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
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!
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
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
Last month, I bumped into an old acquaintance whom I’ll call Timothy (not his real name) for the purposes of this article. Timothy is in his late 20s or early 30s, and it had been over five years since we’d last met or spoken. So a natural curiosity came over both of us to know what the other had been up to during this long … Continue reading What Young Zimbabweans Have Lost, And Continue To Lose
A couple of years ago, I wrote a blog post I titled, ‘Silence Does Not Suit Me’, an exuberantly defiant ode to my right to freely express myself as I chose. In it, I observed of the the self-doubt that often accompanies speaking up about things that are deemed unpopular or supposedly best left unchallenged, “You start to think that maybe they [the silent people … Continue reading This Silence Cannot Be All There Is
What do they really mean when they call you a ‘radical’? Before I go any further, I am going to quickly disclaim that these musings are, in no way, academic or scientific. A question simply came into my mind Sunday evening as I planned for the week ahead and I decided to expand on it by writing about it. There is humour in this piece, … Continue reading So what do they really mean when they label you a ‘radical’?
The main traffic light that filters vehicles turning right from Harare’s Avondale Shopping Centre always seems to take an inordinate amount of time to change from red to green. And like many things requiring patience, this is a strange and testing phenomenon for motorists in a city whose worn and constricted roads are primed for daily aggressive driving and manoeuvring. For what feels like minutes, … Continue reading What Remains For Zimbabwe After Empathy?
Last night I gave myself a phone call I wanted to purge myself Hear my own voice lulling me to sleep Telling me to keep faith and hang my tears to dry ‘’They called me a fag again today’’ I heard myself say My voice hoarse, packed with weariness ‘’They said I’m an idiot for always being on my own’’, My voice breaking now, giving … Continue reading Last Night I Gave Myself A Phone Call by Zibusiso Mpofu