#BlogYourHood- Tales of the ghetto during COVID19.

 

30 days after Zimbabwe entered into a lockdown because of the Corona virus pandemic that swept (and continues to do so) the world and changed what life is to many, there has never been a in depth understanding of how this news was accepted by people living in the ghettos, the impact and problems of such a lock down.

It has been a really easy job for the many health officials in high offices, calling the shots in terms of what society should do in terms of reducing the chances of contamination and spread, the flattening the curve phenomenon.

What many leaders have failed to realise is the simple way in which the masses, the ones that live in the high-density areas live. The statement that there are indeed two different worlds between the haves and have nots has never been so true. In locking down a city or a country is only when they soon got small nuggets of information but to really understand how the ghettos work, one has to live in them to have full understanding.

I was born and bred here, there is so much that I can share with the world that they get an understanding of what life is in a high-density suburb, which I know, because I have travelled and stayed in other ghettos, are all the same.

What the ghetto thinks of corona?

We get information just as much as everybody gets it, the various media platforms. Though the internet, tv and radio and to some extent print media are widely consumed here, it is hearsay that is mostly the main way of news distribution in high density suburbs. Verification usually follows, depending on how is able to believe the news and the bearer. On each and every platform I have mentioned here, there is usually a reason as to why many will not be able to catch the news as and when it happens.

Internet – Depends on availability of data. It is largely expensive and out of reach to many. The cellphone networks here charge a premium to get information on a daily basis and leave the many choosing to be connected with family and friends through SMS, WhatsApp, Facebook and Instagram which usually come in data packages but with its only limitations as well. Information passed through these platforms is packaged bite size and usually asks you to follow a link to a website or another platform which is billed differently and out of the reach of many. This is the major hinderance and messages are circulated without in-depth understanding. The messages that do get around to people are circulated via WhatsApp and people are at the mercy of the sender who many a times has not been very trustworthy. I guess it has been the reason why big organisations such as W.H.O and U.N and their local offices have chosen to create their own WhatsApp platforms from realising that their websites and social platforms are being rendered useless because of the large number of people that cannot access them during this pandemic.

TV and Radio – These two old news carrying platforms have been relegated to last resort and because of their appeal falling away in the past decades, the rise of the internet has largely made them only loveable to the old folks who barely understand how the internet works and the youth barely have enough time to consume radio and television unless it is to share and listen to brand new music or watch movies and entertainment channels.

Print Media – This has largely fallen short of what the world craves for these days, which is the ability to bring the news as fast as the masses want it. The use of online platforms or applications and websites with breaking news has been an attempt to catch up with the rest of the world but alas, data pricing keeps them chasing those illusive numbers in subscriptions as in years gone by.

For the longest, the Corona virus has largely been considered a plague for the rich nations, rich people and famous people. When it started out in Wuhan Province, because of their weird (from an African perspective) animal markets, pangolins and it’s spread. It made many in the high densities to see themselves as far away from the pandemic because they barely mix and mingle with high flying and travelling individuals of the world. They saw themselves as immune as long as they are on their own and to some extent, there were right because of the many cases of Covid19 in the country are cases that have been brought in by travellers from infected countries, without these travellers, life in the ghetto would have been very normal.

Human interaction is all we have, we have nothing else unlike other folks

Members of a community go about their daily chores..

It is a complex group of people in the ghetto unlike our suburban counterparts. Individuals or families with WIFI, continuous running water, solar energy and almost every other gadget that is deemed for the home here are considered different. We live with them but they don’t live like us. The struggle is real and if you don’t share it with others then you are of a different type. It’s because having a full-time job and a salary slip here is considered being different. I get stick for it all the times.

The most important thing that the high-density suburbs have above all things is each other. They stick to each other more than any other group of people in the world. This interaction allows them to at times indulge themselves in the day to day life problems they are facing.

People here fetch water together, do urban farming chores together, spend most of their time sitting and waiting on the day to pass by sharing stories, drinking beers together and visiting each other when one is absent from the pack. We are the birds of the same feather that do exactly what they were designed to do, that is flock together.

Human interaction is at times all we have, nothing to take us away from the rest of the world like how the ‘haves’ would immerse themselves in a tv or computer game, stream their favorite film or order food online. What this world has is each other and herein lies their pride and joy, to give it all up has been almost impossible.

Temple run

The police and soldiers deployed to enforce the lockdown has had to occasionally come into the ghettos to send people back in the homes and keep them from gathering. The ensuing scurry of people in all directions from the appearance of a police truck and uniformed soldiers has been termed ‘temple run’ and is quite an event. Youths now have one eye on whatever they do and the other on the look-out for the enforcers. Temple run is a mixture of fun and fear but there seems to be an expectation of it rather than avoidance.

There are many issues that Covid 19 has brought upon all the people of the world but this article is largely about how we have had to endure in the ghetto to get by. No matter how much we want to stay away and abide by the set rules, it is almost impossible with the hardship faced by the people in the high-density suburbs.

