farmer more than two hundred kilometres away.In someways this girl seems to feel that she has been abandoned twice.

Whilst I understand that things are difficult here but please lets try and be responsible for the lives we created.

Adversity Can Bring Out The Best In People

“I remember very well years ago when I was often bullied and often,the bullying became the norm. Throughout my childhood and adolescent life, because of my unusual height coupled with my timid and soft spoken personality, I would be teased and laughed  sat, and often challenged to fight by other boys in school”-Edgar Mangwende.

Adversity Can Bring Out The Best In People

This paragraph in the book; The Cage Mentality from the Mind to the Mountaintop by Edgar Mangwende made me reminisce to my  own youth and it was eerie the similarities between our lives.I was and born and brought up in the Seventh Day Adventist church, being the only boy from my village who attended this church meant that when I came back from church all my age-mates would have disappeared to God knows where. Eventually I did not even bother to go look for them , I would sit at home and either read comic books which my elder siblings always brought home or listen to the radio. In time I got so used to my own company at times  I would leave my mates to go home so that I could be on my own.This helped to save me from many a scrape remember once going to make sure the cattle were securely closed up in the kraal and rushing home in order to listen to one program  which used to air at six in the evening was surprised to learn the next morning that all the boys in the village had been called to the Village head to be grilled and punished for having burnt out one kraal with the cattle in it ,apparently they had been playing with lighted cow dung and one of this pieces had ended up in the kraal ,those of you who grew up in the rural areas or farms know that once cow dung is lit it does not go out unless someone pours copious amounts of water on it.Fortunately most parents knew that I was well behaved so I was exempted from those proceedings. But the roasting I got from my age mates after that as well as the ostracism really rankled.

When I then left the village to go start my secondary schooling , I was to meet one of the my most trying of times at the hands of one Yoman Thomas.I was very tall and gangly for my age ,the fact that most of my peers picked up that I was not from the hood because of my dialect resulted in a lot of teasing and ridicule at the hands of most of my classmates save for one fellow outcast like me ; a pupil who was born with albinism. Because of the fact that we were both ostracized ,we gravitated towards each other and formed such a strong bond that we were friends until my erstwhile passed away.When I later learnt about his passing, I really felt hurt.(I had migrated for over a decade in search of greener pastures.)Yoman would make it a habit of waiting at one of the gates we normally used when we came to school from lunch and he would either beat us up or poke fun at us.Little did we know that we could have reported this abuse to the form teacher and he could have been disciplined.

Somehow I was able to channel my inner strength and applied myself at my studies,  after the form two results came out and he discovered that I was the best student in the two classes the abuse mercifully stopped.

 When  I was elected as one of the prefects during my third year of secondary school ,he knew I had become untouchable.

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.

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

Children Say The Darnedest Things

I spent a innocent half hour with my granddaughters and it was fun because there was no pretense on their part,the eldest is five years old and has just started school ,grade 0 she says .In my time we did not have such,at seven years old one started grade one and that was that!

Children Say The Darnedest Things

What I enjoyed the most was the fact that there were screeches of loud voices and I was engulfed in hugs ,each of the two elder girls competing for my attention and the almost six month old baby gurgling away contentedly without any care in the world .Maybe the fact that I always bring some goodies in the form of bananas and those chicken flings that children love so much is the reason why I am so well received but I don’t care !When their eyes light up with recognition ,that is enough for me.

The eldest rushes to their room and comes back with her small hands leaden with a school bag ,school shoes in the other hand and a pair of rubber boots (for when it rains I suppose) in the other hand and loudly proclaims the fact that she is now going to school .Her heart is bursting with the good news and she just has to share them with her grandfather.

The second born declares contemptuously that she doesnot go to school nor does she sing in the church choir.She boldly declares that she hates both those activities and volunteers the fact that she loves to play.It is said with such a serious countenance that one cannot help laughing.

It is moments like these that I truly appreciate how fortunate I am to have a daughter and the granddaughters she bore,nothing beats the feeling of being loved unreservedly. I am going to enjoy this for as long as it lasts before the ugly world turns them cynical.

