Dancing to free the soul

Sekai Nzenza

“Sis, do not invite me again to a party where the majority of people are married couples, educated people, regular church goers or rich people,” said Piri as ...

The Buffalo departed

Sekai Nzenza

Back in the village, they called my mother by her totem, Nyati the Buffalo. When she came to Harare due to ailments of old age, there was nothing for her to d...

The silence of our mothers

Sekai Nzenza

Opposite the noisy night club near where they roast meat at Mereki’s in Warren Park, there is a row of houses. By now, residents in these houses are probably ...

Lessons from the year 2012

Sekai Nzenza

If it was possible for the year 2012 to return, I would say, please, I beg you, ndapota zvangu, keep the painful bad incidents of that year with you. Keep fraud, corruption an...

Memories of a village crime

Dr Sekai Nzenza

Two days after his death, Musekiwa Chitehwe paid for the crime he committed 45 years ago against Tenzeni, his father’s second wife. Most of us did not kn...

The search for a good man

Sekai Nzenza

Just before we crossed the Save River on our way to Harare from the village last week, my cousin Piri and I had a tyre puncture. The spare tyre was under th...

When fat was beautiful

Sekai Nzenza
Ever since my cousin Pirisira left the village and came back to Harare to start her own tuckshop in Mbare, she is getting fat. Really fat! And she is so proud ...

Anthill in our village fireplace

Sekai Nzenza
When Tete Verina, my father’s youngest sister, toured the whole village homesteads before the ceremony to unveil Reuben’s father’s grave, she kept on shaking h...

The migrant to Malawi

Many years ago, when Harare was still called Salisbury my grandmother, Mbuya VaMandirowesa, used to say we should not go there. She said Salisbury was a jungle, musango, where you could be eaten...

Memories of lost love letters

Sekai Nzenza
By the time we reached Grade Five at St Columbus village school, most of us could read Shona and English very well. This was a credit to Miss Rwodzi, our teacher...