Men fetch water in a nearby borehole in the ghetto

The hardest part of distancing and isolating has been the hungry mouths to feed that it produces. Many youths have never been used to staying home for long hours with very little to do or a place to go. This food consumption against provision has become a dilemma in an already perplexed setting. No one, including the government and health officials, know when the situation will change. It is a situation that no one anticipated and if the leaders of the country were caught unawares, it’s even worse for the family in the ghetto.

Blog your Hood.

By talking about our neighbourhoods and showing what life is in these, most hard to reach areas, bloggers could easily become the news reporters and great story tellers of a people enduring life in a lockdown, Think about it.

There has been that limitation of movement and there is very little understanding of how people are surviving in the most remote of areas. We can make the difference. We could bring the world to understand what it is that makes us tick and the best way we can change the world, one neighbourhood at a time.

In the High density suburbs, there is no way to stay off the streets.

 

Peter Johns Tribute: Simon Parkinson speaks.

No one will ever be able to understand the significance of the late Peter Johns’ contribution to my life through his radio show because unless you listened to him and marvelled at his delivery, its going to be hard to make you understand.

I equate that to telling our kids about Mike Tyson and how a beast he was in the ring but then unlike Iron Mike, Peter Johns is not largely recorded and most of his radio shows will not be listened to other than the few that a people will have in their own collections and probably a few more that he recorded in the later years of his radio career in the United Kingdom.

To understand how much of an impact Peter Johns is to me is to understand how I grew up.

I grew up in a middle income family and there was nothing promised to you. Father and mother worked, but still we never had much of the other good things other kids had like parties, cakes for birthdays, new clothes on the regular, we had very little to get by because dad had to fend for all his five kids and growing demands from the home. All I had to myself where the little things such as my cartoon characters on television, my dad’s vinyl collection and radio shows, which my dad basically introduced me to.

My fondest memories of when I was a kid and my dad was when we would sit together and listen to prominent radio presenters such Admire Taderera, Josh Makawa, Wellington Mbofana, Comfort Mbofana, Fungai “The Voice” Marange, Musi Khumalo, Kudzi “Mr Cool” Marudza, Witness Matema, Hosea “The Hitman” Singende, Busi Mhlanga-Chindove, etc and off course Peter Johns who when I was in my budding teens in the nineties introduced me to a world of music that I treasure up to today.

Read another tribute from Fred Zindi here.

I would imagine myself presenting on radio, talking to the listener and off course lots of give aways for them. Back then, radio was the sweetest joy for a boy stuck in the house for most of his life. Even if I wanted to leave the house, there was just so much to miss that it didn’t make real good sense going out to indulge in kids things.

I lost (in a good way) most of my childhood experiences to TV and radio and I owe much of my understanding of music and the treatment of such to radio presenters like Peter Johns. His presence on the then Radio 3 assured me that I too could eventually become like him and that the world was full of opportunities for young black kids such as myself.

 

Peter Johns

Peter Johns had the utmost respect for his art and here is why, I believe that everyone can play music, chose a couple of tracks, the ones that you love but very few can put brilliant words well crafted and out of this world imaging that many a radio presenter can only dream off, especially in Zimbabwe.

He had the gift of introducing a song that could have easily bored you to death and needing a week to acquire a taste and make it instantly appeal to you. It is one trick that has eluded me as far as I have been behind the mic and till today, many presenters can only attain below 15% of the skills that Peter Johns brought into the game with his voice, his music, the imaging, the passion and above all things the love he had for radio production.

In the many that are present today, we lack pockets of the many things that Pee Jay had because there seems to be many distractions. Instead of fighting hard to keep the love for radio in the homes of many, we are basically giving folding our arms and giving room for the many distractions such as the internet, cellphones, mobile music machines to overtake and destroy this much needed platform for the masses.

In a way, today’s radio should be embracing all these changes and advancements to remain rooted as the medium that connects and educates the masses especially in a world where there is too much fake news, deception and false information being sold to users. With radio nobody has ever been made to sign up and share information while it has been a clear platform for ‘edu-tainment’ with somebody else paying for it and never the end user who even in worst cases, even pays with their souls.

I met up with Simon Parkinson, a former Radio 3 dj who worked ten years with the late radio presenter. When Simon “Mahobho” Pakinson was doing the breakfast show, Johns was doing the mid afternoon show from 12 to three. For a brilliant decade, they worked alongside each other, sharing ideas, music and forming a somewhat formidable team that not only entertained but put their skills onto the world stage.

I interviewed Parky on my mid afternoon show at Capitalk 100.4 FM and here is what he had to say,

“He was someone who changed the face of radio, he was fresh and on top of his game and had the best music and the thing I remembered the most was that he the most wonderful imaging.. those bits in between..”