Chitungwiza Residents Caught In A Debt Trap

Some of the residents of the dormitory town of Chitungwiza ,which lies twenty odd kilometers  southwest of the the capital city Harare have been severely affected by the dire economic and social hardships prevailing in the country.

Chitungwiza Residents Caught In A Debt Trap

Most of the residents are owing the Town council for  rates for  amounts between one hundred and fifty dollars  whilst others  are owing as much as three thousand dollars.During the past month ,the cash strapped council has had to employ the services of debt collectors who went around giving the residents  in arrears letters of demand.As a result the town council headquarters has been a hive of activity as people went to plead for time to pay off the outstanding amounts .

Obviously, the closure of  most  of the businesses that were operating at the industrial complex has not made the situation any easier. Quite a fair number of residents of Chitungwiza used to employed there .The economic downturn experienced by the whole country since 2000 has affected people all over the country with resultant loss of jobs and levels of unemployment  hovering around 90% of the population. Therefore the average income for most households has been seriously hampered.

The result of the depressed economic activities in the industrial area and the country in general  has ensured a vicious circle that has resulted in the council failing to have enough resources to ensure that services are delivered to the residents satisfaction.

Cry The Lost Generation

Monday, the 19 th of March  2018, was my first encounter with the effects of drug abuse.I had spent a leisurely three hours of the morning with a nephew of mine who had just completed his MSc,after he dropped me off at the main bus stop in Harare,I boarded a bus that was Chitungwiza bound

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Cry The Lost Generation

The first part of the twenty kilometers of the journey was kind of eventless. Things turned at the first bus stop after the St Marys Police Station, the bus was supposed to let off passengers whilst others boarded. The conductor ,who was standing just inside the bus on the steps ,asked the Youngman (in his early twenties) to get further into the bus as he was afraid that he would fall off the bus .The young man flatly refused and started to berate the conductor at the top of his voice.Bus and mini-bus taxi conductors are well-known for being brash or outright rude to passengers once they are onboard but this one met his match in the irate young man who told him that he was not going to pay and there was nothing that the conductor could do about it.Try as he would ,the conductor was unable to force the young man off the bus.The young man ,who was wearing some really dark sun glasses proceeded to assault the conductor  whilst calling the conductor all sorts of names  and alluding to the fact that he was a person of loose morals. The conductor did not take kindly to the tirade and tried to punch the Youngman but he proved to be too powerful for him. Efforts by most of the elderly people on the bus to urge the conductor to ignore the irate young man fell on deaf ears.

At the first bus top in Zengeza, the argument nearly spilled over into the bus as the two antagonists continued to trade punches but the young man was winning the fight ,at this stage the conductor retrieved an iron bar used with the wheel spanner ,seeing this the young tyrant quickly jumped off the bus and sauntered away leaving the conductor fuming since the driver was restraining him.

I have heard stories of how the unemployed youths in the townships abuse substances like cough mixture and others in order to have a high and forget about their troubles for some hours but this was my closest  encounter with one who was intoxicated. One’s heart bleeds for this lost generation which cannot seem to shake off the despondence of unemployment and the need for personal fulfillment.

It Is Not Where You Start But How You End

Edgar Mangwende is the epitome of the cream that rises to the top of the milk. Born in a family of six, he is the fourth child. His father was a driver for the national airline; Air Zimbabwe , his mother was and still is a hustlepreneur according to the lingo of the youth.

It is Not Where You Start But Where You EndAdd caption

One can hardly describe his upbringing as one that was well-to-do, but certainly the prevailing  standards in the newly post colonial Zimbabwe,they did not starve. A story which I remember quite clearly was one where his father flatly refused to go and be humiliated at Edgar’s primary school during a parents meeting(consultation day).His reason was that Edgar and his younger brother were not the sharpest tools in the shed and would hover around the last group of learners in their respective classes. Presumably they had not fully grasped the concepts of studying  and applying themselves. The father would boycott these occasions.

