Poems

God’s case.No appeal

When God say No.
Nobody says Yes.
When He says Yes.
Nobody say No.
God’s judgement.No appeal.

We live once and die once on earth.
No matter how strong and brave you are,
End is there.

Even the king of the jungle has an end.
No matter how strong,intimidating you are.
God’s case.No appeal.

No lawyers.
No bail.
No ressurection.
No second chance.
In God’s court. No appeal.

Nomore turning back.
Foward is foward no reverse.
Thank you cde with the qaulity of time we spent with you.
Now you face the wrath of God.
No excuse. No appeal.

In God’s government noone is above the law.
His trial is justice.
Eye for an eye.
What you sow is what you reap.
No appeal.

Where are the lawyers to defend you?
Where are the presidential guards to guard you?
Where are the doctors to treat you?
Where is billions of dollars to buy life?
God’s case no appeal.

Maggots and termites wait for your flesh.
God’s court wait for your soul.
Now the time is ripe,
For Him,God Himself to judge the judges.
The King of Kings.
The Ruler of Rulers.
His judgement. No appeal.

Here is your deathknell mr president.
Amergedon if not paradise waiting for you.
Eternal peace if not punishment waiting for yu.
We wish you safe and blessed journey.

Rest in peace Sir.

Tinashe Chikumbo
Chief Ziki

Mugabe/s

Mugabe was different things to different people.

He was a dictator to the west
A friend to the east
A liberator to black land owners
A failure to some educated fools
An empowering leader to other educated idiots

Mugabe was not a single persona
He was a system
He was multiple personas
Some hate him
Others love him
Some see him as a looting leader
Others as a selfless leader

Looking at him a single lance you misjudge him.

©Tinashe Muchuri, 2019

Rest in peace old Sage

Flew to the ends of the world without end,
Threw thorns onto the road we all tried to tread through,
Grew to a guru-some old age, untamed by any cage,
As you slowly slew us for any sort of coo or moo.
Gruesome, without gauge,
Glue all over the little zoo,
Made sure we all die at some infant stage,
Purged us for our sanity piece by piece,
And for vanity’s sake took an endless piss,
Restlessly, and limitless as the roof above you was blue,
Like a puzzle which only you had the clue.

Now please do rest in peace old Sage,
For as we turn the page we are not in rage at all
As you never really succeeded in making yourself more
So is us no less of men after all.

Cliff Lunga

The Fallen Angel

You were an architect
Sent before us to build our own home
And whole castles you promised to erect
Out onto the once blooded little dome.

The world marvelled at your intellect
And the strength in your wonderful arm
Many believed you could even dissect
And bring anything right back to form.

But when we did finally come
Suddenly we could not make the select
Since ‘it did not take a day to build Rome’
And so our time will come too, what tact!

When we tried to make ourselves warm
Settling into self-made havens never perfect
You termed ‘illegal and dirty’ all such dorm
And set your beasts to burn and desecrate.

Then, that you cared not was new fact;
That you feared no more for our harm;
That where we would respond you would react;
And that it matters little if we cry or foam.

So soon saw once bulging tummies and hope deflate
And jumping off to other pastures tried some
The same greenhouses where our presence they deflect
Plastering us with the names of the earth’s scum.

Well, now that you have gone, like a storm
To a place whose chief is more than all elect
Maybe you too will now know how it feels to roam
For unlikely allies have now a common pact.

That as the rulers on earth failed to recognise you
Because you were never one to follow norm;
As your peers did not recognise you
Because you long changed dialect;
As your own children could not recognise you
Because to their tears you remained numb;
And as your grandchildren will not recognise you
Because their legacy you failed to protect
So will not heaven too
Just like it will not know your old chum
Who too fell because he craved his own sect

Cliff Lunga

THE DEMISE…..

I said before,
Many times over,
That with age (particularly against background of demands of an absorbing job of President,) Comrade Mugabe would lose his tenacity and clutch over Party and Government affairs!

Nothing defies age!
You could say predators in the party waited “in the shadows” for age and ill-health to emasculate their Comrade before they could pounce!

All in all:
Time took its toll;
Age took its toll ;
False security and sagging judgement took their toll;
Dissention in the Party took its toll;
An unpronounced vacuum in politics and governance took its toll!

The coup of November 17, 2017 climaxed end of an era!

The Comrade fell!

Declining health stalked him till his death!

20/09/19
hebert chiweshe
nyati (jindadzi)…

THE LORD HAS TAKEN GABRIEL…..

Light went out
Darkness settled
A son of Jesus
Gabriel, on 06/09/19,
Bade farewell to the World….

His epithet:
“I will keep my Zimbabwe”
Resonates in the ear!

Guru:
Yes, Guru in Education!
Stalwart!
His benign efforts in this phere have shaped and moulded nationals into beacons of Excellence and Execution in divergent sectors all over the World!

In his beloved country:
More schools sprang up
More colleges sprang up
More tertiary institutions sprang up
More Universities sprang up…

Adversely,
His hands,
Did they not drip of blood?
We reminisce of:
Gukurahundi
Murambatsvina
Chiadzwa Diamonds!

We reminisce of :
The Coup of November 17, 2017!
It toppled him!
Banishing his stranglehold on the Nation;
Putting aside temporarily the fear that he instilled in others!

The disastrous Economy!
A living testimony to his careless and arrogant attention to issues of governance and Survival!
Industry collapsed!
Manufacturing dwindled!
Foreign-Direct-Investment remains a pipe dream; its pronouncement has dried on proponents’ lips!
A failed economy is running unshackled in tandem with base Corruption!

Who will revive the crumpled Nation?

Robert Mugabe:
The closing of an era;
The passing of a giant;
Amid unprecedented controversy;
Amid respect;
Amid disrespect;
Amid denigration;
Amid extolment….
A legend of contrasting faces;
Contrasting traits;
Sharp, cunning, calculating brain!
Deep veneer:
Which concealed ruthlessness;
Honesty;
Well-meaning intentions!

21/09/19
Nyati (jindadzi)
hebert chiweshe…

ADIOS BOB©
Edwin Msipa aka Black Mampara/ Uncle Sipet 14/09/19

74,
84,
94 not out.
What a good innings!
Sadly we got deprived of your intelligence at 95(years of age)
Putting a lid on a fateful 2019,
A bad year for Zim,
We lost our giants;
We saw the ‘Coming of a dry season’ And whilst we were ‘Waiting for the rain’
Charles Mungoshi died,
Tuku,the Katekwe music exponent left us dumbfounded, then
Uncle Steve Chifunyise was gathered among his people.
My oh my!
Indeed, people with grey hair shall become extinct.

RIP Bob!
Loved by some,
Hated by some,
That is human nature.
None of us is perfect
We all score beatiful goals against our opponents,
Here and there, we score own goals- putting ourselves to shame.
Such is life.

You don’t deserve a private burial though,
Let your multitude of fans and the loathsome ones bear witness,
Revisit that thought Gushaz.

Your speeches will teach us,
Your ideology still lingers in our minds,
Never shall we erase you in our minds.
Go well Muzukuru waMadyirapazhe,
Chitova,
Msipa!
Go well Gushungo!