Peter Johns was a master at the craft and more often today we see a lot of egos. There is just a lot of bravado and very little work put in. Too much of politicking to get onto slots and favours while radio’s true delivery has been cast aside because of these ills. There is very little working together and much more of lone rangers hoping to amass as many listeners as they can in sometimes the bad way.  The ability to feed off each other is slowly falling away and the type of a radio jockey just like the late Peter, are slowly fading away from existence.

I finally got a shot to have a gig on radio back in ’04 at Spot FM Radio, formerly Sport FM, formerly Radio 1 where I did the odd jobs that nobody wanted. Collecting newsworthy items and packaging them on reel tapes. My programmes would be broadcasted on certain intervals and never live. Eventually I moved up the ladder and started getting education on how to do a live radio show and winged it before getting a regular slot at the station before moving on to join Power FM, formerly 3FM and originally Radio 3 where the late used to work. It was a humbling experience for me just to work in the same building as Peter Johns and at times bump into some of his old radio show recordings in the Music Library at Pockets Hill Studios.

It’s sad to note that it has all been downhill ever since these greats left.

I will always treasure his influence to my career as a radio host. He had the ability to go above and beyond the tools he was given and the understanding that radio production is beyond the fame and is a responsibility to protect and educate the citizen. Just like the police, the minister and everyone in a public office, our hearts should be the people first.

A younger Dj Peter Johns

 

 

 

 

 

Queen of Jazz Prudence K. Mbofana talks of a new album while revealing her love for teaching.

Prudence Katomeni Mbofana is a name that is synonymous to jazz and has been around for as long as I fell in love with jazz music in the bright and then “sunshine” city of Harare as I blossomed into a man.

I had never met her in person but I had always been connected with the music and having her on my show was something that I was looking forward to in the year 2020 as it started. As I searched around for her details, I took to Facebook, as I wrongly assumed every other artist in the country is busy with it, to book an interview. The response took a couple days into a week when she finally responded but with sad news that she can only be available in the beginning of the next year as she was swamped with her teaching, music and family.

I almost doubted the interview coming through until her manager called back and we began discussing on the feasibility of the interview. I had my obvious wish list of filling up the whole studio with her band and sampling on her new music which the manager, Noel, had alluded to. All went down the drain in the next few days as we spoke and exchanged her material for our digital marketing. January is always a bad month with schools opening up and all other band members not being available spoiled a what could have been a killer interview with one of the greatest female artists ever to grace the country. I was still hopeful though until the very last band member, a pianist, could not make it too but “something inside so strong” from Lira made me just expect a killer radio interview despite her coming into the studio solo.

Not a lot of women can take up these three things in whichever order but she has somewhat found a balance between the four boys, a husband, the music and her music teaching role. And on this day was no exception as she parked her car and left her three boys in the car and calmly made her way into the studio.

You could have sworn that we knew each other before the interview but no, I guess the music brought two souls together. My love for jazz was born from Jonathan Butler, Louis Mhlanga, Ernie Smith, Hugh Masekela, Philbert Marowa, and many other great artists in the country that made my early jazz days much much easier into what a lot of people term an acquired taste kind of genre.

The whole interview, was just like how I like my interviews, candid and fun and she made it easy for me. You could tell from the chat that she enjoys what she does and she is in her element when she speaks about jazz music.

It’s easy to see the difference in a master and a student or pretender and Prudence is the former. A certain level of understanding and love coupled with the humility as we had been accustomed to see in the former great artists like Oliver Mtukudzi and Chiwoniso Maraire embodies who Mrs Mbofana, wife to Comfort who runs a host of radio stations under the Zimpapers group including ours

When she previewed her new work, I could tell there is a jazz storm brewing up and I cannot be as excited. It seems after all the new year is moving along quite well and we just need to be alive to witness it all.

Listen in to the entire interview below and share your thoughts on your love for jazz music and how we can revive this struggling genre in the country.

 

I loved Robert Mugabe?

Robert Mugabe (FAIRFAX / GETTY IMAGES)

I was born two years after the country attained independence and I hardly knew about the charismatic Robert Mugabe until we were taught about him at school at around the age of four. For a greater part of my forty years of existence in an independent Zimbabwe, great words were spoken about the man who fought the iron hand of colonialism, the man who stood up and challenged the way of capitalists and oppression. The man who became the leader of a great and thriving nation, the “bread basket of Africa” we were quick to learn.

My parents adored him, especially after having grown up at two separate farms in the same area and then recipients of residential stands from a mere marriage certificate. The house that we consequently grew up in and received so much of love and wisdom. My parents spoke of him as the greatest statesman that ever was ever from Zimbabwe and mentioned how he individually instilled a love of education to many until the world realised.

While many articles and productions will be done about uncle Robert “Bob”, I will miss the similarities between his life and that of the character Robert Baratheon in the TV hit series “Game of Thrones” who took the throne through conquest in the war known as Robert’s Rebellion (similarly Chimurenga). I think there are a few other similarities but I chose to stop at that for now.