He was however surprised when the “O” level examination results came out and found out that the erstwhile dullards had passed well enough for them to proceed to form five and six after which they dully qualified for university. After four years of study Edgar was able to attain a BSc(Hon) in Horticulture form the Midlands State University. He proceeded after a few years of strife ,in which he could not secure any meaningful employment .He ended up joining a Multi-Level Marketing company where he used to sell green tea and other herbal remedies to clients in and around Harare. Edgar’s never die attitude and acute sense of purposed however ,eventually led him to be accepted         to study for an MSc  at the University of Pretoria .According to him ,times were hard. He would go without meals at times until one of his lecturers challenged his students to excel at an assignment he had given and he promised that the the best student would be sent to Scotland for a month-all expenses paid.Edgar set out to look for part-time work to finance his meals and for the resources he needed in order to complete the assignment .He did this with flying  colours and was able to pay his own way for the study visit to Scotland .Soon after he came back and completed his studies upon which he commenced  to write his book ,The Cage Mentality-From the mind to the Mountain top, whilst completing his PhD in Plant Pathology.

Whether his book bombs or not ,the fact that he has been able to achieve all these from his humble beginnings attest to the strong will,never die attitude that marks him out as one whom will certainly make waves in both his chosen field and whatever community he will choose to live in.

A Zimbos Perspective Of Life In The Diaspora

Whilst some will embrace you with open arms, there are subtle nuances that will throw you off balance if you are observant enough.

A Zimbos Perspective Of Life In The Diaspora

These are found in the terms that most indigenous people will use in referring to one such as the following used by the Sotho speaking inhabitants of South Africa and Lesotho;’makoere-koere,batsoakantle,bo my friend,bakhotsi,bo Rathuthu.If ones grasp of the local language is not that good then people will go to town ,gossiping about one in their faces.Some not so pleasant experiences will be when one meets someone who has a score to settle with a perceived enemy,who is accused of having stolen a girlfriend or a prospective job.That or the fact that you are found not to be light skinned enough to qualify as a Mosotho.Half the time the terms ‘Ke Lesotho moo' thrown about ,there is normally open hostility .Coupled with these would be questions like ;’why don’t you vote Mugabe out’ or ‘Ke Lesotho moo ,kutlang haeno’

Most people have developed a thick skin as they can hardly win all the arguments started by people who have very low self esteem or are simply not educated enough to realize the benefits that most countries gain from the economic refugees that settle in the various countries. Most of the people who are predominantly found in the countries neighboring  Zimbabwe are quite well educated and have skills that they can offer. Unfortunately, most of them end up not necessarily working in their areas of specialization but the fact that they have been through tertiary education makes them very malleable to adapt and operate quite efficiently in any given task they find themselves in so that they can put bread on their tables .

Be The Best You Can,With What You Have,Where You Are

The great Nelson Mandela became the President of South Africa at the ripe old age of SEVENTY-SIX years.

Be The Best You Can,With What You Have,Where You Are

Many able bodied people of various ages give up their dreams because they stop believing in themselves or think that it is not doable, having a never-die attitude as well not allowing one to wallow in self pity will definitely drive one to their dreams.As sure as the sun rises in the East and sinks in the West,things will never remain the same.No matter what state one finds themselves in, the truth is that it will change .So instead of winging and mourning about your circumstances ,get up ,dress up and pitch up.Do something about your circumstance, it might be as minute as going to visit a friend and chatting ,the walk and the chance to change your surroundings will definitely give you a different perspective to the problem,half the chance you will come back invigorated  and ready to meet your challenge head on.

Whilst I might not be the best example of a person who has achieved in life , I never stop moving nor improving myself.This year alone , I was able to go for a class two drivers’ license  after having failed at the last huddle Five times ,I DID NOT give up ,on the sixth attempt I got the license and began the odious task of looking for a job in an economy where it is reported that more than half the population is unemployed. I could have given up or waited for something to happen but instead through the luck I created I was able to get a job managing a construction project for some guys who where going into construction but where too busy to baby sit the project to fruition.