Mugabe: The PanAfricanist
Tache Elema ( From East Africa,Kenya)

Oh Mugabe, the PanAfricanist of our time.
The liberator of Africans .
Oh Mugabe, the father of the struggle for self rule.
Oh Mugabe your strong stand against imperialist will forever be remembered.
Oh Mugabe ,you returned back the African lands from the colonialist .
Oh Mugabe the fighter for the oppressed fellow Africans.
Oh Mugabe the most brilliant mind of our times ….
Oh Mugabe the man with many quotes of wisdom .

Oh Mugabe your stand for everything African That’s makes you our hero.

Oh Mugabe we shall miss you.

Oh Mugabe we shall miss your literary prowess .

Oh Mugabe who else shall address western powers with such courage and charisma .

Oh Mugabe your were our hero even in death
Oh Mugabe you got educated in western but returned to pool your people out of shackles of poverty.

Oh Mugabe ,you left your people with land at least.
Oh Mugabe may you be remembered for the ideals you so loved and cherished .

Oh Mugabe you fought for equality in real meaning of it not superficial.

Oh Mugabe your ideals shall be cherished by us ,your offsprings, we shall never fail you .

Oh Mugabe we shall remember you .

Oh Mugabe the father of Zimbabweans liberation
Oh Mugabe with your kind of thoughts and ideals world would have been a better place .

Oh Mugabe western powers demonized you and everything you for your stand against their imperialism and imperialistic ideals of neocolonism.

Oh Mugabe truely everything African is not devilish but a Jewell including the black colour of our skins.
Oh Mugabe future generations of Africans shall continue reading about you in the archives and annals of history world over .
Oh Mugabe, may your soul rest in peace
We shall miss you
Africa will miss you

Fair thee well Son of the soil

Bob & The Sterile Age

From nineteen eighty
To two thousand
There were more than enough
Of rains
But there was no land!

From two thousand
To seventeen years later
There was abundant of land
To till
But rains refused to fall

The clouds would gather;
Even angry cumulonimbus
But still there were no rains!

Plants faltered and dried
Even the certified ones
Conceived miscarriages
And abortions.

Swollen limbs
Mothers walking to give birth
Thirty kilometres to maternity

Medicine
Made sin

As they swerve with hesitation,
Tree barks would say
To the patients,
“Hey you! I’m a healer!”

The pen rolled and asked a teacher;
“How long shall I roll between your fingers?
If until you become a President, tell me!”

The diamond roof
And golden walls
Once asked, “Why all this for only one you?”
“Won’t it be noble if I become a hotel and serve nation and nations?”

The foul stench smells of sons and daughters
Hurriedly dumped in disused mines,
When the crony mafias’ sickle hewed them;
Trying to discover the connection between soul and flesh;
Until souls escaped and sought refuge outside off their bodies;
They were many. Thousands! Hundreds! Tens! Maybe even tonnes
Of them
Whom coffins did not confine!
The tonnes from broken limps, hands, heads, ears, carved flesh and intestines;
Collected as immortal trophies to crony mafia rule,
Before they were denied decent burial!

Twice the moon decayed;
And many times it would even without notice!
The stars burying in soil;
Every shining one in space was there before sterility
Or had its radiance on the throne!
Many of whom had become fluorescents and bulbs
In the makers’ hands. I do not know who this maker is, even up to today!
They were used, until they could peep no more;
Faulted, become dull and were replaced by new ones
Whose newness was the newer and new doubted!

The sun was never crescent!
The shine he would bring to the city;
All pale shadows of glory
Walked past
To filthy tales in corridors of shoe shiny deals;
Clusters of destitute;
Whom even shoddy deals would hesitate not call prostitutes.

Birds had since deserted the city;
They would come for excesses of rotten bread from bakeries;
Before it gained traction to compulsory sell even such stale
For human consumption!

A quarter of sandwich today
At half the price of a tractor tomorrow!
Hell fury with no fire!

Jayden was burnt
And is recovering in the countryside!

Take away your anger, sun!
Give energy to moon,
And lit stars over earth!
Lest you forget! Charter rains to downpour fertility

By Chenjerai Mhondera.

Go Dictator Go!

Go Dictator go
I don’t wanna see you again
National resources you used for your personal gain
You caused all this brain drain
You are a hero to those without brain
They don’t know you inflicted in us so much pain
Under your rule problems came in Chain
Corruption, Abductions, liquidation…
Go Dictator Go!
I don’t wanna see you again!

Manu Mhike © 2019

THE ONCE BIG LION

In its heyday it was a force to reckon
No one could visit the jungle without its authority
It had ferocious and gigantic teeth
Sharpened by the devil to devour any descent
Coupled to its terrific speed.
To survive one had to comply with its rules
Otherwise the journey back to the soil starts

Power corrupted its head
And it failed to recognise good ideas,
To empower the whole pack
And bring harmony.
Everything became a symbol of the power game
An other lion seen exercising power was crushed into pulp
No explanation was acceptable
It punished lions from its pack with vigour
And those from other packs with more vigour
Power could only be used with its tacit approval

As it grows the power became more palatable
It could no longer run with agility
So it recruited youthful lions to instil fear unto others
Each young lion policing the other
Any deviation from the leader’s plan brought pain
The youthful lions acted as automatons
Praising the leader was a duty
Obeyed even when they were asleep

The young lions received choice meat portions,
The more loyal once would get more pieces
More rewards were also paid nichodemusly,
Each one of them being promised the helm on its retirement,
The promises where showered in privacy
Gluing the young lions to the old one
Dreaming of the day they will be at the helm

On occasions when all where asked to show loyalty to the lion,
Very few courageous once would refuse to roar in appreciation,
These once were labelled traitors in public,
In the wee ours they were cruelly dealt with
The lucky once lost their limps
The unlucky once were feasted upon
Sending chilling pangs down the spines of many

The lion only trusted the lioness,
All else where ponies on a chessboard
Ready to be sacrificed at an whimsical chance.
The lioness became an extension of the lion
Its palates became used to choice meat
And drinking first at the well
And was given assurance by the lion for the throne
Nighttime promises rings louder than any

The lion forgot about the excruciating training it gave to the youths,
Which became a weapon when they came together
After seeing that they where cannon fodder for the lion,
No power was coming their way
They were now being trained to serve the lioness,
Protecting the lioness from the anger of the emaciated lions
Who were compelled to approve the lion through their willpower,
In a blink of an eye,
Power was gone
Not to the lion outside the pack
But to the loved and pampered youthful lions.

By tamutswa muzana kundidzora

ADIEU….
NYATI (jindadzi) 07/10/19…

In the beginning was the hero!
In the end was the villain!

A near-image
A close synonimity
Of a once formidable and unfettered dinosaur of Europe!

Molestation
Deprivation
Tore souls of the “sovereigns”!

Tears fell
Tears dried up
On bereaved faces!

The persecuted and slain;
Watch in bemused stares;
As the fallen villain approaches;
From a magnificently hewn tomb;
To join them
In their new “life”
In the Nether World….

He looks at their nameless, amorphous tombs;
His mind lingers back;
To the indelible “moment of madness!”

hebert chiweshe…

KWAMHIKE

KwaMhike kwakazvagwa mwana,
Mwana wacho vakamuti Manu,
Manu wacho akauya akapfumbata chipo,
Chipo chacho akapiwa chekunyora,
Kunyora kwake tinokudira pakutsiura,
Kuraya, kudyaringa, kunyaradza,
Kusimbisa, kufadza nekurumbidza,
Ndiyeyu Manu Isheanesu Mhike
Ngatipembererei zuva rekuzvagwa kwake!
Makorokoto Manu Mhike!
Unokudzisa zita rokwaMhike.