Just as GOT had a couple of seasons of it, so too did the life and presidency of Robert Mugabe have varying seasons in it. He was even unto his death and funeral, the main actor in the country’s “Game of the Throne” and a certain uncertainty always surrounded him on what really was on his mind and even up to now in death. We will never get to know if he really wanted to step down for so many years and the finer details of his government in his 37 year reign. He remains the very first person who would have told it as it is but maybe its good again that he had to die with all that information, to usher in a new country.

The nonagenarian was vilified and in the end of his reign, thousands marched to see him leave the throne. At the end of his life, thousands welcomed him back to his homeland after he passed away in Singapore at the age of 95.

Mugabe was still human after all, I am still convinced that many would have loved to spend a day in his shoes, which I feel were very very big. His failures have been recorded far and wide but it does not mean he was immortal and incapable of making mistakes and being surrounded by the wrong people who could have also contributed to his failures and the consequential removal from power.

I chose to forgive and look into the future with pride that all the mistakes labelled against him that we can start to put down in their many numbers that Robert Gabriel Mugabe committed, could have been committed by any one of us.

I have a theory though, that this could be the start of a new page in a country knee deep in problems and struggling to get out. His death could signify a big turn around in a country that is conflicted and struggling to get to grips with his absence. Maybe now as he rests, he could rest with the other problems associated with his presidency, life and legacy. It might be time after all to really see the new dispensation without the backdrop of a “supposedly angry and bitter former president”.

I loved him though, there are many traits that I would love to take up as my own.

I loved his dressing, which was always on point. His Safari suits and english suits were always the best. Whatever occasion, Bob was always looking good.

I revered the way he spoke, his English was the best I have ever had from any African leader by far so far.

I loved his courage not be belittled by Super Powers and anyone who thought less of Zimbabwe as a country.

I adored his land to the people stance, though I will hasten to say there were a few issues on the delivery. Today we see South Africa, having learnt from it, also talking and implementing a land issue policy.

I adored his love for children, seeing him around kids was always inspiring.

I loved his smile, I think it was charming.

And finally, I loved the way he would speak off the cuff on issues. He was a man who would steer any speech into what he was feeling at that moment. An occasion to hear Bob speak meant hearing exactly what was on his mind.

I chose to forgive him and thank him for the work he undertook and not to blame him for the failures, for he is human after all and prone to err.

 

Breaking the radio silence.

The silence has been too much I know.

Many of you have visited the blog to find nothing new and wondered where I could be and what’s keeping me busy. Well the answer could be simply be explained by the old writer’s block ailment that many writers face but NO, it is much more than that and an interesting season to my life that I will now share with you.

I started working for a radio station in Harare called Capitalk100.4FM as a presenter with the start of the new year. I went through more training and mentorship from various well established producers and presenter and it took most of my time as I had to be at par or be at my best. I guess I never had the time to share with the world as to why I had gone so silent.

Radio has always been my first love, it occupies a great part of my heart and I free very open and psyched up whenever I take up a radio show. The first days, like any other person, I had a few nerves to fight with as I had to prove myself worthy.

It was as if I was doing this for the very first time in my life and it all came back to me, the very same jitters I had when i first took up a show in Bulawayo at the then Spot FM Radio (now Classic 263). Like a little boy I was transformed back into that lack of confidence and fear of failing.

It took a few weeks to find my feet and in all these days the expectations became higher and higher to perform and make the morning show work much better than it was. In a nutshell i made it work and with a very understanding team, we found a way to make it work.

The problem I realised as each and every day I showed up at work and failed to make it work was my own self belief. There is so much that we fail to accomplish in our lives simply because there is a huge lack of self belief. This could be just a matter of being resilient, persevering and being harsh to an environment that could itself be harsh to you first. This has been the big lack in my life and I have sort of shrunk into an existence made up of the environment from which I am in rather than being bold and not letting the environment and the people around you define what it is that you should become.

Everyday we hear successful stories of people who have defied the odds and become great man of repute not because there were born with a silver spoon in their hand but because they realised that without putting up a fight, all that we ever dream of becoming just get washed away.

There is a whole new possibility for everyone and anybody out there and most of the times we have to fight and claw into being the people we want to be.

“Nothing is never promised tomorrow today“ as Kanye said, so we live everyday and give the best of what we have today because tomorrow is never really ours.

I wish to just state that working on radio is a great thing and it comes with its own pressures just like in any profession. The major pitfall we face is that no matter how bad you might be putting up a show, how hard your boss might be on you or whatever is bothering you at work, when you assume the role of presenting and going live, all is left outside the studio confines and put up a character of a person who is doing well and should do well for the people listening. We have learnt the art of separating our personal lives with our job, a trait that is very hard to find but we have it anyway.

I have been doing a show mid-afternoon show called the Society which comes on daily between 12 and 3pm. I have learnt to love the topics we discuss here and I was made to feel at home with the many listeners who listen in daily.

