A horse called simba
A fews years ago, not so long we heard about a horse called simba and this horse belonged to other people. This progressive group of people called themselves the new dawn. Lately there has been talk of about another horse called simba but it is clothed in a different outfit. The question that begs answers is, whose horse is it anyway. If anyone knows the answer to this very petinent question please stand up.
Loving who i am
Dear Diary,
I am begining to see the benefits of being comfortable in my own skin. Its been a long time coming but i’ve realsied that for so long i’ve lived my life for other people.
First it was for my parents, then my husband, then i lived for my job and conformed to all of these things and it has made some of these people happy but it certainly hasnt made me happy.
I have tried to conform to what is socially acceptable and it has worked but it has done nothing for me as a person. I’ve been told that there is a certain way that a woman my age should act and some of it is just not me.
Some sections of society even expect it of me not to date a man who has no child because i happen to have a 14 year old son. As for dating a younger man, heaven forbid. This is the biggest crime a woman in my circumstances can do.
If i were to start dating a younger man, people would think that he is in it for the material comforts that i can provide. But then what happens if i genuinely find myself in love with a younger man?
used and abused then discarded
Funny how journalists seem to have the world in the palm of their hands. Speaking out bodly about the abuse of others, being human rights defenders and sometimes suffering the consequences of their beliefs.
In Zimbabwe journalism is one of the most dangerous careers one can opt for but what continues to drive me, only God knows.
Journalism is not only dangerous to one’s physical body but aklso to ones emotional well being. I have been battered and bashed left right and center.
I have taken a physical beating on my body at work and i have also taken emotional abuse but i still stay. What is this force that is so powerful that i can’t let go of it. Why can’t i just settle for a nice quiet calm office job answering the phones or something.
Why should i continue to give of myself and get nothing but physical and emotional abuse. A couple of years ago i used to think that female journalists where just giving into the pressure and where not being tough enough. But now i feel what they felt. I am definately throwing in the towel.
Drug Trafficking Rife in Zimbabwe
A smartly dressed confident young woman walks through the customs search at the airport leaving a trail of admires behind her. She makes it past and proceeds to the waiting plane.
She makes her way to her seat and settles in for the 18 hour plane ride to China. The woman is very excited as this is her first time to travel by air and she can hardly wait to hit the shopping malls in China.
Soon enough the plane is airborne and the friendly air hostess starts taking orders for drinks everyone seems to be getting one. Finally the air hostess asks her what she’d like to drink and she shakes her head in a gesture to say no.
The air hostess moves on to the next seats and the young lady does her best to mind her own business. Soon after the drinks, the food starts arriving and it sure smells good.
“Should I or shouldn’t i partake of this food, the young lady muses”? She had been told not to eat anything until they got to China and the goods had been delivered.
“Maybe if i take a little light food, I’ll be okay and nothing will happen after all, who is going to know what i have done,” she thinks to her self. The air hostess finally arrives and she gets her share of the food and eats.
Some time later passengers notice the lady is very uncomfortable and is becoming ill. Doctors come to her aid and discover that she is carrying illegal drugs in her belly.
This is what drug trafficking in Africa has come to. The trend has been there for decades now but never before have people risked their lives like they are doing these days to make money.
I know that most people have only ever experienced such incidents on television and in the American movies but for me the issue has come a little too close to home.
Yesterday i walked into the saloon to get my hair done and as is the case with these places, we began to talk about money. Money is a very topical issue in Zimbabwe because it practically makes the world go round where i come from.
With money one can get to at least get some of the basic necessities like water. Zim’s water crisis is so bad that people go fro up to 3 weeks at a time without running water. However if you have money you can buy your water.
It is during this saloon visit that i got to know that one young lady whom i admired so much had been caught up in a drug fiasco in China. This young lady was in Zimbabwean terms managing very well”zvinhu zvake zvanga zvakabatana”, is what people would say about her.
This is because Thea(not real name) is a hairdresser of repute who on a bad day would make at least USD100. Now that is not bad by any standards. Why she had to go that far to get money still remains a mystery.
I listened as people passed on their judgments about how greedy she was, how ungrateful she was, how she did not count her blessings and nodded my head in agreement.
However today, i am not as emotional as i was yesterday and its all making sense now. Thea, like all decent young ladies wants the best out of life. She wants her own home, car and a good education for her two children.
Thea wants to live in a Zimbabwe where she does not pay USD 500 for a 2 bed roomed flat. She wants to see her 11 year old who hasn’t been to school since the third term started in school. The mother probably wants to have a more balanced diet not the sadza and kapenta one that has become so permanent in her kitchen.
I personally don’t blame her for what she did, any mother would have done the same and i must say that even though i don’t condone drug trafficking, she must be saluted for her effects.
It really takes an act of God to survive in Zimbabwe and lead a straight forward life. The majority of Zimbabwean have been turned into crooks overnight and the situation is really saddening.
The powers that be seen to turn a deaf ear and a blind eye as these issues unfold. Instead you hear stories of hold some politicians from on great revolutionary party forging and falsifying the GNU agreement of 15 September.
You hear stories of dozens of women being beaten up and thrown in jail for trying to be have their concerns heard. You hear of the Governor releasing the 24th new note in 2008 alone and still, our politicians don not heed the cry of a mother.
How many of our sons daughters and mothers should perish before action is taken. How many dead bodies do our politicians want to see before they intervene and resolve their problems?
Maybe Zimbabwean women should be given the reigns if only for a while to sort out this mess in our country or we will have a generation of uneducated fraudsters and gangsters pretty soon.
My heart bleeds for my country, My heart bleeds for my 11 year old son who hasn’t been going to school since the third term began. My heart bleeds for the family i saw yesterday on the street as they were getting prepared to retire for the night. My heart bleeds for all the young women living on the streets of Zimbabwe because their situation is by far worse off than some of us who have a roof over our heads.
My heart also bleeds for the women in Zimbabwe who have the burden of caring for the sick who nowadays cannot even access treatment because the banks will not release their money so they can buy medicine.
My heart bleeds when compare all this with the images of politicians who have protruding pot bellies and double chins.
The cost of being sick in Zimbabwe
I am not one to complain and judging by the fact that i’m one of the people who decided to stay here in Zimbabwe when everyone else was leaving really says something about my character.
I have never questioned my decision to stay in this beloved country because i’ve come to the realisation that people like me will make it wherever they are because the thing that drives us is found everywhere.
Today however i find myself questioning my decision to stay in this country were even the most basic of essential services like clean water, food and access to health care are scarce. Inflation in Zimbabwe is skyrocketing yes but i think we are making the situation worse ourselves.
Some Zimbabweans have really made it their business to make life difficult for other Zimbabweans. I have heard so many complaints about how some sections of the business community are aiding economic decline. Up till this morning, i dismissed such claims as mere propaganda but today i came face to face with the ugly reality.
I walked into a pharmacy at Karigamombe to look for a fast relief for this really bad flu i have. I wanted to get a sachet of med lemon and got the shock of my life when the pharmacist told me that it would cost me 150 000 dollars which is about USD 50.
Now where in the world will you find such ridiculous prizes. i’m livid, these guys need a reality check and soon or they’ll just run out of business