NaTafadzwa Moyo


HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY MUNYORI MANU……
NYATI (jindadzi) 10/08/19…

My contention has always been:
Do we not have plenty of time on hands?
And Iam always asking:
How do we use it?
Do we put it to production?
Do we give it its proper place in our lives?
Do we have control over it?
Do we have use for it?
Do we need it?
Has it shaped our lives?
Have we acknowledged and embraced it in our lives?
Do we not waste it?

Age:
It is all about time;
The ticking away ot time;
The computing of precious days into the future;
The irrevocable passing of an invaluable entity;
A phenomenon;
A God-send!

This Day
Is a day of your “re-birth”Manu!
What import do you give it?
What significance do you accord it?
What relevance do you give it?
Have you looked back into your past Life?
Have you looked into the future?

As you go forward:
Have you made a re-evaluation ot time?
Have you re-assessed the essence of time?

In my humble way;
I will say you are standing, today, on the threshold of a new beginning in Life’s expectations;
Desires;
Goals;
Ambitions;
Achievements!

You have a new Slate of the future in your hands!
Shape it!
Mould it ( like putty)!
Perfect it as your perception directs and motivates you!

Time shapes and designs itself into phases of Life!
Which phase do you find yourself in now Manu?

Phases!?
Who has influence over them?
Who has dominion over them?
Are phases man- inspired?
Do humans have a say?
Can humans manipulate them?

Is there a Power above all this?
Which will tame phase?
Which will tame time?

Stop!
Hear this:
Listen oh writer;
Enlist the help of the Almighty;
If you may;
If you can!

He will give coherence,
Endurance,
Vigour,
In your endeavours!
He will illuminate your path!
He is the architect of Time!

Happy Happy Birthday Manu…
Enjoy this Day…

Hebert chiweshe…


PRINCE OF PEACE.

What a blessed month,
When a royal baby boy was born.
The Prince of Mazvihwa
The light of Mhike family.
Named Emmanuel , Prince of Peace.
Happy birthday God with us.

Your name is glorified.
The angels of the heavens rejoice.
Ululating giving thanks to God,
Who gave his only begotten son Emmanuel.
To die for our sins.
Happy birth day to you Emmanuel.

3 decades plus 2 years not a joke.
Its a blessing from Almight.
Be a prayer warrior for more years to come.
Keep yourself closer to God.
I say happy birthday.
The day you receive your first sight,
That was the day you saw first light.
From your mother’s womb you receive a blessed kiss.
That was not your choice,
But somewhat a blessing.
Stay blessed more years i wish you.
Prince of Peace, Emmanuel.

A hero born in the month of Heroes
A celebrated script writer
A revered community lighter
Driving Arts, Cultural and development projects,
In ways that are mightier and smarter!

Royal blessings
Royal celebrations
From a Royal Writer
To a Royal Writer!

Prince of Ziki
Chikumbo Tinashe



MUSAIGWA

Chamatama
Siziba
Mayaruka
Svinurai meso
Hakuna nyongorosi inopinda mudziva pasina ivhu
Pane achikanda
Musungo wahombarume
Chenjerai masese amakandirwa
Angazipa kutapira
Asi pane anoda kukuhwapurai
Nyika inoda anovhura zheve
Achiterera mazano
Mazhinji makore anopamhidzirwa
Asi mukandinyira zvitanda muzheve
Kumeso mukaita handionioni
Inofa yakatakura
Chamatama.

Tinashe Muchuri


THE WRITER’S BIRTHDAY.

Books folded in cakeshape
Born day lyrics,
Wrapped in rhymes and metaphor
Prose and poetry dictating the pace
Every word well calculated,
To thrust the writing trust
The writer’s Royalty
Well articulated in a great sign of loyalty
Further included in a surge,
To praise and salute African heritage.
So it must be, anyday
When the Writer is Royal
And the Writers Loyal.
This holiday
His birthday
The national heroes’ day
What a coincidence!
Happy earthlight day
Emmanuel Mhike
The Prince of Mazvihwa

©August 10
Rumbidzai Mubirira


THE NEW TYPE WRITER(c)
naBlack Mampara (10.08.19)

Ta, ta, ta, ta!
Sounded the typing sound in Mama Nyengeterai’s womb.
For Nine months her womb soaked up a deluge of big and small words;
All rolled out of the foetus’ tiny ‘typewriter’.
Fabulous!
Fantastic!
Delightful!
And charming!
Ta, ta, ta, ta!
The typing sound went on.
In his mother’s womb he playfully poked the fallopian tubes.

On a boring day he would type:
Nausea!
Tiredness!
Insomnia!
Ta, ta, ta, ta!
Keheeh!
The typing sound would go.

On a lighter moment,
He would type:
Oranges please!
Anthill soil!
And Mama would go ‘Bananas!’
Ta, ta, ta, ta!
He would go.

He depressed the letters E,M,M,A,N,U E L and M, H, I,K, E
Telling her that he wanted to be named after the Jewish J.C,
Only that he would be one of the Musaigwas.

Today, Thirty-two years on,
The letters and words are put into action:
Poetry Books are being churned out,
Festivals are happening in abundance in Midlands,
Communities tapping knowledge- getting help for free, no strings attached.
Ta, ta, ta, ta!
Keheeh!
They type.
And he replies,
Ta, ta, ta, ta!
Keheeh!
Simple!

The local and foreign scribes are in search of him,
Ta, ta, ta, ta!
Keheeh!
They try to dig deeper:
Who is Emmanuel Mhike!
Why having an insatiable thirst for his local community’s development?
What makes him sharper with the pen?
They know not his typing prowess thirty two years ago.

This boy is red hot,
His ideas are hot,
You have to open his pot,
So as to read his thoughts.

Happy born day Son of the soil,
The Crown Prince of Mazvihwa,
Son of the great Chief of Mazvihwa, Musaigwa!

Makorokoto/Amhlope/Congratulations Musaigwa on your 32nd Birthday. Joyeux Anniversaire jefe/Chief!!!!

Mr Emmanuel Mhike is the Arts, Culture and Education Office at Muonde Trust in Midlands and is the Prince of sMazvihwa-Son of Chief Mazvihwa.


THANK YOU
Emmanuel Hove Mhike (10.08.2019)

Friends
Thank you for the gifts
What more can I ask for?
The feeling of being loved is awesome

Family
You stand with me always
My all weather pillars
May God guide you
Till the next birthday

WRITERS
You are amazing
The whole day your pieces trickling in
I love the wealth of your ideas
You make me keep writing more!

My parents!
You didn’t labor in vain
I will make everything beautiful like the rains
You and God gave me these brains
I will work hard thrashing and pounding the grains
You will definitely enjoy the gains!

ALMIGHTY
Thank you my Lord
Your grace is sufficient for me
I pray for more blessings
More special days, gifts and people!!!