Leading the conversation at Capitalk 100.4FM

I have realised that there is much more to life that thinking you will fail and that people will not like me. Its the old adage of “shooting yourself in the foot” by just admitting that there is nothing to it and that life sucks.

Go out there and try something new, be a boss of something and own something and make it yours. There are a lot of issues in life that if you dwell on them, what you want to be never becomes.

GO GET IT!

The biggest musical loss for Africa

Ever smiling and joyful Tuku, with rising star Jah Prayzer

I will remember Oliver Mtukudzi for a career that I cannot find fault in, musically. He was to me the epitome of what African music should sound like coupled with the fact that he just didn’t write, produce and perform music because he had nothing else to do, it was what he was, a true music genius.

Before I met the man in our radio studios years back, I would have thought he was the hardest artist in the country to get near to. I was wrong. The moment he walked in, he greeted everybody with a warm smile and made you just fall in love with him from his husky voice loaded with humility and willingness to talk even on issues you would think any other artist would evade.

This was then when I was radio rookie, talking and taking selfies with arguably the biggest musician in the country and the region at large.

Credit: eNCA (Oliver Mtukudzi during the 21st Standard Bank Joy of Jazz Festival at Sandton Convention)

When I talk Oliver Mtukudzi with people, I do not compare him to the likes of Salif Keita, Yousou Ndor, Hugh Masekela, Brenda Fassie but place him in the same category as these greats. He not only defied boundaries but went through each and every wall (not the Trump Wall) with great ease with his music as the only tool he knew and had.

Samanyanga was a great crooner, I believe he spoke more in song than he ever did in a normal conversation. Evidenced by the 65 albums he produced in his entire career. The best of which, undoubtedly for me was Paivepo which he produced in the turn of the new century. Many will take me up on this confession/ opinion but with the little statistical gathering that I have done on this, it seems to be the most loved album from the late Greatest Of All Time musician ever to hail from Zimbabwe. The thick bass, hard hitting percussion and neatly arranged lead and backing vocals made it an instant hit album from the many he had produced at that time.

Mtukudzi starred and produced music for Neria in 1993

A few years back, in 1993 when the film Neria was released, my father took me to the movies for the very first time and at age 11 I marveled at these wonderful pictures from a story synonymous to our Zimbabwean setting. Without doubt, Tuku’s music as well as his appearance in the moving picture made it very enjoyable for me. It easily stirred the fire for his music and the movies but I must hasten to say, there was every bit of conviction in me that I too can be as great as Oliver Mtukudzi in anything I set my sights on.

There has got be nothing Tuku saw as impossible when it came to music. If he wasn’t trying a collaboration with a younger more distant genre like Reggae, he did so effortlessly with Joss Stone, Judith Sephuma, Louis Mhlanga, Bra Hugh Masekela or even with the classical ensemble Afro Tenors  doing a rendition of the famous Miriam Makeba hit song, Pata Pata.

To the rest of the world reading this and who might not have an idea of how big Oliver Mtukudzi was to Zimbabwe, Zimbabwean music, Africa and its diaspora. He is the equivalent of the late Bob Marley of Jamaica, Michael Jackson of America, Luciano Pavarotti of Italy and Hugh Masekela of South Africa in a subdued manner so to speak.

23 January will forever be a sad reminder of the day, a year apart, when two of the region’s most iconic musicians from neighboring countries passed on. Tuku and Bra Hugh, friends and music colleagues have saddened me greatly.

What comforts is the thousands of music tracks that Tuku and other greats have left for me that can always remind me of how absolutely brilliant they have been. And for that I can always be grateful though the question who is it that can take up the banner of such great music for our country lingers at the back of my mind…

Rest In Peace Oliver “Tuku” Mtukudzi.

koroga festival nairobi kenya – oliver mtukudzi – sidney mcgregor

 

 

 

 

 

Road trip: Joburg to Harare (Part 1)

I’ve had to sit down and think about the right kind of story to tell about my journey to Harare a few weeks back. As I seat right now, I am not sure this could be the right kind that you would love to read about. In case it is not the one you would have preferred, I will leave you to chose the next story about this journey you would love to consume next from some of the issues that I will refer to in my story.

When travelling to Zimbabwe, whether you are a local here or visiting, many people have under-estimated the importance of proper planning. Unlike other countries you can travel on a whim, Zimbabwe is not like any of those countries in so many ways (which might seem basic to many others). So proper travel planning will help you save time and a lot of money.

DONT DRIVE HERE!

Actually, it’s easier said than done. I am thinking Discovery Channel‘s Andre Younghusband needs to make an episode about the journey of the worst ever busiest stretch of road in Southern Africa. If you want a full on experience of the dangers of travelling a small strip of road for over

The journey I made was from Johannesburg to Harare. Using the popular N1 freeway that continues across the boarder as the A4 road. Save for the large number of toll gates in the South African side, the road network is pretty much a smooth sailing event. It has wide neatly tarred roads which makes for an easy and enjoyable ride all the way to the boarder post. It is at the South African side of the boarder post crossing where you say goodbye to all signs of sanity and start to experience the worst ever part of the journey that even the bravest will not attempt to make occasionally.

