My Birth- 1982
I was born in Bulawayo 16th of February on a Tuesday eve. Mpilo was the best hospital in this second largest city in Southern Rhodesia, now Zimbabwe after the war. The Sunshine city became our coven, a hideout from the hostilities of the struggle. Fanuel had found favour of seclusion in Llewelyn Barracks from his kin seeking to end his life. Life in my young eyes and innocent years was good. Bread, milk and butter defined my little world which left little to desire in the military camp. An outside world never existed to me.
Crucifixion (1964 - 1979)
The liberation war had killed our grandma Vaida and the losses wiped all our relatives in the reserves as a result of dad joining the army. Granny was shot in cold blood extra judicial killing. It was a bleak cold day. Crows had circled the sky and the omen struck. Danger lurked at her door for letting her boy make such a decision.
Carrying the cross
Grandpa suffered crucifixion for the rest of his life for letting his son dine with the enemy. Torture was the order of the day. Red chillies was his common meal. Drinking stupor would obscure the pain for him until he was a wreck but sad memories taunted him. Since the killing of Granny never baited Fanuel to come home, grandpa was put as a live bait to trap his son. He wrote chain letters of pain and sorrow telling his boy to come home. His troubles were many. Sadly, grandpa dissipated all the love he had for his son. He sunk into oblivion and dejection. Fanuel had closed the door of help on him. His boy had changed. He forgot about him. Death hung on his head with no one on his side, all the days of his life. He died a troubled soul haunted by a dark past, since his wife was no more. The pain never ceded from the oldman’s heart. The war had destroyed all his sustenance.” One day I shall see my grandsons alive was the only ticking clock inside him despite forces of evil persuading him to self-terminate. During the war Grandpa Sixpence forfeited to the resistance all the herds of cattle we had, a gesture of allegiance to the struggle. Why would he blame his son? After all it was the only thing to do. For Fanuel It was a tough decision he made to protect his family by lifting his heel against his own people and his kin by serving in the enemy tents. For twenty-seven years he was severed from his roots and got alienated from all his people who called him a traitor and a coward.
Lynching
When defectors like him got caught the sentence was death by fire or decapitation after digging your own grave, an act which was executed by your relatives. It was a gross and dishonourable way of losing life. He knew the consequences hence there was no recourse.
Defection & Service
Forced recruitments, saw many young men joining the ranks on both sides of the war. By that time Fanuel was forced to do patrols and reconnaissance in his home area of Gota because they purported he had knowledge of the terrain which later led him to marry Dorothy my mom who was a bar maid in a lonely store of Bakasa. Only God knows why she survived rape and murder while interacting with the militants from both side asking her to be their informant called vana “Sisi” or “chimbwido’.
Dorothy
She came from southern districts of Zimbabwe when her family migrated to get greener pastures in the northern soils for farming. The war destroyed all proceeds from their farm such that she was forced to look for a job as a maid. “Rooranai vematongo” (Marry in the hood”) norm found my dad taking her hand in marriage and she left for Matabeleland hideout away from the throes of war.
Disputes
The pursuit of happiness was short-lived when the passing of granny struck Fanuel. That woman had given him all to be who he was. She had told her only son to escape the war. All her sons had suffered sudden deaths. Only two daughters got married and left the village. It was a matter of time when dad had his inside weigh hard on him such that violence against mom was the order of the day. He had lost the ones he loved and he cared no more. Brawls and fights later retired him after the war with a broken leg and no front teeth. He was tired it was time to retire back to our homelands
Back to Reserves-1989
It all began when Fanuel retired from active service in the army 1989 after serving 27 years dodging bullets and shrapnel. Life came to a sudden turn and abrupt stop when we left the camp and a new life began. We learnt to grow in the hot arid reserves somewhere in Africa. A land of sweat dust and throes of sad memories. The war had left pain and incurable pain to my people, disjointed families, a story no one could tell without shedding a tear. After serving both governments Fanuel’s age caught up with him only but to retire with little but a herd of 8 cows we had to rely on for our future education. It wasn’t enough. After scaping years of fear, sweat and blood, his wrinkles wrote fear and sorrow, a story of his past sadness he could not revisit.
My Story Begins
Hailing from a family of 8 siblings, 5 brothers and two sisters, also being the 5th born, life was not easy. ………. To be Continued.
Story By Zimleague