Emmanuel Mhike

Kwakazozvarwa mwana komana

KwaMhike zuvaro kwakaitika zvibvire
Chero baba vemwana komana uyu vangovongoita mawara
Kutambira pedyo nezvinoruma zviraira nhaka
Vachivimba kuti vakangoti nyipu !mudyi wenhaka wauya
Auya- uya Manu auya-uya
Zvokwadi kwazozvarwa mwanakomana

Zvakafadza nzanga yose yokwaMhike
Kunyanya baba vomwana uyu
Vakange vave nemuono wemajezenga
Wokubatsirana kuzovaka nzanga yamatendere
Musha wavo uchitambanuka
Vachibatsirana nemwana komana wavo uyu

Pati mbwa huu huu vovimba naManu kuti achabuda wodongorera
Pati zizi hii hii vovimba naManu kuti achabuda woona kuti zvomene here harina nyanga zizi
Mombe ikati muuu muuu ndiManu anozoudza vanhu kuti ndibere wemakumbo mapfupi eshure
Gava rikati hwa hwa Manu oudza vanhu kuti igava rehungubwe here kana kuti
Zvokwadi kwakazozvarwa mwanakomana

Motika musha unevanendebvu unorema
Musatamba nemunhu anomera bvudzi kumeso
Munhu wekuti akadya mukaka unosara wakati mburetete pandebvu
Dzambofumidzwa nani?
Dzamboitwa machovhu nani?
Dzambopingudzwa nani?
Handiti naiyeyu Manu mwanakomana?
Saka kwakaitika zvibvire kwaMhike
Auya-uya Manu auya-uya

Zvotika musha wauya mwanakomana nhinga muto yaoneka
Chemberedzagumhana nemunjonjo parutivi tsve
Ako nhasi kakomana kagadzira mvudo
Hwiriti nekuwe nduretete
Ako! heko kagadzira rekeni
Pazongoza resviba rukotsi bhaa
Heko kumadhibhura shuro kwipu mudenga tumburuku
Kuzvisekete kakati ndiriko! hero gukutiva purupuru
Chubvuu! zvakandwa zvikandira zvehove
Wanike hazvibviri makwaya nimikonzvi zvirikutsvedzesana
Mukomana imi
Mukomana uyu
Auya-uya Manu auya -uya

Ko idzo hanzvadzi zvadzo
Nana vatete
Vamwe vakaroorwa
Vamwe vasina
Varume vavo
Kana vakomana vavo
Zvavo zviya zvekuti chienda kwenyu watonhora nditsvake umwe
Zvapera weduwe munobhutsurwa naManu
Manu haade vanasikana vokwake vanotambiswa
Auya-uya Manu auya-auya

Nhaka zvayo yavaMhike
Hamuoni yavawo nemuridzi
Mombe dziya dzosarira Manu
Jasi riya rava raManu
Chigaro chiya ndechake
Zigadzi rasekuru nderaManu
Ko ngoro handiti ndeya Manu?
Mubvunzo nhando uyu ngoro yagara ndeyaManu
Auya -uya Manu mudyi wezunde auya uya
Makorokoto wauya zvanakira chose

NaBatsie Farai Manguvo


*Nyuwani!!!*

Mhike ! Mhike Mhike!
Manuwero! Manuwero! Manuwero!
Hove, Musaigwa veMadziva,
Dzinde riya rekunaChifedza,
Vaparirwi nerudo rwekupa nyika,
Vhuruvhuzhu, vhavhanana,
Gwendere gwendere,
Dembe peku,
Bidiribidiri,
Shaku dumbu,
Miviri,mitatu, mipfumbamwe,
Potyo chivhindikiti,
Dambu mhururu,
Mhuru yaona zuva,
Chipo Musaigwa,
Musaigwa nyika,
Misi yako ngaisave nemhike,
Fare fare ngaive tindike,
Fundo nyika ipakurigwe,
Chivanhu nyika igumbatire,
Mangwana ngaave akapfuma,
Ave mazuva azere nekufara,
Udovaire dzamara asvika zana,
Ngaifure hove musina hangarabwe,
Gorokoto!
Makwa wa-a!
Zvaita!
Ngaive nyu dhisipensesheni Musaigwa.
Yomene ine zvinyowani.

*Chana @Kuita kwenharirire*
0775125488


Totenda amai!!!

L ivhu.
Akava makuwerere munyika yashe Mazvihwa kuguma kwanevanji! Akagona kuba hana dzevakawanda neake mabasa.
Zvaingooneka kubva chiri chikomana, njere nemano
zvaisava zvega!
Chaive chanyadenga wakapa nemufaro.
Budzi rakadzidzisa kuchenga ose.
Sevaiziva zvavo kuti ravo butiro rine chipo chichakuzva nharaunda yose.
Tendwai amai makarwadzirwa zviripo.
Hamunazve kufamba monongedzwa kuti ndezvenyu asi makati ndewenyu mushandisei semudziyo wakakodzera!!
Nyemwerero haiperi pachiso chejaya renyu mhai!!
Madunhurirwa ndipo pamusha,makamupeiko chisingatori wake mufaro,???
Nhasi wawedzerwa wazvarwa zvakare!!! Vanobvunza wazvarwepiko??? KwaMazvihwa, Mwanakomana Mhike semaiziva kuti achazove mufudzi wevanhu?
Famba chikomana ndima iyi usipo makata!!!!!
Handei tose tinopemberera kuzvarwa kwaIshe,
Kuuya kwake panyika,
Asi munyika yemweya ange arimo kare.
Tinomutenda mambo muchinda werugare.
Happy bithday Emmanuel Mhike.


MANUWERE(c)
naBlack Mampara
12/08/19

MANUWERE

Chayai mipururu vanamai woye!
Dzanai kakuruva kati togo!
Tsikai mapapiro emaOfu reya tidye kani!
Wakura Manu.

Ridzai miridzo vanaBaba,
Rovai mahon’era mbira dzichidandaurwa,
Ngoma tinoda mitumba yebembera,
Hamuone wakura Manu?

Bhurongo kwete kani!
Dai yaimubata asina kusvika apa!
Gombi nikisi!
Angarare muchinda wedu Manu,
Mangemba musamupa, haawirirane nawo mhani!
Wakura kani!

Ndiye Hove,
Mubutiro reUnhu haasvove,
Ane rudo serwamai vanodya vasingadzvove.
Ndiye Hove!

8/12/2019
18:46


Sadza raManu remakorokoto

Zvitsotso itiyi pwatsa-pwatsa
Vamwe tsimai mitanda pamafudzi
Uyu atore bheura ati bwaga-bwaga kubanzura mbandidzo
Iwe chiuya nechitanda chomusoro mutsvuku titi tuchee
Hezvi rabaka bviravira remavivi
Kuwidzai uko nekoko moto uti bviriviri-bviriviri

Huyai nemapfihwa titege
Motsiro,dhendere, wagara
Zvino shambokodzi pakati pemapfihwa tege
Kana yabva chando taurai tipambire
Tikurunge usvusvu hatidi kasadza aka kati pfuuu chikogoro
Tinoda kugadzira gwatagwata rinotyaka nemazvo

Nhai imi kani chitipai chiseme
Tizadze chinokoro ichi
Tividirire upfu
Timone chihon’a chinobata ura hwaManu
Gwakagwaka kumona ka uku
Pfiiii torishinyidza
Raibva kairi?

Chiswededzai hwedza tipakure
Mahorakora kana mashoro
Ruwomba pamusoro svatudzire
Chimuudzai achonjomarire chikafu chake
Bubububu tauchirira kudya kwaMusaigwa kwaita
Kwanhasi machena tavatambira nesadza nemukaka
Uyo wavakatanga kuyamwa kubva zuva rekutanga
Hekanhi!
Zvaonekwa Manuuu

Farai batsie manguvo


Complied by
Chikumbo Tinashe
00263771957748.