The Dullest and most dangerous route I have ever travelled.

You need a spare pair of feet, eyes and hands to go through the worst ever road trip in Africa’s Southern Africa Region. My advice to all first timers, rest for the night if you get to Musina in the night because navigating the treacherous and poorly maintained strip of road from BeitBridge to Harare is like attempting a high rope walk.

It is a very lonely and dull trip, nothing to catch your eyes during the night save for a few beer halls and poorly lit and constructed toll gates that you could easily crush into if you are not paying attention. This road is so bad that if you have a low riding car, you could easily hit a pot hole on the edge of the strip and veer off course heading straight for trees, bushes or people.

Caution is your most important friend and adhering to road signs (wherever there are available) is of utmost importance. Don’t stop unnecessarily, not because there is a high risk of being hijacked, but because you don’t want to be a victim of any kind from anyone who might see you as a possible victim.

Stop only at designated and well lit shops and towns as you are at most not going to find your Red Bull or a flashing toilet in most of the shops along the road. If you are used to giving strangers a lift, DONT! Just don’t!

THE BEITBRIDGE BOARDER

But I will for a moment express my disgust at the way the Beitbridge Boarder post signals in all its gory details the kind of country Zimbabwe is.

The stench of old human excrement, the dusty pavements and roads within the boarder post, the fake agents who will drain you of all your money if you have no knowledge of what you should do, the poor and confusing service in and out offices coupled by the high temperatures of the area makes for unforgettable horrible experience.

If you have no other option than to drive, then you will need a really good car, good driving skills and plenty of sunshine to help you navigate the small road that has become a sore for many drivers on this route. This is part of what they call the Pan African Highway Link route that is used by most major transporting trucks, buses and private cars, it becomes an issue of more demand for the road than that actually supplied or available. The Zimbabwean government has been legging behind in revamping this small strip of road for far too long and it is baffling that the most used road in the country is the worst kept.

You will find no road markings, plenty of potholes and unevenness, stray animals (largely donkeys and cows who seem to love the heat the road produces during the night and strangely immune to fast moving vehicles and even hooting), blinding lights from oncoming vehicles and dangerously lane encroaching truck drivers as they try to stay within the road and avoid spillage and thieves who can take advantage of the short supply of police. In short, the road possesses more dangers to driving than any other road in the whole Southern African region.

“The road carries between 1,000 and 5,000 vehicles per day, with the heavier flows in the proximity of Harare. It is therefore proper to rehabilitate this road. The Harare-Beitbridge road is part of the trunk road network of Zimbabwe, which is a part of the North-South Corridor – one of the major arterial links in the regional road network. The road is the most direct link between the capital cities of Harare and Pretoria, and provides landlocked Zambia access to the Indian Ocean ports of Durban and Richards Bay in South Africa.” Wikipedia

Beitbridge to Harare route (Pic Unknown)

I am all for road trips, open windows, drop tops and long winding adventures but this road takes the whole dream to its death. It is an understatement to say the road is bad, in actuality it is a death trap.

As I made the trip to Harare, i could not but wonder why I chose not to fly (apart from funds not permitting) and how ridiculous the cost of an hour and 45 minutes trip into Harare was so exorbitant at around US$320. I sat on this bumpy journey and envisioned how much of a killing I would have made by offering a very cheap alternative to this long and uncomfortable trip if only I had a couple of aeroplanes at my disposal.

I still can’t get my head around the unavailability of a very cheap flight that connect these two cities and ease the congestion on the boarder and the roads. I guess it might be a bit too complicated than it seems but it most certainly feels like our governments and businesses seem to enjoy see their own people suffer the most. With a large number of travellers, this route could be the most busiest and most profitable with the numbers that struggle to navigate it.

So after what seems like an eternity of near misses and a rough bumpy ride, we made it to Harare and the next couple of days proved much more interesting and almost as disappointing as the road trip with the shortage of cash, the high partying moods in the middle of the election debacle, the booming property market and an evolving social scene that resembles the many cities around the region that the locals here have brought back into the country.

A view from my bus window as I arrived in Harare early morning.

The once bread basket of Africa, now emptied by corrupt leaders and policies, is slowly but surely being filled up again by diverse cultures that locals here have picked up from their travels all around the globe. It is ever hype and remains very jerked up in terms of trends despite the economy having been run aground. It is the people that seem to find a way forward despite whatever it is that has been thrown at them. Makes for a more interesting and at times rewarding place to live than in a developed and purely capitalist state where changing the course of life is much harder and determined by those with the means to do so.

 

 

Zimbabweans uneasy as major election looms.

