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A Public Notice on Her Zimbabwe Closure Issues
(N.B: This post has been looked over by my lawyers and was also sent to the main party of concern on 18 September) I did not want to bring this issue into the public domain, but now it appears that it is the only way that I may finally get some closure. As you will know from a notice posted some months ago, Her Zimbabwe … Continue reading A Public Notice on Her Zimbabwe Closure Issues
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Rest In Love, Dear Elaine Rosa Salo
A surge of heat courses through my blood as soon as I see the email with a simple but foreboding subject line. ‘Elaine’, it reads. Warily, I open it and take in its words, my body quickly collapsing into disbelieving heaves and sobs. “No, no, no.” I repeat the word as though a chorus of my protest will undo what I am reading. As though … Continue reading Rest In Love, Dear Elaine Rosa Salo
The Politics of Funding and Funders: My Personal Experience
Yesterday, I bumped into a man. Well, we didn’t really bump into each other… I was in the pharmacy looking for a quotation on a prescription. As I walked out, I heard a name – not entirely mine – but one that I had been called enough times in the past to regard as part of my identity. “Hey, Her Zimbabwe!” the man shouted out. … Continue reading The Politics of Funding and Funders: My Personal Experience
Madam Boss Didn’t Owe Any Of Us An Apology
Yesterday, news on the social media streets broke that Madam Boss (real name Tyra Chikocho) – the popular comedian who often produces viral online content – had issued a public statement to her fans apologising for wearing a sexy catsuit to the StarFM Music Awards held this past weekend. In her apology, both she and her company wrote the following; My dear Fans. Firstly I … Continue reading Madam Boss Didn’t Owe Any Of Us An Apology
What Tuku meant for a ‘musalad’ girl like me
I distinctly remember a friend visiting me one December day towards the end of 2016. I was having a particularly down morning because of a few issues that just weren’t resolving themselves as I had hoped they would. In my despair, I was blasting my Oliver Mtukudzi playlist on my laptop and cleaning every corner of the house to avert any further frustration. “Fungi!” she … Continue reading What Tuku meant for a ‘musalad’ girl like me
Lessons From My Father
The first person who ever took me for a buffet at an upmarket hotel was my dad. This was at the Meikles Hotel in Harare, still considered a fancy place by today’s standards of the city, with porters in white gloves and tail coats to welcome you to the grandeur of the place – styled around colonial nostalgia. I remember savouring everything at the serving … Continue reading Lessons From My Father
Hello Matobo Hills Lodge!
When I got to the front of the voters’ line, ready to have my details checked, the last thing I expected was for the person in charge of inspecting the voters’ roll to tell me that I was ineligible because my name appeared twice in his mammoth book of voters. Perplexed and frustrated, I was told to go and stand in another line which I … Continue reading Hello Matobo Hills Lodge!
Are safe spaces really safe?
OVER recent years, the language of creating and sustaining safe spaces has become one I hear more and more often, especially in feminist spaces. For a time, I accepted this language uncritically, neither thinking more broadly about what a safe space truly requires nor introspecting around the various problematics that such spaces often bring with them. As such, I think it’s important to reflect on … Continue reading Are safe spaces really safe?
Why I’ve Chosen Social Media Silence About Zimbabwe
We were sitting on the old cushioned chairs in the dormitory reception where the temperamental TV set mounted overhead to one corner of the room was not giving us any news about the election results. It was just before 8 pm on a Sunday night, and I had just arrived back in Bulawayo from Harare, a trip of almost 450 km and many jaunty hours … Continue reading Why I’ve Chosen Social Media Silence About Zimbabwe
Why ‘Lameck’ Struck A Chord With Me
A man in a workman’s suit stands at an open grave. A coffin has just been lowered into the freshly dug pit as family and friends eulogise the deceased; a wife, mother, grandmother, probably also an ardent member of a local church group and women’s societies and clubs in her community. In essence, family and friends are gathered to bury a woman of high repute … Continue reading Why ‘Lameck’ Struck A Chord With Me