© 2018

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, or

transmitted, in any form, or by any means, without

the prior written permission of the author.

A SHORT STORY WRITTEN BY EMMANUEL HOVE MHIKE

CONTACT DETAILS: +263 775 948 581

Princeemmanuel1987@yahoo.com

I picked my cell and called “Hey Hope where are you guys? Me and Chasiya we are almost done with the first pack”.

I did not care to listen to his reply. I dropped the phone and finished off the label for the blacks. Chasiya was studying the fliers. We did them together, but he was staring at them as if it was his first time seeing them.

Like a student who is not sure about the answer but is afraid of the teacher he raised his left hand and said, “This party will free them from mental slavery, they will forever glorify these beers, braaid meat and this rugged house”.

“Maybe we should not be careless with the empty bottles and this braai stand, one day they will be displayed in a New Generation Museum(NGM), bringing thousands of forex and visitors”. I concurred to him.

“What about this house, an old round hut in the midst of Mandava location, will it, like Robert Mugabe house in Highfields become a community tourism site”?

I starred outside and saw the public toilets, those health hazards in front of the 7 Million Council bar, a murderous bar which have devoured its admirers.

“They should get rid of them, who can stand this smell in the new generation”. I said thoughtlessly.

“What are you talking about”? Chasiya inquired.

I did not care to respond, instead I opened the big black label quart and drink thirstily. Outside the two sound engineers were doing sound checking the microphones from time to time, I could hear them taking turns.

“One, two”, “One, two”, One, two tasting…”.

The system was going to keep us entertained the whole night. I thought about the guy who gave us the P.A. System. An aspiring Member of Parliament for the Zvishavane – Runde area. He thought he was “capturing” the youths with this gesture, little did he knew that, the youths were rather capturing him.

He was going to contest on the ruling party ticket. We did not like his age. We did not like his reference, repetitive reference to the liberation struggle and how us the youth do not understand and cannot stand the feeling of hearing gun-shot exchanges 100m away.

J.D would hymn a song while the Honourable speaks;

“Hondo,hondo watishayisa mufaro…wakatisunungura chirega kutisungirira…”.

He always insists we should listen to what the ruling party National Youth chair said.

We find this idea crazy, listening to a 55-year-old guy masquerading as a youth leader, and as if that is not enough joke, appear to know what really concerns every youth.

“I think we should hang the banner by the fence, lest we have some intruders here”, Chasiya said, raising himself up.

He took the banner behind the door and we were out at the gate. The artist, my old school friend, Sylvester had done a fantastic job. He was one of the greatest artists, who because of poor government and non-government strategies on identification and nurturing of creative talent, remained holed up in the rustic lands of the Mazvihwa reserve, south-east of Zvishavane. Growing up myself in the Mazvihwa area, I saw immensely talented people, those poor rural souls whose talent evaporated like morning dew in a semi-arid area.

I saw great musicians not given the stage to showcase their voice projections and instrument playing skills.

I saw massively gifted actors not given the platform to showcase their acting at a better and bigger level. I saw modest but world class sculptors, painters, all those visual artists selling their fantastic artefacts for food.

I saw my fellow insane writers, regarded insane aploctically burnt and sometimes misplace their unfinished manuscripts. No one cares to read or even encourage these ‘mad’ guys. Luck me, a lot of my really good nonsense will find way into publishing houses, blogs, journals and libraries across the world. Credit to a combination of a passionate writer in me, a namesake American based writer and a unique charitable research organisation based in Mazvihwa. These three through their collective efforts discovered me, nurtured me and linked me to a sea of applaudable opportunities. The Chisiya rural writing model workshop brought me this far.

A passing couple took a long look at the banner and Chasiya noticing that walked to the gate and said, “Are you getting it tmy friends, the Banner reads

THE NEW GENERATION PARTY, 6 pm till you drop. Invited Comrades only, Number 18, Round Huts, Mandava.

Admission: Vision,Commitment & Dedication.

Do you qualify my friends”?

The passer-bys scanned Chasiya with their eyes from the toe to head, from head to toe. The man shook his football-like head and said thoughtfully, “What’s the purpose of advertising an invited only party? I am not invited, I don’t qualify”.

Chasiya smiled and walked closer to the fence.

His voice lowered and whispered, “The party is advertised so that you people will in future remember and rally behind the party”.

PARTY!? The man shook his head and they left. Chasiya stared at them until they disappeared into the big 7 million beerhall durawall.

As Chasiya was about to leave the gate an old kombi (commuter omnibus) stepped by the gate and happy souls were dropped. Chasiya stand motionlessly watching the guys trying to arrange the large beer luggage.

The guys saw the banner but did not bother to read what was on it, “Why are you standing there Comrade, starring at your bosses come and take some beer crates”. Chasiya reluctantly walked back to them. “That’s the problem with this venue, look a small gate which even a wheel barrow pusher cannot pass through”. Hope said jokingly.

Rholex lifted his head and saw that I was not coming.

“You are frustrated by the gate? Look at the house of the host. A rural like hut, with more beer empties than empty bottles of cooking oil & juices”.

“Hey Rholex!” I shouted at him and went outside. “Hey, you cheap graduate what have you achieved with your first-class degree? I am far much better than you, at your age still staying in the single room with your parents, how do they screw each other in your presence? “Heyii”, the guys laughed as they entered the gate with their shoulders overburdened by beer crates and six packs.

The beers were spread across my very small yard and the Party started. John Dube whom we affectionately called J.D was already turning tables at the makeshift D.J desk. We started with old school, the Leonard Dembo singles collection, the very best of Khiama, Marxist brothers & Ngwenya brothers’ compilations. The three guys’ girlfriends arrived while we were now seated around my round hut enjoying meat. Hope and Rholex rose to welcome and hug their soul mates but J.D continued with business as usual. Charming & pulling songs after songs. The girls started drinking dancing and singing along.

Suddenly I realised that I was the only one sitting alone, my eyes fixed on my friends’ girls.

Hope’s girl fascinated me most. This slender got me thinking about my cousin sister who failed to finish her university education. It was so painful thinking about how a shining bright star was overshadowed and clouded by poverty and poorness. She failed to pay her second semester fees, hoping for a miracle she spent the whole semester at the school. She was banned from attending lectures and sealing her varsity fate the Deputy Registrar barred her from entering examination rooms. She had applied for the government support scheme, cadetship but like many poor and not so connected students, the scholarship never came. Back home she could not stop crying and lamenting. One day I said to her “It is so mind boggling that in contemporary Africa it is the elite and better-connected students getting government help, whatever help it might be while the poor suffers”.

Those from the rich families have become the majority in their minority while us the poor souls have become the minority in our majority”. She replied “I hope one day bro, education will be everyone’s right & government will practically carry the burden of educating its own children. I said practically because on paper and in papers we hear Ministers and even the President stating what exactly we dream of. Brother do you think these varsity administrations don’t give a damn to their authorities?” I starred at her and for the first time I saw that she was so beautiful but so stressful. I lowered my voice and said, “Sister, that’s straight forward not complicated as you think, the fish rots from its head”. Do you think it will end soon?” She inquired. I replied her carelessly “Not with this generation, maybe the New Generation”.

“Come dance with us fish”, Rholex’s girl invited me to the dancing floor. Disinterestedly I joined them. The guys were already getting drunk, their eyes turning red. I knew it was time to brace for a complicated drama as my friends would lose levers of brain to alcohol. Seeing that I had joined the dancing floor J.D. played my favourite song on repeat. This he knew would make me more active and invoke in me that spirit of discussion and planning, that was the agenda behind the Party.