There have been many elections in Zimbabwe but none have ever been as important as the July 2018 elections. This will be the first time the country will vote under a new leadership other than Robert Mugabe’s and as usual they is every reason why one should have plenty of fears.

Like the majority of Zimbabweans, I too have been displaced by hardships and constant failures by the government to offer better opportunities and the obvious corrupt tendencies. Living outside the country has its own shares of pros and cons but chief among these is the uncertainty an election posses especially with a history of violence and rigging within the electoral process. I fear for self, my rural folks and my siblings in the urban jungle, for in the past we all have been affected in some way or the other and it is never the greatest of times to be part of Zimbabwe unless a great change is achieved.

BEYOND BORDERS

When you live away from your country, you constantly think of home. There is always that voice that reminds you, nomatter how successful it pans out for you, you are always thinking of when (if ever) you will settle back there again. As such when matter of elections are nearing, you stay glued to the TV and hope it all goes well and your favorite candidate gets a chance to lead the country.

It becomes the only topic there is amongst fellow ‘migrants’ as we try and analyze and understand who will win. Unable to vote and unwilling to travel back, lest we are not allowed back for many known reasons, the best we can do is talk about it and share ‘scoops’ from our so called sources within the power circles back home.

For Zimbabweans, as long as we can remember, our favorite candidates have not had a chance to lead the country into a “new dispensation” so to speak. There has always been that stumbling block (largely the ousted Mugabe and his cronies) who made sure R.G.M would rule even from his grave no matter the cost.

As such the process of elections has remained useless to many and until now, was a sure way of keeping Robert Mugabe’s ZANU PF in power.

For a brief moment, we pause, inhale and exhale, hoping to hear good news about our beloved country and that maybe, a new leader with prosperity at heart, might pave a new way and see us, in droves, return to the land of our forefathers.

The uncertainties of being away from your home makes life complicated in every single way with the hardest of all being unable to see family and friends occasionally. It seems, now more than ever, that I value these relationships more than I ever did and would give it all up just to be with family than searching for greener pastures away from them.

THE RURAL FOLKS

My parents live in the rural areas and in the past this lot has experienced the worst pre-election unrest than anyone else in the country. I say so because the majority of the people in the rural areas are the older generation who have had to put up with long distances to attend rallies (forcibly), intimidated, be constantly held at ransom and emotionally abused in the hope of living peacefully on the land they rightfully deserve.

These old folks are the same that paved the way for an independent country. Now old ad powerless, they had become the back born of ZANU and election rigging platforms.

Here, the atrocities committed are mind boggling. People have gone to lengths accusing the other of being non-partisan and supporting the West sponsored opposition just to gain power and leadership in rural governing bodies. My own father had to dodge a few situations after being selected as a Herd man, his stories of how ruthless election times can be always makes me wonder how he is doing now, just days before the country goes to vote.

Almost everyone in the rural areas has had the statement, ‘vote wisely’ which assumes no bias but is heavily loaded with vote ZANU PF warning tones.

An area that fails to ‘vote wisely’ in past elections has gone on to ultimately get less attention on many fronts such as the most important when living in the farm lands, agricultural inputs.

This is the scenario they have had to face in the past and I wonder how they have been copying, truthfully, during these trying times because every effort to really get the feel of the situation on the ground telephonically is met with very few words and a constant “all is well” even when it is not. Only after the elections, can they divulge the details of the events.

THE URBAN FAMILIES

Image: Unknown

I too have siblings, living in urban settings, such as we all have been blessed with. As much as political violence has been limited to active and easy to anger members of the political parties involved, unrest of any kind tends to have a ripple effect to the rest of the cities in which it is perpetrated.

In past elections, attending rallies, especially for the opposition could have been dangerous and political labeling could came with its form of social hatred or victimization.

Not only is Zimbabwe legging behind in many aspects but until now, people have not been allowed to express themselves without fear. Many have had political conversations clandestinely and behind closed doors which inevitably leads to poor representation and even debates on who is fit to lead a community.

Until Emerson Mnangagwa removed Robert Mugabe from power, freedom of expression had been limited only to the brave and this blog post could not have surfaced. Far too many stories have been spoken of beatings and disappearances that it reduced the majority of the country, in the urban cities and towns, to mere spectators and a passive electorate. No one dared to speak against the might of Mugabe, his wife, family and friends without the possibility of receiving a visit or two from the ‘junta’.

The election process in Zimbabwe as been a messy one and I would love to believe that as much as we still have the same political party in power, whose understanding in rigging and forcefully convincing people to vote in a certain way is a world class, they might be trying to change. It seems Emerson has a bit of leniency or it could be that he has already been exposed as ruthless such that he cannot maneuver freely to any side.

The country seems ambivalent about Mnangagwa but there sure is a difference to the political landscape prior to these elections like that we have never seen before. There has been a small significant positive change and a few issues that need to be dealt with but it certainly feels very much a different country in which even the media has been free to collect and report on anything and anyone they want.

