It was a live Facebook video that sparked a frenzy of tweets, speculation and subsequently, a live interview between Ruvheneko Parirenyatwa and musician Stunner. The issue in question was certainly not something new to society: infidelity is a problem as old as time itself. What made it different this time was a combination of accessibility to social media and a heightened interest in the private lives of celebrities and public figures.
In a few short hours, bond notes are going to be on the streets. After months of citizens campaigning against their introduction. After pleas for the Reserve Bank and the government to try anything, ANYTHING, other than both notes. After the people of Zimbabwe have gone blue in the face saying that under no circumstances do we want bond notes. Yes, despite all this, our calls went unheeded. Bond notes shall reign supreme at our expense.
Student activism in Zimbabwe is not a new phenomenon. Starting during the Second Chimurenga, student activism continued after the Independence, with student protests of note in the 1990s and early 2000s.
By nature, universities encourage young bright minds to see the realities of their society. As a student, you are being prepared to enter the wide world, and you’re told to go out there and make a change, to serve the greater good, to be the difference. That impetus to make your mark, coupled with the tenacity of youth, means that students have created their own form of activism, a mix of protest action and intellectual debate, which pushes for immediate change while laying foundation for long-lasting reform.
Heroes Day is upon us once again. A day meant to honour the men and women who died fighting for an independent Zimbabwe, it serves as one of the reminders of a long and painful liberation struggle.
I hear stories of young men and women, still in school uniforms, leaving their institutions of learning to run into the bushes and pick up arms. Of ordinary citizens, teachers and nurses and farmers, who sheltered guerrilla fighters on the run from Rhodesian forces. Of those who crossed the border into foreign countries to train and learn. The image of Heroes Acre comes to mind, the statue of three soldiers standing in proud defiance, weapons and flag in hand, ready to give it all to free their people.
Dear Mr. Lumumba,
I debated on whether or not to write this letter. Most people have written you off as a non-entity, and in fact your celebrity has diminished over the past few weeks. Still, I think it’s important to let you know how I feel. As someone claiming to stand for and represent young Zimbabweans, it’s only fair that I, as a young Zimbabwean, give my opinion.
Unlike many, many, many people, I think you have potential. In a political sphere dominated by people aged 50 and over, it’s refreshing to have someone closer to my age and experiences. However, I understand why you rub people the wrong way. You’ve rubbed me the wrong way. You proclaim yourself as the “political maverick of this generation” – a bold statement that makes you come across as vain. You’re pompous. You’re condescending. You’re arrogant. Cockiness and confidence in politics is not a bad thing, but the truth is that you haven’t done anything to back up your claims. Learn to humble yourself. The title ‘political maverick’ is not given or taken, it is earned.
Talk less, listen more. I was one of many people that tuned into that disaster of an interview with Ruvheneko on ZiFM. You were unwilling to engage on even the smallest things – I remember Ruvheneko asking you a series of true/false questions, with you insisting on replying yes or no. It seems small and inconsequential, but how can you even begin to start talking about the big things when you can’t even engage with other people on the little things? How do you expect to win us over when you talk down to people, instead of conversing with them?
It’s understandable to have such a reaction when you feel as if you’re being attacked – I too respond defensively when asked personal questions. However, I’m not the politician here, you are. You can’t keep losing your cool when someone asks you pointed questions. Bear in mind, these are the questions we’ve also asked ourselves about you and your intentions. Don’t be afraid to answer tough questions, and learn to maintain your professionalism when answering.
You started a political party, even though you previously insisted that you wouldn’t. Good for you. I don’t know anything about this new party, and to be honest I don’t really care that much. Living in Zimbabwe has taught me not to raise my hopes too high, to resign myself to a cycle of dashed dreams and despondency. However, I will congratulate you for what you’re trying to do. Just do it right.
Zimbabwean youth are some of the most disadvantaged people in our country. We make up over a third of the population, yet we have nothing to aspire to. No jobs. No future, at least not in Zimbabwe. A life of hollow promises and frustration, watching the best days of our lives wasting away because of a system that’s failing us. If you’re that concerned about us and our future, then put aside your ego and focus on the people you claim to fight for. So stop talking. Start doing. I’m one of the few people that actually believes that you could make a change, but you will not achieve anything if you don’t change yourself.
I don’t expect a response to this letter. I don’t want one. I wanted to tell you how I feel, and that’s what I’ve done. I’ll leave you with this: do better Mr. Lumumba. Be better.
A tired, frustrated, Zimbabwean youth.
To say you and I have a complicated relationship is an understatement. I’ve known you all my life: from my first day of formal education we were already well acquainted. And I fell in love with you. Continue reading →
36 years ago, Southern Rhodesia was wiped from existence and Zimbabwe was born. Great pomp and ceremony ensued as the populace celebrated the end of a long guerrilla and the establishment of majority rule. Bob Marley even wrote a song for us, and he came down and performed, free of charge, at the official Independence Day celebrations:
In 2016, things are different. Zimbabweans are scattered across the globe. Many people have left for their studies or employment. There is a generation of people with Zimbabwean heritage who have not set foot in the country. And for a born-free generation, navigating their Zimbabwean identity is a chore in itself. Four such Zimbabweans, all studying at Rhodes University in South Africa, speak of what it means to be Zimbabwean, 36 years after Independence.
“Being Zimbabwean in 2016 comes with many arduous challenges and a lot of hard work in the quest to get opportunity and recognition necessary for the meaningful success in the global village we live in today.
As a young Zimbabwean, I find it hard to break barriers no matter how good I am – barriers that, if broken, will propel my career to dizzy heights. This is largely due to negative political connotations that come with being from Zimbabwe.”
“Being a Zimbabwean youth is tough. Particularly a patriotic youth. You yourself fail to explain where you draw your strong allegiance to the country from.
It’s quite an amazing phenomenon really. I can rave and curse about the situation in Zimbabwe but dare someone else do it. So what does it mean to be a Zimbabwean in 2016, 36 years after independence? It’s a myriad of emotions. Love. Hate. Love. Hate even more.”
“My Zimbabwean identity means being resilient in the face of all adversities and having faith and hope as strong a mustard seed.”
“I like that Zimbabweans, we’re peaceful people. Yeah our country’s messed up, but we’re survivors. It hasn’t broken us. If you’re outside of the country, you know you’re not alone. You’ve got a community of Zimbabweans there with you.”
Zimbabwean Identity, 36 years on
So what does it mean to be a young Zimbabwean in 2016? There isn’t a straightforward answer to that. There’s a constant tug of war in establishing your identity. Inheriting the past, surviving the present, building for the future – often times, it can be suffocating to live such an existence. Nevertheless, for many of the young Zimbabweans out there, their national heritage and identity is a badge they wear with pride.
Simudzai mureza wedu weZimbabwe
Yakazvarwa nomoto wechimurenga;
Neropa zhinji ramagamba
Tiidzivirire kumhandu dzose;
Ngaikomborerwe nyika yeZimbabwe.
Phakamisan iflegi yethu yeZimbabwe
Eyazalwa yimpi yenkululeko;
Legaz’ elinengi lamaqhawe ethu
Silivikele ezithan izonke;
Kalibusisiwe ilizwe leZimbabwe.