We sing along the R&K African Sounds song “Pfupajena”.

Kana ndatambira chete

Kana ndatambira

Ndirikuuya kumba ndirikuuya

Ndizokuratidza shura ravandiitira

Ndizokuratidza pfupa risina kana mongo x2

…..hoo yavanotipa

Kuti titetene nevana

Haiwa vanodada

Haiwa kani vanodada

Haiwa vanovhaira.

The song continues narrating how this slave like worker asked his boss “Chikonamombe” whether he was so serious paying him peanuts.

He continues saying the salary was not enough also his family was now so big. This song represented hundreds of so called employed people I knew just because getting a job is a nightmare in the country , the “employed” will have to be contended with the near to nothing they got. Even the government had freezed the posts and its workers were the sort of a guy in the song getting peanuts. I called the guys to my little shade and kick-started the discussions “Hey guys, we have to be serous now before you all lose your minds. You have to remember why we are here. I was thinking of the civil servants whom l think the old generation have turned to Evil Servants because just like demons they work very hard and don’t get much in return”.

I check if the secretary was taking down everything, yes she was. I continued “ I have realised something, thank so much to these ‘Man of Gods’. “ I noticed that those who try or pretend to work against the demons become easily the demons themselves. The moment you start to oppose something, you have made yourself a secret admirer of what you castigated. Many “Man of Gods” bought the demons to fight good people and other weaker demons.

Rholex was the first to interrupt me “Fish do you know that you are mad, I never understand your sentiments and statements first time”.

“ I am not mad, but I think I belong to the new generation not this one. You guys you have been brain washed a lot. You are simply brainwashed idiots who have been frightened by the hornless owl”. I said this with emotions.

“I think Fish is right” Chasiya said.

“ I am getting him and the soon we get organised the better, many things, great things you see today started small funny and somewhere. We have everything in place” Chasiya said this pulling a bundle of posters & fliers. He unrolled them and gave them to Hope. Hope passed some to Rholex and J.D. I studied everyone carefully, Rholex forced a smile as he goes over the papers. J.D was humming the hondo song going through the papers and before I even turned my focus to him, Hope said triumphantly.

“This is it, we will have to distribute them when the time is ripe”,he starred at the girls the girls starred at the other boys, the boys starred at the posters and fliers.

Enthusiastically, Hope said “Guys we have entered ourselves into the history of this great country, this is the irresistible change everyone is silently crying for”.

J.D. was about to play a song when Rholex said “please my D.J. come have a glass of wine in celebration with your cabinet member.

He poured him a full glass of red wine, he poured a glass full to everyone and in a moment, it was cheers, cheers, cheers.

“Here is to us the future leaders”

Here is to this historic gathering “THE NEW GENERATION PARTY”.

The celebrations were short lived, as four young military guys entered the gate and with a single shot in air we all went deadly quite trembling with fear. “Remove your shoes and sit down” said the one who looked ruthless. We all remove shoes, and like sheep crowded ourselves heads down.

“We got a tip off that you cabals you are planning a massive anti-government protest, you are here masking your strategies & plans with a fake party” The seemingly commander roared.

I tried to be bold and pose a defence “but sir this is just a party, a New Generation Party…”. “What do you mean by New Generation Party” the blue eyed commander asked.

“A blissful party by young guys like me and you, drinking & dancing to the New Generation echoes and sounds.” Thoughtfully the younger soldier starred away and lastly as if he was talking to himself he said “I would love to join the party and so will be any of my colleagues, but I am at work, my work is follow instructions or die. I am a bitter man, instructed to thrash those brave voices that represents us the voiceless…” Suddenly tears cascaded down his cheeks, his cheeks in the Shadow of that solder helmet. Stammering he continued “But you guys should be brave, rise up and stand up for your rights. It’s better to die the death of a gunshot than to die of malaria after a mosquito bite. We are all going to die one day. It’s good to die for something. Unlike our gun wars, your wars as civilians are everyday wars, wars for equal human rights and justice”.

BY EMMANUEL HOVE MHIKE IN KENYA

Emmanuel Hove Mhike

Africans everywhere have lost confidence and pride in everything theirs because they have been uprooted. They have borrowed a culture which values money more than their Values and everything. Industries, especially extractive industries are putting more value on minerals, exhuming graves which spiritually have kept for generations African communities and nature connected, strong, united and conflict free. Bringing back African uniqueness, pride and culture is a mammoth task but it is now or never.

With modern day industrialization of food system, demonization of African cultural life and the monster Climate Change, they have never been the right time to tackle issues of development from the African perspective. Thanks so much to this Institute, The African Learning Institute (ALI) which brought us together to share and explore community resilience lessons. The ALI partners, COADY International Institute, COMPAS Africa Network and the funders, Christensen Fund have a common goal: PROMOTING AND BUILDING ON LOCAL AND INDIGENOUS KNOWLEDGE SYSTEMS FOR COMMUNITY RESILIENCE.

East Africa, Kenya in particular might be generally be viewed as Pastoralists dominated but these communities have opened my eyes to exciting common traits and strategies African communities exploit in creating and recreating platforms for Community Resilience. The understanding of Local and Indigenous is the same with the other regions of Africa. Like the indigenous farmers of Southern Africa, the fisherman of West Africa, the indigeniety of pastoralists is closely related to livelihoods. With globalisation, some local (not ancestral/blood related) people have infiltrated the indigenous communities and some are now the oldest members of the society. These locals have become so respected because of the knowledge and ideas they hold. They have in some communities established formal and non-formal institutions. However, some of the ideas have been blamed by the real ancestral and blood indigenous people as knowledge that is diluting and diverting their original customs and values.

The panel discussions showed how important is the coming together of the African people who share the same history and challenges. The sharing of experiences and knowledge by people from across Africa and beyond reveals the same missing gaps in social, political, cultural and economic engagements. People of high political standing in Kenya who were also invited, presented how governance issues have impacted negatively on the development of marginalized communities and people across Africa.

CLIMATE CHANGE. Africa, the whole of Africa present at the workshop admitted to their communities hard hit by the monster Climate change. According to a Kenyan baseline study 85% of Kenya is semi-arid and arid. Just like farming in other parts of Africa, Pastoralism has survived due to resilience. Water and pastoral scarcity is now a very common problem in Africa. The high drought induced loses of livestock across Africa calls for innovative ideas and strategies, the same way crop farming based regions are encouraged to embrace indigenous innovations. Across Africa there is need for creativeness and diversity in the various sources of livelihoods. Climate change is calling for change in the general way of life and adapt to systems of sustainable farming, resource management and environmental stewardship. Pastoralists of Kenya indicated that they are now settling down, establishing small gardens, receiving and buying crop seeds. Climate change has forced them to adopt other alternatives to their daily life. The same applies to farmers in other regions of Africa, there are shifting from Agriculture to Agri-ecology, farming in a way that respects the land, nature and the future generations. This is the way it has been in Africa before colonisation. Everything had been done in chain, the interconnectedness of the people, land and nature. Without Industrialisation and ‘Civilization ‘nothing like climate change was known to exist. African Pastoralists and farmers had the joy of living so well with a great connection between them, their spiritual life and ecology. Colonization came and cut the sacred ties of Africa.

