Rufaro and the beauty of the Eastern Highlands
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One of the wonders of the Eastern Highlands – the magnificent Mutarazi Falls is counted among the highest waterfalls in the world

Sekai Nzenza on Wednesday
Honde Valley: the beauty, generosity of our people.
Last Saturday, we arrived in Honde Valley at sunset. We were on a mission to present Rufaro, a nine-month-old girl, to our in-laws.The five-member delegation to this part of Zimbabwe’s Eastern Highlands comprised my nephew Marshal, his wife Mai Rufaro, my older sister Mai Marshal and my other cousin sister Mai Kiri.

Since we do not have a word in Shona for nephew, niece or cousin, these are my sisters, son, daughter-in-law and grandchild.

We were also vakuwasha, the in-laws and vanambuya, Rufaro’s grandmothers.

This child was the link and our connection by blood to our new relatives in the Honde Valley.

Our mission was to thank our in-laws for Mai Rufaro, for being a good daughter-in-law who had married into our family and gave us a gift of twin girls, Rufaro and Mufaro.

Sadly, Mufaro left us at only five months old. She died one night in her sleep. It was one of those tragic unexplained events where there is no answer other than to say, it is God’s will, nde- zvaMwari.

As we drove down the Honde mountains, facing the majesty and beauty of sunset, Mai Rufaro pulled Rufaro off the breast quickly and pointed to a spot in the valley.

With much excitement she said: “You see those tiny buildings far down in the valley next to an open space? That is my village and that is where we are going!” We looked but could not tell where her village was. Marshal knew the place.

He had been there before to pay the bride price a year ago. “The open space near our village used to be the soldiers’ base during the war.

Now it is a soccer ground.”

We all remembered hearing that the liberation war for Independence was terrible around here. Many people died. But, confronted with such beauty, it was hard to believe there had been so much pain and suffering here during the liberation struggle.

We stopped at a spring at the bottom of the mountains. Mai Rufaro said travellers stop here, fill their plastic bottles, quench their thirst then walk or drive on, leaving the water flowing as it has always done since our ancestors first lived here.

When you look up the mountain, you see the majestic imposing cliff tops and the escarpment. Below the cliff are thick jungles boarded by terraces of massive banana plantations and hidden villages.

When we arrived in Mai Rufaro’s village, many people were waiting for us. They embraced us and our mother-in-law, VaMbuya vedu, Mbuya Marowa, Rufaro’s other grandmother, cried with joy and then broke into song as she led us into the corrugated iron-roofed house.

We stood in the lounge and the chorus of songs began. The children sang too, standing among us. Then we sat down and someone suggested that we should all pray together.

I am not good at this loud praying. The Devil keeps on distracting me and I always end up looking at people’s lips and eyes as they speak to God.

One day I am going to be caught doing that.

The problem is that I cannot concentrate on my prayer when everyone is talking to God at the same time. Why not pray silently then sing and dance joyful songs together?

After the loud and open prayers, we all sat down and Mbuya Marowa kept wiping away tears of joy as she held Rufaro in her arms. As the baby was passed around from one person to another, Mbuya Marowa then presented us to her people saying: “These are our mothers, our son-in-law’s mother is the senior one, accompanied by her two sisters. Let us welcome Rufaro’s grandmothers.”

People clapped and there was another song. This was followed by greetings from two other sons-in-law, who are married to Mai Rufaro’s sisters. They are Marshal’s brothers in marriage.

Marshall and Mai Rufaro then presented a big box of groceries that included a harvest from the supermarket of sugar, flour, cooking oil, floor polish, washing powder, salt, powdered milk, small kapenta dried fish, Mazowe drink and other goodies.

Our mostly perishable goods from the city were received with much warmth.

Although there were only three bedrooms, and so many people from faraway villages for the baby presentation ceremony, we still found somewhere to sleep. My two sisters slept on the bed and I was uncomfortable on the floor.

But what is one night on the floor after all the years of luxury sleeping in a bed?

With my sisters on the bed and me lying on the floor, we could see the light of the full moon through the open window. We could hear the laughter of the youths outside and were reminded of old days back in our village when we were growing up.

The songs, dances, the romance, the ceremonies and the respect for visitors, even strangers we did not know.

It was a hard cement floor, but I slept till the birds started singing and my sisters woke me up, talking and laughing.

Mai Rufaro and the other daughters-in-law came to greet us kneeling down, one by one. Then they offered us three buckets of hot water and three buckets of cold water.

They led us to the open roof brick washroom.

And there we were, three mothers, washing together, sharing the same soap and same scrubbing stone.

From the washroom, we could see the mountains surrounding us. The mist was clearing and there we saw it for the first time in daylight: Mutarazi Falls.

They were reputed to be the longest waterfalls in the world. But, that was not true. They are number seven in the world and number two in Africa.

Looking at them from the washroom where we were standing, Mutarazi Falls presented a magnificent sight of two drops of the river flowing gently over the face of a massive cliff.

The water comes down the mountain and nobody can tell you where it is coming from except that it is always flowing like that.

Then we looked northwards and way beyond, we could see the Mahwe Masimike boulders. How can rocks just sprout from the ground and stand there like sky scrapers or phallic symbols?

Like everything so scenic and beautiful about Zimbabwe’s Eastern Highlands, it is God’s work. NdezvaMwari.

The mission to present our grandchild completed, Mbuya Marowa asked us all in her house again before the journey back to Harare.

There were nearly 30 of us, mostly women and a few men.

Much of the space was taken by large quantities of home-grown food. There were big sacks of maize, groundnuts, green bananas, pumpkins, cucumbers, sweet potatoes, madhumbe, magogoya, tsunga, sugar cane, yams and avocados in large quantities.

Inside a small box with holes were two live chickens. On the table was a quarter of a goat in a dish covered with cloth. We sat there in silence looking at all this produce from the fields.

Mbuya Marowa said something we could not hear to her older sister, then the sister spoke to someone and the message was passed on according to the hierarchy of age until it got the youngest brother in-law.

By the time it got to Marshal, we more or less could tell what the message was.

Then Marshal said to Mai Kiri, “Mhama, Mbuya vaRufaro says we thank you for your visit. The farm produce you see here has come from her and her neighbours. She says, please take everything with you. Takurongedzerai.”

Takurongedzerai, meaning, we have prepared this for you. Mai Kiri repeated the same words to me. I then moved to my older sister, the senior mother, and repeated the same words, ending with, “Hanzi takurongedzerai”.

She paused and there was a momentary silence. Then my sister clapped her hands and said to me: “Tell them that we are very glad to be here. We thank them for their love and generosity. We will take the gifts with us.”

I repeated this to Mai Kiri and the message went round until it got to Mbuya Marowa.

We clapped, ululated and the songs and open prayers started again. We could only carry what was possible to carry in the car. But they insisted that I do not leave the live chicken because that was the present for me, yarongedzerwa ini.

The chicken from Honde Valley arrived safely in Harare. Next week, it will travel to our village in Hwedza.

Hopefully, it will meet a rooster, lay eggs and give birth to many chickens that will remind us of the magnificent beauty of Honde Valley, Mutarazi Falls, the spring water, the Mahwe Masimike mountains and, above all, the respectful generosity that still remains in our people.

Dr Sekai Nzenza is CEO of Rio Zim Foundation. She writes in her personal capacity.

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