How I created my luck was making people aware that I was willing to work on a voluntary basis in order to gain some driving experience.Once I was given the opportunity to work, I ensued that I did my very best .Right now Iam indispensible to the operation, Iam not only  proactive, I make sure I resolve problems on site and make it possible for the principals to concentrate on their careers.

Whilst I might not be driving but Iam learning some very useful life skills which I would have needed to pay some big bucks for in order to learn .The things is I never pass the opportunity to learn something new.Our brains require constant stimulation otherwise they die from inactivity. The stuff we learnt last year is already obsolete so we cannot rest on our laurels and think that we know it all. 

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.

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 when 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 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. 

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.

A Rose By An Other 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 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

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This is the reason why some Zimbos end up with names like Kubi,an Anglicanized 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 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’. 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.

A lot has been said about the need for our people to being 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.

The Power Of Gratitude Part 3

What goes around ,comes back around ;they say on the second of July 2017,I was reminded of this when a friend reminded me of a good deed that I carried out more than twenty odd years ago.

At the time a friend told me in confidence of the financial problems she was going through and asked whether I would be able to lend her some money for nephew’s school fees .I do not remember the exact amount involved any more .I had a bit of spare cash at the time and grudgingly gave it to her ,I was not really sure whether I would be able to get it back.To her credit she was able to pay it back and I promptly forgot about.

The Power Of Gratitude

Fast forward some twenty odd years later ,I am now the one in a fix and I require help in paying for some driving lessons ,during a conversation I happen to mention  that I am having problems ,imagine my surprise and delight when  my friend, out of the blue, inform in that I should go town and collect enough money for my lessons and a bit left over.I profusely thank my benefactor ,proceed to the point I was instructed and duly get the promised amount.A day later my reminds me of the helping hand I had extended all those years ago and informs me that the fellow I had helped in paying for his fees eventually completed school ,passed and now has a well paying job in The Republic Of South Africa.

Imagine, if I had refused to help out when I did what would have happened.What was a small gesture at the time resulted in me getting a leg up.Often people act without consciously thinking out their actions not realizing that they have a bearing on what happens in the future.Should one be in a position to help,they should just do it ,they never know that kind deed may lead to their getting a helping hand in their hour of need.

One Of Zimbabwe’s Top Schools In Modern Day Slavery Allegations

The school which constantly produces some pupils who feature in the top ten best achievers in the primary school leavers examinations is accused of modern day slavery.

One Of Zimbabwe’s Top Schools In Modern Day Slavery Allegations

A friend’s wife, who used to be an employee at the renown school tells of harrowing tales of harassment,intimidation and down right slavery practised by the  wife of the owner of the school.Among the various grievences are;members of staff being denied permission to leave the school campus during the weekend as they are required to supervise pupils’ homework.Married women are denied a chance to go home during the weekends to be with their spouses and children which results in strained relationships.A lot of pressure is also exerted on the staff members for them to maintain the high educational standards in order to justify the three thousand dollars a term schools fees charged by the school institution.

The worst cases of labour malpractise was reported last year when the owner of the school decided to build a high school a short distance away from the present primary school campus,one of the builders who were responsible for the construction of the school talks about the fact that they would work in shifts ,twenty four hours a day,seven days a week .This was because the owner wanted the school to be ready for opening on the first day of the 2017 school year.Bricks were moulded on site and after being allowed a few hours to dry they were immediately moved to the building site were used for the construction.Workers went for months without being paid for their labours .One disgruntled worker ended up going to the Employment Council Of The Construction Industry ,not much came out of it however since the school was already ninety percent complete.As I write this article former employees are still being owned thousands of dollars in unpaid salaries.

Those in the know claim that the owner of the school was advanced twenty million dollars for the construction of the school by one  of the local commercial banks,the question on most peoples’ lips is where all the money went to if at this late date former employees are still wallowing in poverty after having worked for nothing.

                                                 

Water Woes Bedevil Chitungwiza

It is a fact that Water is life and its absence results in a lot of anguish and heartache especially among the women and children in our patriarchal society.