WOMEN. African women everywhere face the same challenges, even beyond Africa, Indigenous Canadians presented their pathetic stories of women’s forced relocation, land and water resource grab, same issues with women in northern, eastern, western and southern Africa. Women of Kenya are the keepers of seeds; they distribute the seeds and seed people. Women from the surrounding communities were invited to share the seeds of various varieties of indigenous crop seeds .They have banked for many years. Sadly, women being the nurtures of the societies in Africa and beyond, their contribution rarely get noticed or rewarded. Everywhere still women don’t own land and other key properties .One of the panellist, said women in pastoralist societies don’t own cattle although they take care of them, milking and dipping. Like in Southern Africa women still not feel included in design and implementation of projects, machines and technology. Also women needs to move from small projects to big projects for example, Masaai women must move from cutting beads to tying machines. The feminist theory of Gender is the one being propagated in both Africa and Canada. African communities still don’t understand women needs and the actual essence of gender as it has remained largely Eurocentric. The concept was Introduced by European feminist who thought women are a homogeneous group, they are same everywhere. This is why all over Africa gender is still treated as anti-culture, a colonial thing and thought to have no place in community driven development. It was agreed by people from regions of Africa that if gender takes into consideration local knowledge, treated from African perspective, women will be seen as pivotal human beings in shaping community values and visions. Within this context, the African women’s tireless energy that connects and generates life will be embraced and utilized.

ENDOGENOUS DEVELOPMENT. African communities are experimenting with this new development approval in trying to introduce development totally driven from the African perspective. Africans have been brought together by the desire to develop their communities from their past, from within, from inside not outside inspired development. Before the scramble and partition of Africa, developments was merely Ancestral, it was directed by ancestral wisdom and available resources in locality. However many communities have received so much strings attached foreign support in resources and knowledge. This combined with technology have become a real threat to indigenous and local knowledge system that have sustained communities for generations, communities across Africa are encouraged by the African networks for endogenous development like compass to bring or accept knowledge that will not displace indigenous knowledge but that will interface and complement original systems. The African worldviews are same all over. Naturally, human are the stewards of everything on earth, socially the Africans for generations have cultivated the spirit of Ubuntu “I am because you are”. Spiritually, Africans never separated their day to day matters with their spirituality .Everywhere in Africa; the colonial systems have condemned and separated these inseparable pillars of African life.

The colonial governments in Africa came and introduced Eurocentric frameworks for African Research and development. The frameworks have based developments on western standards as if the world in a homogenous community. The African worldview has been overshadowed. The frameworks also have perpuated Eurocentric values discarding and demonising local and indigenous knowledge systems. A very good example was provided by Dr Sekagya of Uganda, someone who had experience both as a traditional and western medical doctor .Just because he fought for the use African herbs and relevance for spiritual visions ,He was taken to mental hospital. This shows how deeply are the colonial roots many years after so called African independence. The colonial system is still in place now being propagated by educated blacks. The Doctor was misunderstood not by the people but by the white supremacy software installed in African ‘independent’ governments. This is what is happening everywhere in Africa, the stewards of local and indigenous knowledge systems have a mammoth task of decolonizing the African minds. If African communities marginalized as they are, realize that they have to revitalize and institutionalize traditional health care systems it will be easier to locally drive and measure community well-being .For decades, Africa have been overdosed by participatory approaches to development, this have imposed externally driven agendas which take a blind eye on real African communities issues and problems. Local and indigenous people across Africa have been participating in the programme of the intervener instead of the intervener participates in the community program. Participants here in Meru, Kenya were so excited to embrace the Endogenous Development approach as it put emphasis on their communities, cultures, livelihoods, priorities, values and norms as starting points.

Similar forces undermine community driven development across Africa.Religion is one of the forces, many Africans think religion is another word for Christianity or Moslamic.The African Traditionalists are now considered witches. Indigenous institutions and resources have been demonized. Everyday Prophets and preachers castigate as evil the cultural festivals, Ancestral caves/rocks, traditional food and traditional herbs. The other negative force have been the colonial education system, copy and pasted by the African Governments. The Education system have betrayed Africans, turned them into pompous bastards that disregards everything theirs and glorified everything foreign. This miseducation has caused even the youths to look down upon local and indigenous knowledge systems, community values and customs. Development has been propagated as technological advancements, tall buildings, industrial growth, mechanization and modernized infrastructure. This direction Africa have been conned to take is totally unsustainable as this kinds of development tend to destroy their production bases. There is need for a Great Turning. Besides living in abject poverty and ever deterioting land, health and environmental systems, it is surprising that the majority of Africans are holding no actions. Only few Africans are propagating for the Great Turning through i) Holding actions, trying to stop and slow destruction ii) Creating alternatives, trying to do things differently than the popular western global cooperate model. iii) Changing consciousness, decolonizing the African minds, helping Africans to think differently bringing back the original world view. Africans have always been tied together by the Earth community system not these foreign borrowed concepts of Growth Economics.

COMMUNITY RESILIENCE. Community resilience has been defined as the ability of the community to bounce back after experiencing certain shocks/risks/disasters. Community Resilience is a process which demands a clear sense of community, understanding of risks/challenges/threats, and process of response, monitoring and evaluation of resources. In classroom and out of classroom so many community resilience cases, impact stories were shared and discussed. The cases and stories though from different communities and tribes had a lot in common to tell about community resilience. They all called for same approaches, responses and mitigation. Shared and analysed were Impactful cases and stories from pastoralists in Garba Tula, Kenya, Restoration of a forest in India, Water resource grab and the response by indigenous women in Canada, South Africa’s UBUNTU stories and many more. Common lessons learnt about Community Resilience include:

• Upholding indigenous knowledge systems and customs build community resilience and Indigenous knowledge systems stand the test of time.
• Community Resilience is cultivated by the collective unit and capabilities of a community
• Strong traditional governance systems led to strong community resilience
• Weakened and insecure land ownership/tenure also weaken community resilience as it led to poor land management systems.
• Culture can be a very positive thing in cultivating resilience
• Local and indigenous people across the world have problems with governance issues
• The colonial system of empowering councils and disempower chiefs weakens community resilience. Sadly, the system is still in place in ‘Independent Africa’.
• Community resilience reminds everyone Earth is the mother, hence everyone have a role to play
• Community resilience is made strong by involvement of women and fully utilizing their qualities and characteristics. Women in Africa and beyond don’t quit. They avails critical tools in cultivating community resilience, tools such as: Preserving, Creating, Recreating, Sharing, Extending, Loving and Nurturing.
• Appropriate external knowledge enhances community resilience

After all the phenomenal lessons, experiences and inspirations, one of the facilitators asked a simple but difficult question: ‘what is the way forward now’. Surely, with all the lessons, information sharing and understanding this was not supposed to be a difficult question but community development stewards everywhere will tell you it’s not easy to implement even great ideas in African communities. It’s not easy to share your vision. It’s not easy to mobilize people. It’s not easy to deal with local authority and challenge exploiting companies in African communities. In many cases the government become the miner or have some shares in the mine, so its difficulty to policy the police. The answer was given, the Bio-Cultural Protocols.

