I remember Zimbabwe when I was young, beautiful, spotlessly clean, and on time. We had state buses than ran every route on the hour, every hour, all the time. We had clean public toilets. The street lights all worked. There was no water or power cuts. Our currency was at par with the Pound Sterling, Not the dollar. You would have to give me 2 US Dollars for my single ZimDollar. We named our land Africas Paradise. We also named it the land of milk and honey. We called our Capital City, Sunshine City.
There was fighting and poverty all around us. South Africa was not independent and we housed them. We supported them fight arpatheid. We sang revolutionary songs at Primary School denouncing the boers. We sent troops to Mozambique to fight the RENAMO bandits. The war raged on for about 15 years. Mozambique was a war ravaged country. We took thousands of Mozambican refugees and housed them. We had an interest in Mozambique. Our oil supply pipeline from Beira runs through Mzambique, but I believe when we sent troops we were genuinly supporting our brothers.
Zambia had practically collapsed under Keneth Kaunda. The Zambian Kwacha was worth less than toilet paper. We laughed every night and wondered how on earth a country could decay to such an extent. We had no intention whatsoever of going to Zambia for any reason, howsoever. Malawi had always been colonised for us by the white man. Zimbabwe had always taken cheap labour from Malawi. So Malawians, whilst not outrightly ill treated in Zimbabwe, it was always mutually agreed that they were lesser important than us. They cooked for us, bathed our children, tendered our green gardens, took out the rubbish bins. We were kings.
We also heard stories about Mogadishu, Djibouti etc. We even sent troops to both, to restore peace and stability.
Oh how the mighty have fallen. We now beg for jobs in Mozambique. The South Africans are burning our too many brothers and sisters. Zambia is practically fed up with us. Malawi is laughing. Oh, how the might have fallen.
Cry my beloved Zimbabwe, cry!
Doing 'La-pour' in the City of Accra
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When I was a curious, capering child street-sauntering at Achimota School,
there was an obliging, octogenarian gardener with no known name. People
called h...
8 years ago
touching, yet i would tell you that man has to go through trials for him to appreciate where he has come from. if you write no exams you wouldn't be promoted. when everything is restored you would appreciate why you must uphold and defend what you have. and i hope you have the belief that things would work. america as we all know it went through hard times and are still. there are about 50 million of them without healthcare, you see. no where cool, as we would say in the ghanaian parlance. but things would work out. have hope.
ReplyDeleteFeel you, Pen Pewder!
ReplyDeleteAlthough a Ghanaian, I have a hearted-centred connection with Zimbabwe through marriage.My wife is from Chinhoyi.
I have lived in Zimbabwe before and I feel deeply the spirit of your voice.Check my very first post @ http://posekyere.blogspot.com/2008/08/portrait-of-disappointment.html.
My heart aches for my in-laws, for the beautiful land, for Zimbabwe.
Let me tell you one thing though, it shall be well with Zimbabwe after 'Sabhuku Handiyandi' has gone.
@Nana Fredua. Dear colleague and brother, in all the trials and tribulations, I have never lost hope. It is hope that keeps me alive and sees me through to the next day. Thanks bro.
ReplyDelete@Posekyere..."Mukwasha" clap your hands to me! Im glad you have the kind of bond you have with Zimbabwe. Of course Sabhuku will go, and we shall all be happy once again.
ReplyDelete