Water Woes Bedevil Chitungwiza

Our society dictates that women and girls are solely responsible for the upkeep of the family kitchens and the chores which go with the maintenance of the same.Recent events which have seen erratic and intermittent supply of the precious liquid which is responsible for the smooth running of our bodies,homes and gardens to mention just to mention a few important aspects.Nowadays, the few boreholes that were sunk by some well meaning donor organisations have become a hive of activities as most mothers and girls try to get a few buckects of the precious liquid for their families.So dire is the need that one such borehole close to my residence is always packed full of human beings; some standing others sitting on buckets ,patiently waiting for their turn at the heavy metal handle,  so that they can drew their buckets full.Gone are the days where people could sleep peacefully in their homes ,quite a few actually spend nights at the boreholes.

The act of sleeping at boreholes have in-turn spawned some unwelcome social ills such as rapes and sexual favours demanded in exchange for a chance to jump the queue and draw water.Tales are going around of gangs of young males who are terrorizing the women and girls at these boreholes as they unlawfully monopolise these for their own benefit which involve the demand for sexual favours in exchange for water. Other unscrupulous young thugs are known to propose love to innocent young girls and they indecently assault them by grabbing their breasts or butts. They are doing all this with impunity since most men are not involved in the fetching of water.

Apart from these social ills, there is also the ever present danger of water-borne diseases since some people cannot stomach the thought of spending endless hours in queues in order to get a few days worth of water supplies. A lot of shallow unprotected water bodies have been dug and a lot of people are resorting to these for their daily supplies of water. One shudders to think of the consequence of an outbreak of cholera of dysentery. Already health facilities are struggling to cope with the demand for services now, in the event of an epidemic, there could be a disaster of epic proportions.

Gratitude.

As the year draws to a close,one cannot help but reflect on the that is reaching its tail end and be thankful of the grace that the Almighty has bestowed on one,

Gratitude

There are also lots of people without whose support and goodwill the road travelled could have been impossible to navigate.Mr E.R.G,whose wisdom seems to grow in leaps and bounds.

Mr A.K. Mutambara, whose vision and drive this blog and many other ventures would have been stillborn.That chance meeting 29 years ago has blossomed into this worthwhile friendship.It is truly wonderful;l the way you selflessly give of your time and resources.

Mhofu,my sounding board.No matter how wacky my ideas maybe sometimes,you still manage to make sense of them.You are one in a million ,the younger brother I never had.Continue to make the great strides.

Mr Gumbo,entrepreneur extraordinaire,you are an inspiration and the big brother I have always looked up to.Even though you cry that the strength is gone but what you have started ;younger ,stronger bodies will take over and finish.

My two sisters,I have said it before and I will say it again ,I value your input.I appreciate all you have done .Alice and I will forever be indebted to you .Oh how wonderful and mature she has turned out to be ,thanks largely to your guidance ,generosity and perseverance.

R.K.G,you mean the world  to me.You know it,I know it.Let me not flog the proverbial dead horse.Needless to say you are one of the most important people in my life.

The crazy gang,my nephews,nieces and their sons and daughters.I love you guys to bits ,all except Ashas,you are too wicked for my liking.Tall nutty professor,I am humbled.You are making the right waves.Keep on blazing those trails.Mambo,what I have learnt from you this year is priceless.Then there is the Steelman,keep on keeping on monna.

My granddaughters,whose arrival made me realise how old I am.Hope to be around to spoil you rotten and you will give your parents a tough time.Forgive an old man some flippancy.This grandad will brock no ill mannered grandchildren!

Last but not least, my Lesotho posse; Malisebo,Retsepile,Mohai,Rosa,Mangubeni,Bandile you rogue,Mr Kasasa,Mami,Khakha and all the various people who made my stay there easy and worthwhile.My extended Gwangwara clan.I love you all.

My sister from another mother,in TZ,your support,counsel and the lengthy discussions we had,I know you are just on the other side of my mobile.

SaTupiri,you are one in a million.

To one and all A Merry Christmas and A Prosperous 2016