All is left unto my people, representing the many displaced and frustrated to transform the country into a dispensation that we can all be happy in.

Until then, we wait.

Mandela’s legacy unrecognised amongst the masses whilst the ones that largely benefitted from his heroics bask in all its glory.

I am most probably going to get a heavy backlash for this but I think I am writing from a point of authority as I have witnessed the life in South Africa first hand.

Although the works of Nelson Mandela are pivotal to the current environment the country finds itself in, it is by no means a clear reflection of the current state he would have loved to see it in today. I am sure he is turning in his grave at how some of his principles have been easily eroded by cheap politicking and kleptocratic tendencies as portrayed by high officials, their families and counterparts who without notice can easily capture entire economies and run them as their own backyards.

Today I spent the day observing the birth commemorations of an icon, which are supposed to create meaningful dialogue and offer exposure to issues that barely get enough attention in a democratic South Africa such as racism, poverty and equality but are sidelined with petty cat and dog donations that can barely hold a community together.

The true essence of Madiba and what he stood for has been lost in some way or the other. The minority that seemingly benefitted from Mandela’s love and compassion celebrate the day and month clandestinely knowing how much they gained from the peace that Nelson Mandela preached.

The majority, however, of those that are eagerly waiting for a chance to own a piece of land or create employment for themselves can barely celebrate or commemorate instead choosing to strongly focus on putting food on their tables.

A few can claim to enjoy or partake in the 67 minutes as they can hardly get the same time to themselves. It is the hardships of the economy and the unsettling nature of politics and politicians that have stolen the possibility of actually praising the birth of such a wonderful man. His 67 year fight for equality and tranquil has in fact been sidelined as each day we see the widening gap between the poor and the rich.

The privileged will quickly turn their 67 minutes in helping kittens and puppies while the poor, elderly and fresh water deprived communities continue to dream of a Mandela ‘utopia’ community.

South Africa today is characterised by a large number of the “have-nots” who cannot connect to the great deeds of Nelson Mandela so as to find reason to celebrate his centenary, whilst still living in a shack, with no hot water, electricity and proper ablutions.

Try telling them to give their hour spreading the virtues of Madiba – Its a punch in your face.

To the one driving up his acre of land and lock up garage, off to sip sundowners on his balcony over looking a private golf course, Madiba month is an event to showcase his power, win elections and gain favourable friends and positions of influence.

Nelson Mandela’s great efforts are slowly becoming extinct and only be visible on the gazetted calendar, the true works of Madiba is when we start solving issues such as classicism, racism and equal opportunities such as how he reconciled when no-one expected him to and while the many didn’t want him to.

You fought your battle, it’s time we started with ours.

The inevitable writer’s block and how to cure it!

I think everyone who writes does so with feelings attached to it. No matter the reason that has led you to settle down and write, the ultimate reason as to why you succeed in doing so is because you are feeling some kind of way.

Take this post for example, I have been literally struggling to write about anything prior to this surrounding my life! I have sat down numerous times to stare at a blank page and closed it after minutes on end only to produce nothing.

It’s because the emotion or feeling that always accompanies my writing, which I have identified to be “anger” has largely been dwarfed by other feelings such as anxiety and stress. Though I have tried to channel my writing from these feelings, they have actually made it worse. I could only write (as I do now) when my anger came back to me while the other feelings took a back seat.

As funny as this sounds, there is always a major feeling that accompanies our writing and to find it is to cure writer’s block.

I am so unlucky in a way because I have to be angry or disappointed at something and might not sound objective in my writing but it is what it is. I write better when I am angry. While some write from a point of happiness or confusion, understanding the feeling that makes you write better is the key to solving writer’s block.

The greatest writers of all times have to be the ones who can write from all emotional angles, combining it all in one book or story or writing differently for different times. That I think is the pinnacle of good writing. If I can master that then I would have reached my career highlight.

So I guess you are sitting right there, reading this and wondering if my writing strength comes from being angry, then what could have made me angry so at to create this post?

The answer lies in a question I have been asking myself for the past couple of weeks and I could barely fish out an answer.

I mean, how is it that I seem to get life’s short end of the stick when it comes to jobs? For months now I have toiled night and day in an attempt to chase a dream and all I have met is inconsiderate bosses who really do not deserve my services!

In a nutshell, this has been my anger, amongst many other things ( I chuckle).

It follows then that if you also write your experiences more clearly than anything else. A war veteran will write better, the feelings of war, far much better than a fiction writer who wants to create a masterpiece from just the thoughts in his head, unless of course, they write someone else’s story.

Check out other tips of curing writer’s block here but if I where you, I would focus on the last tip, the other seven are just to fill space.

THE CURE

Tap into the emotions that make you a good writer and explore them deeply. Whatever it is, that’s your mojo, milk it!

Calvin and Hobbes