THE BIO-CULTURAL PROTOCOL. The Bio-Cultural Protocol was defined as a set of rules or by laws for the community by the community legally empowering the community to engage themselves as well as interested outsiders. I t states how the community’s resources and environment must be treated, protected and utilized. Cases of some communities which have successfully implemented the community protocols were presented and I was surprized to see that Chimombe, a community from my country have successfully completed its Bio-cultural protocol writing. The BCP showed me, how a united and legally enlightened community can defend its indigenous rights, resources and environment. In many cases, community people are not consulted by exploiting companies, its either community or political leadership is bribed. The Bio-cultural protocols are the essential tools in dealing with exploiting/extractive industries. Community development stewards in many parts of the continent are already doing the Bio-cultural protocol way but they simply don’t have a name to the process. Some still lacks the legal empowerment concepts, procedures and strategies. The procedures, stages and strategies differ from one community to the other. It is important that communities especially mineral rich but marginalized like our Mazvihwa, south East of Zvishavane, Zimbabwe embrace the concept and sit down to write down their own Bio-cultural Protocols.

In a nutshell, This African Learning Workshop in East Africa will historically stand tall as having seeded in the African and Canadian participants the spirit of self-pride, self-motivation for the self-actualization of individual purpose in the well-being of the community. As my friend from Tanzania, Uswege Mwakapango would always say on our short walk to the fruit market every evening “Identity crisis is what is destroying African confidence and development”. Africa and even beyond Africa, Indigenous people share sacred ties in their spiritual connection with their respective communities, land and ecology. This means African problems can only be solved by seeking and implementing African solutions.

The Prince of Mazvihwa, Emmanuel Hove Mhike is the Arts, Culture and Education Officer at Muonde Trust, Zimbabwe. He is also a Zimbabwean International published writer and a member of the Chisiya Writers’ Club. His work revolves around revitalizing cultural life, promoting artistic expression and ensuring rights, health and food security for marginalized communities and people. He can be contacted on: princeemmanuel1987@yahoo.com

• 

I am Emmanuel Hove, a Royal native of Mazvihwa Community, in Zvishavane District, Zimbabwe. My work revolves around re/creating spaces for the visibility and nurturing of marginalized indigenous communities. I strive to set myself a mission in nurturing and building the capacity of marginalized indigenous communities to retain identity, sustainable livelihoods and cultural value through Digital documentation, Creative writing, Bio-Cultural Protocol writing, Revitalizing cultural performances, Restoration of Indigenous people’s spiritual institutions, ceremonies and sacred sites. I use knowledge and experience acquired in supporting development research methodologies, documentation, validation, monitoring, evaluation and application of indigenous knowledge systems for Endogenous Development.

My creative scripts in digital documentation have gave great but unknown water harvesters in these arid areas of south-central Zimbabwe a chance to share their impactful stories of defying climate change. Creating, editing and sharing of videos of dead level contours and household rainwater harvesting ponds are encouraging a culture of resilience and unity in the establishment of water harvesting structures in and around Mazvihwa. Digital documentation of traditional Mazvihwa cultural knowledge holders and practioners is inspiring a community that supports efforts in revitalization and restoration of sacred knowledge, spaces and places. The recent on-going collective restoration process at the Mazvihwa sacred forest ‘Rambotemwa’ is one very good example. Young people of the communities have become so equipped in video graphing, documentation and editing through my creative digital documentation community classes. Some have proved so talented in script writing while others prove extraterrential talent in using the camera. Even all departments of my organisation are benefiting immensely from creative exploits in the digital documentation area. These include documentation of impactful and transformative stories on women empowerment (money saving and lending and domestic architectural innovations), Agro-ecology and conflict resolution.

My creative writing skills have helped my community appreciates writing as an equal profession young people can make a living from. The first rural writing model workshop my department launched in 2015 have seen the rise of many previously marginalized but powerful creative voices exhibited through poems, short stories, novels and public speaking. The publishing of my creative work in International journals like Sacramento Poetry now, Munyori literary journal and Tule Review 2018 edition have proved inspirational to youngsters who have become part of the upcoming native language poetry anthology, Chisiya. My creative poems have been used by my organisation, community leadership and other people to convey messages of encouraging responses to various community threats like climate change, industrialization of food systems, socio-culture decay and so on. The poems show the depth and richness of our mother tongue language, Shona. Writing down folklore stories which have been passed on orally for generations have cultivated the culture of reading and acting as stories are read every sacred Wednesday night associated with some role plays. This has returned the good old days in our communities where there is intergenerational share of knowledge and wisdom by elders and young people. With support from a local brother in America, Emmanuel Sigauke, our writers’ club is launching a printing press in 2020.

The Bio-Cultural Protocol writing is one of the key community empowering processes I learnt in East Africa, Kenya in October 2018. It is a powerful advocacy tool for grassroots empowerment of the Mazvihwa and surrounding communities. The protocol is a set of by-laws inserted by the community for the community in line with national laws clearly stating how the community want to treat their resources, land, environment, visitors and investors. Ours are the Great Dyke communities of south central Zimbabwe which are richest in terms of mineral resources but sadly the communities remained poorest and marginalized. Extractive mining companies have established looting bases in communities and in many cases bribed powerful political people. The writing of Bio-cultural protocol therefore calls for creative stewardship. I have implored creative resource and people mobilization, team building and networking skills in this process. This also has included ultimate community resource and institutions mapping and also simple digital mapping technological skills. The process has brought people together like never before. The process is bringing people close to the stewardship of their community resources. Our communities are realizing how important are the forests, mountains, rivers, streams and caves to their daily lives and future generations. Creating Ward based customary and constitutional Law learning groups is legally empowering the community people to their constitutional rights, Mines’ obligations and responsibilities like Environment Impact Assessments and Environmental management plans. Also creative digital mapping of sacred sites taught by one volunteer from America have helped a more tangible and exciting way of community essential resource and institutional mapping. Our communities can now hold government, organizations, researchers, mining companies and anyone accountable.

My creative work with traditional and cultural performance groups has revitalized important traditional songs and dances in the communities. In Muonde Trust I work with children too, that I engage through Arts and Cultural Clubs formed from early childhood nursery schools, primary and secondary schools in the region. I run the Arts and Culture clubs through community groups where knowledgeable elders interact and teach children about Culture, Cultural practices, values and indigenous knowledge systems. In recognition and support of my work chief Mazvihwa declared 21 May of every year a Mazvihwa Arts and Culture Festival (MACfest) day. The festival brings together community traditional music and dance groups and children music and dance ensembles from Mazvihwa and surrounding schools. The two traditional community dance groups have been at the forefront of all my cultural revitalization efforts. The government through the ministry of Youths, Sports, Arts and Recreation have accepted and approved my proposal for the establishment of the Mazvihwa Arts and Culture Centre. The community is collectively working together mobilizing resources for the centre and festivals. Our community have never been so united.

In the restoration of our community’s spiritual life, cultural institutions and sacred places I have creatively researched and documented our traditional spaces, places and knowledge. The big one has been the restoration of the Mazvihwa Sacred forest ‘Rambotemwa’. I creatively introduced the Sacred Places Protection Committee to safe guard and retain reverence for sacred places. I also introduced community cultural tourism where visitors to our sacred places pay something. The money is then channelled to community developmental projects as well as in sanitizing these cultural places of attractions. The community now stays with some money for emergencies or any community disaster.

In a nutshell, my creative work is giving back to the communities in many exciting ways. My creative work is ultimately building resilience in communities through re/creating movements/revolutions that calls for the revitalization and restoration of our communities’ cultural norms, values, spaces, places and knowledge.

Thanks for joining me!

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton